"I was in the war too," Marcus responds, his eyes carrying a certain respect for Adams. "How I got this lovely medal," He points to the scar going down the side of his face.
Other than that, he's content to let Cynthia continue to do the talking.
[IC]Chapter 1.2b - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Atauchi glanced over at Marcus as his companion interjected himself into the conversation. He had little knowledge of this Great War, afterall, the conflict hadn't managed to spill over into his part of the world. He only knew what Marcus had told him over the occasional drink at one of the numerous speakeasies the two of them had frequented over the past several years. Still, he understood the concept of camaraderie that it must instill in those whom participated.
OOC: Thanks. I thought about adding a bit about how the Inca often walked the "guilty" off a cliff. If that individual survived, they were permitted to repent and act as a reminder to others about the penalty of their specific crime. |
OOC: @Silver Priest Hope you don't mind, but I decided to fill in a bit of the time in between adventures by making Atauchi and Marcus occasional drinking buddies, heh. |
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
OOC: Not at all! I've a feeling Marcus and Atauchi would be bros lol. |
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
The Death House - Sing Sing Prison, Westchester County, NY
3:05pm - Wednesday 14th January, 1925
"Okay then," Hilton Adams sits back on his bunk and begins his story.
"So when I got back from the war in 1919, I heard tales of folk disappearing in Harlem on the nights of the dark moon. Just one or two people each time, but every month some people just vanish."
"Folks say this has been going on for months, while I was away in France. Ain't no bodies turnin' up mid you, this is still years before the Voodoo killin's begin, every month on the nights that the moon's dark the same thing happens, folks just vanish, never to be seen again. And never heard from either."
He shakes his head in disgust, "Their folks go to talk to the police, but they ain't interested. As far as they is concerned Harlem is full of black folk coming and going. They say maybe they just moved back down south, maybe they don't like the big city. Maybe they just untrustworthy, that they probably be back soon.
"As time goes on, the number of folk vanishing got bigger, it was usually still only two, but sometimes could be even maybe a dozen in the same month, though still always during the dark moon.
"So I got together with some friends who was in the Hellfighters with me during the war. We started to organise patrols to protect the community, an' askin' questions, see if we could find out what was goin' on. Seein' as the police weren't goin' to help, we tried to do their job for them."
He chuckles, at the irony, glancing around his small cell.
"This is where that community spirit got me.
"We never stopped the disappearances, but once I saved a man from being taken. Fought off two men wearing tribal masks, tore off a strip of red cloth from the masks as one of them run away.
"When the killings began, we heard rumour that they was folks who'd got too close to the truth. A folklorist called Dr. Mordecai Lemming, claimed that the symbol carved into the victims heads belonged to an old African death cult, that they was operating in Harlem or that gangsters were usin' the cult's methods scare off rivals.
"So we did some research in the public library, learned of a cult called The Bloody Tongue, who disembowelled their victims and carved the rune in the heads, and who wore masks with red tongues dangling."
Adams pauses to collect his thoughts before continuing.
3:05pm - Wednesday 14th January, 1925
"Okay then," Hilton Adams sits back on his bunk and begins his story.
"So when I got back from the war in 1919, I heard tales of folk disappearing in Harlem on the nights of the dark moon. Just one or two people each time, but every month some people just vanish."
"Folks say this has been going on for months, while I was away in France. Ain't no bodies turnin' up mid you, this is still years before the Voodoo killin's begin, every month on the nights that the moon's dark the same thing happens, folks just vanish, never to be seen again. And never heard from either."
He shakes his head in disgust, "Their folks go to talk to the police, but they ain't interested. As far as they is concerned Harlem is full of black folk coming and going. They say maybe they just moved back down south, maybe they don't like the big city. Maybe they just untrustworthy, that they probably be back soon.
"As time goes on, the number of folk vanishing got bigger, it was usually still only two, but sometimes could be even maybe a dozen in the same month, though still always during the dark moon.
"So I got together with some friends who was in the Hellfighters with me during the war. We started to organise patrols to protect the community, an' askin' questions, see if we could find out what was goin' on. Seein' as the police weren't goin' to help, we tried to do their job for them."
He chuckles, at the irony, glancing around his small cell.
"This is where that community spirit got me.
"We never stopped the disappearances, but once I saved a man from being taken. Fought off two men wearing tribal masks, tore off a strip of red cloth from the masks as one of them run away.
"When the killings began, we heard rumour that they was folks who'd got too close to the truth. A folklorist called Dr. Mordecai Lemming, claimed that the symbol carved into the victims heads belonged to an old African death cult, that they was operating in Harlem or that gangsters were usin' the cult's methods scare off rivals.
