IC: Chapter Two- The Death of a Sea Captain

[Raiko]

Chapter Two - The Death of a Sea Captain

Fourth Floor - The Amherst Hotel, New York
08:20am - Wednesday 6th September, 1933

As they leave their rooms, ready to make their way down to breakfast, and the daily meeting with Starkweather and Moore, the investigators are all surprised to find several journalists casually standing in the corridor outside the newly repaired door to Moore's hotel room.

The reported mostly ignore the Expedition team members as they pass, seemingly intent on watching the door to the co-leader's room, ready to pounce if it opens.

The reason for the presence of the journalists becomes apparent when the investigators look at their morning newspapers downstairs, Jack also has a telegram waiting for him at the Amherst's reception desk.

Code: Select all

HEY JACK STOP YOU PROBABLY KNOW
THE SITUATION BY NOW STOP LEFT YOU
OUT OF THINGS THERE STOP SORRY BUT
DID NOT WANT TO ALIENATE 
STARKWEATHER FROM YOU STOP SENT
DANNY TO JOIN THE PACK STOP KEEP
YOUR EARS TO THE GROUND STOP 
JM PATTERSON

FAMED SEA CAPTAIN MURDERED!
Wednesday 6th September 1933
Watery Death for Commander Douglas
New York (AP)- J.B. Douglas, fifty years old, was discovered last night in the water off Battery Wharf. Two fishermen brought the unconscious mariner ashore after an assault by person or persons unknown. Commander Douglas died on the way to the hospital.

A respected officer of the Merchant Marine for many years, Douglas will be remembered as the captain of the SS Arkham, one of the vessels which carried the Miskatonic University Expedition to the Antarctic in 1930. Douglas was reportedly in New York City to speak with the leaders of the Starkweather-Moore Expedition, which will leave in a few days. The expedition expects to retrace the route of Douglas' ship three years ago.

Thomas Gregor and Phil Jones, sailors resident in New York City, were returning to their fishing boat Bristol when they heard muffled cries and ran to see what was happening. They spotted a man running away and some agitation in the water.

While Jones ran after the fleeing man, Gregor dove into the cold waters of the harbour and found a motionless figure there. He heroically pulled the unconscious man out of the water and onto the dock. He attempted to revive the drowned man. Meanwhile Jones, who had lost his quarry, went for help.

Police later announced that Commander Douglas had been bludgeoned about the head, and began a search for his murderers. Anyone with information about this terrible crime, or about Mr. Douglas' whereabouts on the night of the murder should contact Detective Hansen at the Battery Precinct Station.

DEATH ANNOUNCEMENTS
Commander J. B. Douglas
Jeremiah Barnes Douglas, Commander in the United States Merchant Marine (ret.), aged fifty years, died September 5th in New York City. Douglas served as an officer in the Merchant Marine during the Great War. He retired from the Service as a Commander in 1926 after twenty five years. He then captained his own vessel, the Arkham, notably on an expedition to Antarctica in 1930-31. He retired from active life in 1932 to his home in New Hampshire.

Known as "J. B." to his family and friends, Douglas is remembered as quiet, forthright, and a stout friend to all. He is survived by his brother Philip. A graveside Memorial Service will be held September 8th, 11 a.m., at Saint Brigit's Cemetery in Brooklyn.

Explorers coming down from the fifth floor report that it is absolutely packed with reporters, all hoping to see Starkweather who is locked in his room.

[Henrik]

Olof was perplexed. This expedition had not even started and it seemed to be riddled with problems. If you solved one problem, two other would show up. Commander Douglas murdered? Olof did not for one second believe that it was a coincidence. Where there was smoke, there usually was a fire to be found.

"So what do you think about this?" the engineer said. It was an open question not aimed at a particular investigator. "I do not think it is a coincidence."

[BlackGoat]

Sean became very weary now. A death before he joined, and a death now. The removal of Clark, and the endless trouble involving the cargo making a hurried trip evident.

There is something very big here, this trip may not be such a great idea...

With the mention of a surviving brother, Sean questions whether there may be enough time to talk to him about everything that has happened with his brother in the past and present.

You're no expert gumshoe Sean, might be best to speak with a few of the more experienced members of the expedition about it

Sean begins reviewing in his mind what information he does know. It comes to mind that the 1930 expedtion has one known survivor left? Is he next? Sean begins looking for Jack to speak with him about all that has happened, if anything it will eliviate Jack's belief that Sean is here to steal his work.

"Excuse me Jack..."

[Decrepit]

Looks like I'm absolved of the reporting on this one, Jack thinks. This all just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Best to meet with the others after this latest storm blows over and regroup. I also need to get some of that other research done, too, and soon.

Caught up in his thoughts, Jack finally notices Sean trying to get his attention. He might be all right, Jack thinks, but compared to us, he's practically a newborn babe. The team had already been through so much, and they were still in New York.

"Yes, Sean?"

[Steerpike]

McRaven could scarcely believe it. But there it was in black and white, Commander Douglas dead on arrival after being thrown into the bay.

far too many strange things had been happening on the trip, and the pilot was starting to feel a little spooked. He was planning on getting Jack to help him question the veteran skipper about the notes they had been getting, and now this happens within a day of it being announced that he was joining the starkweather-moore expedition.

