Play@YSDC

VictoriaSilverwolf wrote:

Spoiler:

Know 1/2 = 47%[dice]197901:0[/dice]

"I can't help but think that the police have overlooked something, Professor," he remarks. "I, for one, would like to take a look at the butler's room."

"My thoughts exactly! I do suggest we go over that place again with a fine comb!

Scrutinizing the Inspector's manner, Miss Poole perceives no intent to deceive; beneath his gruff exterior Cleveland seems genuinely shaken by Constable Baker's death and bewildered by recent events. At Miss Siddons' declaration his eyes widen in astonishment. "Mr. Bidwell massacred aboriginals? What nonsense is this?"

James Powell:

Absolom Peredue Somerhayes

“I do believe that Miss Siddons is referring to the massacring of Australian Aborigines by Mr Bidwell recorded in the journal which Sergeant Mulverhill confiscated in Bidwell’s study this morning. If you wish to know more about this and any possible ‘Ripper’ connections I suggest you read the journal for yourself. I am sure the good sergeant has it safe” Absolom favour the inspector with his most enigmatic smile as he turns to follow the others from the room.

Cecil Copeland

Cecil decides it would be beneficial to their unofficial investigation if matters could be pursued at the late Bidwell's address.
The cube has him flummoxed.

Ann Veronica fixes the Inspector with an even gaze.

“Look Inspector, you seem like a decent enough man. At least, you seem to want to get to the bottom of this. Now, all of us have just got mixed up in it by accident. But these people aren’t stupid, and if you listen to them, they might help you solve this mystery. And you might want to start by questioning exactly what Mulverhill’s involvement is.”

Ann Veronica takes her leave. She is curious to return to Bidwell’s home with the others, but three days without fresh garments is too much. Perhaps she can take a cab there in the morning.

"Yes, that is what I meant," says Diane. "The journal also mentions a place called Yekub, where he was trying to get to - or get back to. Maybe it's in Australia? I heard Bidwell mutter it last night, shortly before the attack."

Inspector Cleveland looks thoughtful.

That night...

Mr. McKerry, Reverend Somerhayes, Professor Powell, Mr. Copeland and Miss Siddons:

The Bidwell house stands dark and foreboding when you arrive. A cold, damp fog billows around you, chilling you to the bone while the gaslamps just barely cut through the fog, shrouding everything in thick shadows.

The door stands ajar. Inside, the building is cold and silent, but otherwise as you last saw it this morning: the place is still in disorder from the previous night's party, and nothing appears to have changed, except--

A small, pale figure paces nervously in the foyer, inhaling pinches of snuff with unsteady fingers; he rushes forward at your arrival.

"My friends, I knew you would come!" cries the psychic Godfrey Williamson, in evident agitation. "I was reading the Tarot. I have foreseen great peril! We must hurry!"

He points upward: upon the open landing at the top of the stairs, you can see light seeping from beneath the door to the library.

Everyone here:

Meanwhile...

Ann Veronica Poole:

The short ride across Westminster passes uneventfully; it is a little after nine o'clock when you arrive back at your hotel in the Strand.

"Good evening, Miss Poole," the regular concierge at the lobby desk says cordially, handing you your room key.

Ann Veronica

Inspector Cleveland’s warning suddenly comes into her mind.

“Excuse me, but do you know if anyone has come in here looking for me today?” she asks the concierge.

James quickly looks at Godfrey but is unable to read him. Throwing all caution to the wind, he starts dashing up the stairs two steps at a time.

Gordon has always found the behavior of chemicals and mechanical devices more explicable than those of human beings. Even if the so-called psychic is simply a fraud or a fool, it would do not harm to follow him and explore this mystery further.

Absolom Peredue Somerhayes

Absolom looks at the psychic wondering if his apparent distress is just another act for the gullible, then peers upward to the door from which the light spills. Then following in the footsteps of the professor quickly begins to ascend the stairs.

Psychology,[url=http://orokos.com/roll/539829]Psychology Roll 25%[/url]: [u]1d100[/u] [b]29[/b]

Diane, ever trusting, also hurries up the stairs. "He must have psychic abilities if he knew we were coming," she says.

OOC,Psychology roll (55% skill) about [b]Godfrey Williamson[/b]: [dice]0[/dice]

Cecil Copeland
Cecil hops it up the stairs after the others, without a second glance at Williamson.

Mr. McKerry, Reverend Somerhayes, Professor Powell, Mr. Copeland and Miss Siddons:

Upstairs, Godfrey Williamson pauses and produces a deck of Tarot cards, and shuffles them nervously. He picks a card from the deck, his eyes narrowing, and holds it up to show you with a shaking hand. It is the Hermit.
"The Hermit," he mutters. "A recluse. A man who has abandoned the world and everything on it. A misguided soul, lost to humanity."

The psychic appears to be genuinely frightened.

As you approach the library the door swings open and inside you can see several figures seated silently around the large table, gaslamps on the walls burning brightly.

The Theosophical Society's Annie Beasant; Florence Farr and Dr. William Wynn Wescott of the Golden Dawn; the psychic Robert James Lees: the same guests who took part in the seance are gathered around the table, which is set exactly as it was the previous night; all except for John Bidwell, of course, whose chair remains empty, along with your own.

Behind you, as though moved by an unseen hand, the door glides shut.

Meanwhile...

Ann Veronica Poole:

"Why yes indeed there was," the concierge replies. "It was perhaps an hour ago. Two Chinese men came asking for you. Rather rough-looking fellows, I must say. Didn't speak much English. I informed them that you weren't here and that I wasn't privy to your whereabouts, and sent them on their way."

Ann Veronica thinks quickly. “I need to warn the others.”

"I was a witness to a crime today, and I was helping Scotland Yard” she explains to the concierge. “I think those men may be looking for me in retaliation, so it’s best if I check out. If you could send someone with me to my room while I pack, and then get me a cab to collect me from your rear entrance, going to St. John’s Wood, I’d be extremely grateful.”

She tips the man handsomely.

James is completely mesmerised by the scene in front of him. Without a word, he takes his seat from the night before, closes his eyes for a while, then takes a deep breath and reaches for the hands of neighbours around the table.