"So we did some research in the public library, learned of a cult called The Bloody Tongue, who disembowelled their victims and carved the rune in the heads, and who wore masks with red tongues dangling."
Adams pauses to collect his thoughts before continuing.
OOC: If you want to interrupt, you can. Otherwise I'll post the next bit of my monologue. |
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Cynthia furiously scribbles down notes while Adams tells his story.
She has a number of questions to ask; not least whether Dr. Lemming is still alive and what the mysterious symbol looked like.
However, she knows that, when someone is in full flow, it's often best to let them talk rather than interrupt them and so saves her questions for when the prisoner has finished.
Besides, it can only be a matter of time before he realises that they have more than an academic interest in the case...
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Marcus also waits, but makes a note to ask about Adams companions after he's done. They could prove useful leads to track down.
He also wanted to know more about the man Adams saved from taking.
He also wanted to know more about the man Adams saved from taking.
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Atauchi lit his pipe which began to smolder as he continued to listen to the condemned man recount his tale. Of particular interest were the name and practices of this death cult operating out of the dark continent. It seemed that this folklorist from Harlem could shed some more light on them, provided he himself had not become one of their victims. He leaned against the wall and remained silent.
OOC: Heh, the dice are not with me today. Carry on, Raiko. Nothing to see here. |
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
"After that, we tried to find someone who about that kind of cult. Needham, that's my friend Needham Johnson, one of the Hellfighters, he knew of a shop called Ju Ju House down a back street off of 137th Street near to Lexington Avenue.
"Ju Ju is the name for African magic, and Needham said that the owner Silas N'Kwane was said to be an expert on traditional African magic, an' stocked all sort of magic mumbo jumbo in his little store.
"But Needham is a reporter for the New York Age which is most keen to promote the image of a modern, civilised Harlem. So they weren't happy at all for him to be out at night with me huntin' down no Ju Ju cults an' Voodoo murderers."
A wry smile, "A few o' the boys were getting' pressured by their bosses by this time, so I went to visit Ju Ju house myself.
"Silas N'Kwane was most helpful, a bit eccentric maybe, but a wise old bastard. He agreed that the killin's and the disappearances were linked, and that this cult o' the Bloody Tongue was behind it. He said that a gang o'racketeers had taken to using the ways of an old-old cult out of Kenya to scare away any opposition. He said that the Bloody Tongue was the name of the cult and the name of their god, and that those who vanished under the dark moon would have been sacrificed, because the Bloody Tongue is most powerful when the moon is darkest. The other victims, the so-called Voodoo murders old Silas figured those were the ones who crossed the cult – they learned too much or were rival gangsters. They were left as warnings, victims who the cult wanted to be found.
"He said that the vanished ones would never be found, as the cult wouldn't want the true scale of the murders to be known, even the NYPD could ignore that."
"Me an' the other Hellfighter boys tried takin' this information to the cops at the 14th Precinct, but they didn't have time for hearin' tales o' no African murder cult. They'd heard about our vigilante patrols by now, so they took a couple o' us in the back an' give us a good seein' to. Then kicked us out, an' told us to leave the policin' to the police."
He pauses again, rubs his chin and stares intently at Cynthia, "We didn't give up though. We looked into some o' the killin's, and heard that the PI, Van Buskirk, had visited the same speakeasy that poor Roberta Barlow had worked at, Fat Maybelle's. Some of the vanished had been there too."
"So I paid a few visits to Fat Maybelle's to stake it out. A nasty thug called Mukunga M'Dari runs a numbers racket upstairs, and his gang keeps Maybelle stocked up on liquor.
"After a few nights watching the place, I spotted M'Dari leaving on his own, so I tried to follow him. I lost him down a back alley, but found the body of Adolf Thurmond gutted an' layin' in a pool of bloody. With the cult symbol carved in his head."
Hilton shake his head bitterly, "As I bent over his body, the cops showed up, like they was waitin' for me. They said they found my bolo at the scene, covered in Adolf's blood, but I ain't no fool, I knew the murders were done with a big knife, so I never took the bolo out on patrol, just my army revolver. Cops planted my knife."
"Ju Ju is the name for African magic, and Needham said that the owner Silas N'Kwane was said to be an expert on traditional African magic, an' stocked all sort of magic mumbo jumbo in his little store.
"But Needham is a reporter for the New York Age which is most keen to promote the image of a modern, civilised Harlem. So they weren't happy at all for him to be out at night with me huntin' down no Ju Ju cults an' Voodoo murderers."
A wry smile, "A few o' the boys were getting' pressured by their bosses by this time, so I went to visit Ju Ju house myself.