It was time to take a trip to the room douglas had and check it out like they had with lawrence, maybe even check with the brother of Cmdr Douglas, see if knew anything.

They had to get lucky at some point and figure out what the hell was going on. Getting dressed quickly he gets out of room and goes out looking for Jack.

Getting downstairs he powers his way throught the press pack and spots the hack talking with Mcphearson the photograhper. He makes his way towards them, still clutching the morning newspaper

[Charles Graves]

With everyone busy following their own leads, Graves tries to decide how best to make himself useful.

"Gunner old chap, I'm going to see an acquaintance of mine at police headquaters, a Commissioner Bolan, if you'd care to come along. Let's see what we can find out about the murder of Commander Douglas."

[Ghost_1971]

Callum doesnt really feel like doing any more investigating at the moment. "As soon as I'm done with breakfast, I'm heading back to the docks. I feel the need for some good, honest hard work. All the death and deceipt surrounding this mission is extremely disconcerting. I think we should seriously consider employing some additional security. Both here at the hotel, and down at the ship and warehouse.

[Mister Juan]

For the past few days, Isugtag had kept mostly to himself, silently putting his strong arms to work around the docks. What little conversation he had entertained had been with his fellow polar guide, Callum. The Scot mountaineer share his appreciation of a job well done, and checking the cargo manifest in his company had confirmed the fact they worked well together. Callum’s knowledge about mountain environments had also impressed the Inuit. His own experience was restricted to the Rockies and Appalachians, nothing like the great peaks of the Himalayas. Isugtag, who had at first some doubt about the expertise a Scot could bring on the topic of polar survival, was now glad Callum was aboard.

His respect for his fellow expedition members was only growing in days. The skills of the polar guides had also reassured him a great deal. Since being charged with “security” he had felt slightly overburdened by the new duty. But now, when they would be on the ice, he wouldn’t have to worry so much: they were all good men who knew their jobs.

Since the morning of the 5th, the already rather silent Inuit had kept even more to himself. He had barely spoken a single word, beside his customary “good morning” and “good evening”.

On the morning of the 6th, Isugtag woke up early, as usual. On the bedside table, one of his Colt Revolver was laid to rest, it’s chamber fully loaded. Since the past nightmare he had been gifted with, he had kept the weapon at hand. Something bad was coming their way. Something very bad. To the very core of his being, he could feel it. His people spoke of ancestor spirits that brought warning before the hunt. Apparently… the spirits were already at work.

Once dressed, Grey Wolf took a hold of the revolver, sliding in it one of the inside pocket of his vest. Grabbing the second one from a nearby drawer, he tucked it in his heavy leather belt, in the small of his back. As he exited his room and headed for the lobby, to smoke his morning pipe and read the paper, Isugtag was rather surprised to notice an impressive amount of reporter massed around Moore’s door. When he looked down at the newspaper he had picked up just outside his room, he immediately understood.

One death was possible. Two was getting awfully suspect.

Taking a seat in one of the plush armchair, Isugtag began to read the article, all the while keeping some attention toward the conversation his fellow expedition members were having. Even though he didn’t voice his opinion, the Inuit had to agree with Callum: security was becoming a major concern.

What bothered Isugtag even more was that very few people knew where Douglas was staying. The crime could have very well been a random act of violence… but things were just simply not adding up. Calmly, he folded the newspaper in two and gently settled it on a nearby table. The daily meeting with Moore and Starkweather would probably be delayed, and Isugtag had one thing he wanted to verify. As he began stuffing his pipe, he simply walked out of the room and headed for the main floor exit.

Out on the already busy New York street, Isugtag scratch a match an lit his pipe. Looking up at the sky, he wondered if it was going to rain.

[Raiko]

As he is crossing the room towards Jack and Sean, McRaven notices Isutag leaving the Rose Room, and making for the hotel doors, he has a look of determination on his face, and McRaven wonders what the Inuit guide is up to.

Hearing that Callum will be heading back to the docks Nils says, “I will join you.” Meanwhile he brother agrees to accompany Professor Graves.

About a minute after Isugtag has left the Rose Room, another man walks in. He is a nondescript man with short cropped dark hair and keen eyes wearing a grey overcoat, he takes a seat by the door, and takes out a reporter’s notepad. He seems intent on observing the inhabitants of the Rose Room, and starts to take notes.

[Steerpike]

McRaven stops as he sees the guide walking out the door and making for the main-doors out onto the street. The inuit was was frowning, his brow coming together "A face like thunder" thought McRaven.

He places his paper on the table next to Jack and leans over to whisper in his ear. "Hey Jack, do me a favour, check that guy out thats just come in...he bothers me for some reason"

Having said that he turns and heads out, following the Inuit. He sees him pause outside and lights his pipe while looking up at the sky.
he comes up alongside the indian and looks over to him.

"Going somewhere Isutag?"

[BlackGoat]

Sean now with Jack's attention speaks quietly.