"Silas N'Kwane was most helpful, a bit eccentric maybe, but a wise old bastard. He agreed that the killin's and the disappearances were linked, and that this cult o' the Bloody Tongue was behind it. He said that a gang o'racketeers had taken to using the ways of an old-old cult out of Kenya to scare away any opposition. He said that the Bloody Tongue was the name of the cult and the name of their god, and that those who vanished under the dark moon would have been sacrificed, because the Bloody Tongue is most powerful when the moon is darkest. The other victims, the so-called Voodoo murders old Silas figured those were the ones who crossed the cult – they learned too much or were rival gangsters. They were left as warnings, victims who the cult wanted to be found.
"He said that the vanished ones would never be found, as the cult wouldn't want the true scale of the murders to be known, even the NYPD could ignore that."
"Me an' the other Hellfighter boys tried takin' this information to the cops at the 14th Precinct, but they didn't have time for hearin' tales o' no African murder cult. They'd heard about our vigilante patrols by now, so they took a couple o' us in the back an' give us a good seein' to. Then kicked us out, an' told us to leave the policin' to the police."
He pauses again, rubs his chin and stares intently at Cynthia, "We didn't give up though. We looked into some o' the killin's, and heard that the PI, Van Buskirk, had visited the same speakeasy that poor Roberta Barlow had worked at, Fat Maybelle's. Some of the vanished had been there too."
"So I paid a few visits to Fat Maybelle's to stake it out. A nasty thug called Mukunga M'Dari runs a numbers racket upstairs, and his gang keeps Maybelle stocked up on liquor.
"After a few nights watching the place, I spotted M'Dari leaving on his own, so I tried to follow him. I lost him down a back alley, but found the body of Adolf Thurmond gutted an' layin' in a pool of bloody. With the cult symbol carved in his head."
Hilton shake his head bitterly, "As I bent over his body, the cops showed up, like they was waitin' for me. They said they found my bolo at the scene, covered in Adolf's blood, but I ain't no fool, I knew the murders were done with a big knife, so I never took the bolo out on patrol, just my army revolver. Cops planted my knife."
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Cynthia immediately thinks of the rapier hanging over her fireplace and suppresses a shudder. If Adams was telling the truth, then, like his bolo, she could easily be framed with that.
"Damn - that's quite a story. So why d'you think the cops fitted you up?"
It's not unheard of for cops to be on the take, but she wants to hear Adam's thoughts on the subject.
"If you were released today, who would you trust and who would you go and beat the crap out of?"
Not the most subtle line if questioning, but, given the apparent scale and reach of this cult, subtlety might not be the answer.
Finally, going for broke, she asks:
"This symbol of theirs, can you describe it?"
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
"Sounds like someone in the cult may have framed you," says Marcus. "This M'Dari leads you on a wild goose chase, make sure you stumble upon a fresh kill, and then arrange for the police to show up the same time you're there. That's what I'd have done, at least. Not that the police are innocent; I'm sure they loved the case being wrapped up for them and asked very few questions as to how convenient it all turned out to be.
"Any of your buddies still out there looking into this, trying to prove your innocence? Heard this reporter lady is trying to help prove you didn't do it."
"Any of your buddies still out there looking into this, trying to prove your innocence? Heard this reporter lady is trying to help prove you didn't do it."
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Atauchi silently puffed on his pipe as the other two continued to hound the prisoner with questions. The Quechua man followed the interrogation that was taking place before him, but saw no reason to partake himself. He had once heard Jackson refer to their group as investigators, though he never felt that term really suited him. His role was much more simple than that. Asking questions and academic research were things the others were tasked with, not him.
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
"Well, I ain't sayin' that every cop is guilty, but I left the bolo at home. The police searched the house and the knife turned up at the crime scene." Hilton nods his head and scowls, "So I expect some cops got a better idea than me how it came to be there.
"The lady reporter is Rebecca Shosenburg, she writes for The Times. She seems like a good woman, or at least she sees a good story if things turn out in my favour.
"Other than Miss Shosenburg, the only person I can be sure I trust is my wife Millie. I told her not to get involved, for her own safety, but I know she's been talkin' to Miss Shosenburg and I worry she's been lookin' for proof herself too.
"My old war pals in the Hellfighters? Well I guess they've been scared off, I ain't heard from them since my arrest. Don't blame them, though.
"If I got out today, first person I'd be lookin' for is Mukunga M'Dari.
"As for the symbol, the one carved on the victims looked kind of like a flower pattern inside two crescent like brackets, but Silas N'Kwane said that the flower pattern represents the maw of the Bloody Tongue. He said that sometimes the Bloody Tongue is represented by a Spiral pattern instead."
"The lady reporter is Rebecca Shosenburg, she writes for The Times. She seems like a good woman, or at least she sees a good story if things turn out in my favour.
"Other than Miss Shosenburg, the only person I can be sure I trust is my wife Millie. I told her not to get involved, for her own safety, but I know she's been talkin' to Miss Shosenburg and I worry she's been lookin' for proof herself too.
"My old war pals in the Hellfighters? Well I guess they've been scared off, I ain't heard from them since my arrest. Don't blame them, though.
"If I got out today, first person I'd be lookin' for is Mukunga M'Dari.
"As for the symbol, the one carved on the victims looked kind of like a flower pattern inside two crescent like brackets, but Silas N'Kwane said that the flower pattern represents the maw of the Bloody Tongue. He said that sometimes the Bloody Tongue is represented by a Spiral pattern instead."
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Cynthia stiffens at the mention of the spiral symbol. Was it a coincidence that Larkin had a spiral tattooed on his chest? There was also the African connection to consider. Sure, Africa was a big place, and the spiral is hardly an unusual thing to find in any culture's art, but even so...
"What about Dr. Lemming, is he still around?"
After this she asks:
"Ever hear the name Larkin during all this?"
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
At the mention of Larkin, Marcus tenses for a few seconds. His memories of Peru were not his fondest.
"Thanks for the interview Mr. Adams. For what little it's worth, I believe you. We've dealt with something similar before. Can't go too far into details at the moment but we'll look into it. You've given us a lot of leads to look into, and if there's anything there we'll do what we can to help you out. I'll also check in on your wife, make sure she's not getting in over her head in all this."
"Thanks for the interview Mr. Adams. For what little it's worth, I believe you. We've dealt with something similar before. Can't go too far into details at the moment but we'll look into it. You've given us a lot of leads to look into, and if there's anything there we'll do what we can to help you out. I'll also check in on your wife, make sure she's not getting in over her head in all this."
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Cynthia sighs quietly - so much for the pretence. Still, their lines of questioning must've hinted that their interest in the murders was less than academic - Adams was certainly no fool.
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Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
OOC: Oops, sorry about that jp1885. Marcus is not the most subtle.<< |
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
OOC: No worries mate, it all adds to the RP  |
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
As far as I know, Dr. Lemming can still be found in the Murray Hill Hotel, unless the money's run out. He's livin' off of some inheritance.
The hotel's a block away from Grand Central on Park Avenue. I had a hard time gettin' in there to see him though, an' he couldn't get me out quick enough. I ain't the kind o' person who they like to see in the Murray Hill Hotel apparently, not outside the kitchen's at least."
Adams chuckles as his eyes drift over Marcus and Atauchi, "I ain't sure your friends are their type neither Miss."
"As to Larkin, I don't think that I've ever heard that name. Why?
"I appreciate anything you can do to help. Don't be gettin' into no trouble on my account, but I'd owe you one if you looked in to see Millie, I don't expec' I'll be a no position to repay the debt though."
The hotel's a block away from Grand Central on Park Avenue. I had a hard time gettin' in there to see him though, an' he couldn't get me out quick enough. I ain't the kind o' person who they like to see in the Murray Hill Hotel apparently, not outside the kitchen's at least."
Adams chuckles as his eyes drift over Marcus and Atauchi, "I ain't sure your friends are their type neither Miss."
"As to Larkin, I don't think that I've ever heard that name. Why?
"I appreciate anything you can do to help. Don't be gettin' into no trouble on my account, but I'd owe you one if you looked in to see Millie, I don't expec' I'll be a no position to repay the debt though."
Re: [IC]Chapter One - A Visit to Old Sparky's House
Cynthia waves away Adams' question as she finishes up her notes.
"Oh, just a name that cropped up recently. We'll certainly go see your wife if you're happy for us to do so."
She is about to add 'we'll send her your regards', but loud and insensitive as she usually is, even she knows that'd be way too glib.
"Oh, and if we visit Dr. Lemming we'll be sure to bear that in mind."
She shuts her notebook. If this really was a study into the mind of a serial killer, then the result would be a fascinating treatise on how the guilty can so utterly deceive themselves into believing they were completely innocent of their crimes, subconsciously concocting a cockamamie story to divorce themselves from their deeds - some kind of dissociation perhaps.
However this isn't a real study, and Cynthia is pretty sure that the guy is innocent. She briefly considers saying as such, but perhaps offering such a ray of hope would be more cruel than keeping her thoughts to herself.
She turns to the others.
"Unless you have anything to ask, we'll thank Mr. Adams and be on our way."
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