"I'm not much of reporter, or investigator rather. However, I have a feeling something deeper is going on. I figured with you being an investigative type, what do you feel is going on here?"

[Mister Juan]

Pulling some smoke from his now lit pipe, Isugtag gave McRaven a simply nod as a form of greeting.

As he exhaled, his eyes went from the clouded morning sky to his fellow expedition member. "Yes McRaven, I am going somewhere." was all he said as his hand went up to flag a taxi down.

Opening it's door, he held it so McRaven could take a seat.

[Henrik]

Olof follows whoever is going to the police station.

[OrionUK]

At the Rose Hotel as soon as James gets a chance he talks quietly to Jack, Sean & Graves and anyone else within the close vicinity "I have had a chat to Moore & would like to let you know what I have learnt if any of you can spare a moment"

[Steerpike]

McRaven smiles slightly and enters the cab waiting for the inuit to get in.
"You can call me Bill Isugtag, so whats the plan?"

[Mister Juan]

Snapping the door shut behind him, the big Inuit leaned forward toward the driver.

"440 Scammel Street"

He leaned back in the seat, turning toward McRaven. Even in his heavily accented english, it wasn't difficult to notice his seriousness.

"Not many people knew where Commander Douglas was staying; only Starkweather, Moore and..." he turned his attention to the passing street "myself."

He brought his pipe to his mouth.

"I was to pick him up at his hotel, later today. This is where we are going."

[Raiko]

The Rose Room – Amherst Hotel, New York
09:20am - Wednesday 6th September, 1933

As Professor Graves, Olof and Gunnar get up to leave for the NYPD Headquarters, the stranger sat by the door stands up and discretely blocks their way out of the room.

“I wonder if I could have a word gentlemen. I’m Detective Hanson, NYPD Homicide. He takes his shield out of his overcoat pocket and shows it to them. He also nods to Jack, who he spots across the room, apparently they’ve met before.

[OOC: I’ve forgotten to post the picture of Hansen onto imageshack, and I can’t to it now until I get home. The photo is of Bruce Willis, I’m pretty sure it’s from Last Man Standing]


Westbury Hotel – 440 Scammel Street, Lower East Side, New York
09:40am - Wednesday 6th September, 1933

“Sure thing bud, that’s a rough area y’know.”

The taxi ride to the Westbury Hotel on Scammel Street takes nearly thirty minutes, the hotel lies in a particularly seedy area of Manhattan’s notorious Lower East Side between the Williamsburg and Manhattan Bridges. Getting there the taxi had to slowly crawl its way through the busy streets of downtown Manhattan and then through heavy Lower East Side traffic swollen by Brooklyn commuters entering the island using the two bridges.

When the taxi eventually arrives outside the Westbury Hotel, it is not an impressive sight. A battered sign proudly displays “WES RY HOT” above a beaten black doorway. The place looks like little more than a flophouse. Nothing at all like the comfy and expensive hotel that the expedition members are staying at.

Litter and worse things clog the gutters of the dingy potholed street, and shadowed figures watch the taxi suspiciously from the doorways and walkways of nearby tenements. Laundry lines crisscross the street in every direction.

Looking out from their taxi McRaven and Isugtag see that the shops that are adjacent to the Westbury on either side have both been boarded up, one looks burnt out. To make matters worse, it has begun to rain, as Isugtag suspected, The heavy downpour has nowhere to go, due to the clogged gutters, so it pours straight off the buildings and sidewalks into the street, which is now a fast flowing river a half inch deep.

[Decrepit]

I've been wanting to talk with the police, and now they come to me, Jack thinks. He could've done worse than Hanson. He's had a chance to work with him before and found him to be a good cop. But, like, all coppers, Hanson will have his own agenda, and it might or might not line up with Jack's own. Best to play things carefully, especially as he hasn't had much time to talk to the others. Of course, as far as Jack knows, none of them have anything to hide, but still ...

"Detective," Jack says. "Good to see you again. It's been a while. What can i do for you?"

[Mister Juan]

Stepping out of the cab and ankle deep into the murky water, Isugtag didn’t even bother to shield himself from the rain. His long black and gray hair became soaked in a mere second, sticking to his face and head. But the Inuit cared very little. He cared even less about the decrepit nature of the neighborhood, the danger they probably were already in, and the untold things that floated around in the street. Isugtag had slept in flooded trenches where weeks old dead bodies floated amongst the rats. This… This was far from disturbing.

He stood still for a few seconds, his trained hunter eyes panning up the hotel’s run down façade. Of all the places Douglas could have chosen, Isugtag wondered why this one. Was Commander Douglas such a recluse he could only find peace in places forgotten by most?

After throwing a rapid glance over his shoulder toward McRaven, Isugtag finally hoped on the sidewalk and walked in a rather decisive pace toward the hotel’s door.

[Ghost_1971]

Callum heartilly slaps Nils on the back "Excellent my friend lets get this job finished once and for all!"

Stepping outside the cheery Scot hails the nearest cab and ushers Nils inside. Getting in himself, Callum quickly gives tells the cabbie where to go.