Play@YSDC

New Scotland Yard - Victoria Embankment
8:25pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

The drive to Scotland Yard takes a little over ten minutes, it has started to rain which means the "pea-souper" fog is finally clearing.

As Jones leads Elizabeth and Johnny into the building the Duty Sergeant (Meadows) hands him a note, "Inspector Barrington phoned about five minutes ago, he left you this message."

The Note wrote: FAO Sgt Jones,

Phone Call from Insp Barrington at 20:19 -- 29[sup]th[/sup] Jan.

Phoned Gavigan, not at home tonight, at his country house for two days.

Heading over there tonight to clear up this mess.

"Thank you, Meadows," says Jones, pocketing the note. "I don't suppose he mentioned the address or telephone number of the country house, in case I need to reach him?" To Elizabeth and Johnny he said. "I'll drop off the evidence for analysis first. The sooner they start, the sooner they'll finish. We can also get your prints for elimination while we're at it. Then I'll requisition what I need and finish the interview. We have tea and biscuits if you like."

Mr. Handy wrote:"I don't suppose he mentioned the address or telephone number of the country house, in case I need to reach him?"

"I think it's probably on file from earlier in the investigation. I'll have someone dig it out for you straight away."

"Thanks again," says Jones. "I'll be in the fingerprint lab." He leads Elizabeth and Johnny further into New Scotland Yard. "This way, Miss."

Elizabeth follows Jones down the corridor. "Thank you, but no refreshments are necessary. I am just very glad to be out of that hotel." She pulls her coat a little tighter.

The forensic technicians take the evidence from Sergeant Jones. They'll compare the fingerprints that he recovered with those on file, they should know whether they have a match tomorrow with luck. They warn him that it's unlikely that they'll be able to recover fingerprints from the letter, but it's always worth trying. If the typewriter that was used to write the letter is found they think they'll be able to confirm the match.

OOC,fingerprint recovery from paper appears to rely on either super-glue vapour or very greasy hands. Unfortunately super-glue doesn't exist yet, so it depends on what the author has been eating.

"Thank you," says Jones to the technicians. "I'm sure you'll do the best you can. At least the fingerprints from the crime scene itself are rather clear." He nods to Elizabeth and Johnny. "If you're ready to proceed, I'll go requisition a revolver for myself and whistles for the two of you - and one for your friend Caroline as well, for when we meet her."

"Thank you," says Johnny, "that will be a great comfort."

He pauses thoughtfully for a moment before continuing, "Sergeant Jones, your Inspector seemed keen for Miss Downing to be sent home as quickly as possible, but I feel that I must caution against such an action."

"The situation in New York is every bit as dangerous as here in London, when we departed, we had little choice. And if you don't mind me saying, you seem to be making better progress in your investigations than the New York police."

"If Miss Downing were placed on a ship back to New York, then I fear that you would be condemning her and the rest of us to the same fate that her friend Jackson Elias met."

"You're welcome, Mr. Wong," says Jones. "Thank you, and you're quite right. Returning to New York is not an option, not with the killers there still at large. I don't think Inspector Barrington is aware of the full situation yet, or I doubt he'd be in favor of it. At the time, a voyage to London probably seemed the safest thing. Once we rout out the rest of the killers, it will be safe again, though until then we'll need to be careful."

The duty sergeant Meadows rushes across to Jones, he speaks in an urgent whisper, "Sorry to disturb you, be we've just received word of a shooting at the Blue Pyramid Club. The first constables on the scene have reported that one of the doormen was shot dead. The doorman was armed as well."

"The report is rather confusing, apparently the only real witnesses have claimed that a Russian spy saved a dancing girl from being killed by rest of the staff!"

"Also I thought that DC Woods was watching the club, but no one's heard from him since he reported the earlier incident."

"Yes, Inspector Barrington and I couldn't find him when we visited the Blue Pyramid Club earlier," says Jones. "I did have a bad feeling about that at the time and spoke to him about it. We were called away to the Ritz before we had a chance to go looking for him properly, but he hadn't gone inside. I'll head back to the club immediately. Does anyone know exactly where Woods was supposed to be watching from? There might be some indication there of what happened to him." He turns back to Elizabeth and Johnny. "It should be safe to bring you both there, as there will be plenty of constables there. However, anyone there will see you with us, and if they're involved in all this, they may report it to the author of that note. It's up to you if you want to come with me or remain here at Scotland Yard until I return. You'll be safe enough here, that's for certain."

"Ah, yes. Well, thank you, Jones, but from what I have heard of this place, the clientele are precisely the type of people who we may not want to come in contact with. But ... I am eager to hear more about this incident, since," Elizabeth swallows, then continues, "since I think this 'Russian spy' may in fact be a friend of ours!"

Jones raises an eyebrow. "It certainly is a small world," he says. "A Russian knight in shining armour who rescues a damsel in distress? That sounds awfully familiar. My guess is it's one of the Rukov brothers. Do you know them?"

Elizabeth looks embarrassed. "Well, yes, in fact. We have been traveling with the Rukovs since New York. They have been involved in all of this from the very beginning."

"Ah," says Jones. "That does make sense. You'll have to tell me how you joined up with them sometime, but I had better get over to the club quickly. If you do wish to come with me, you can tell me on the way. Otherwise, it will have to wait for my return."

New Scotland Yard - Victoria Embankment, London 8:35pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

Johnny nods politely, "We shall accompany you to the scene Sergeant, hopefully our friend is safe, as well as the damsel that he rescued."

"Please, you must take care though. From our experiences in New York we know that these particular criminal gangs have no qualms whatsoever about attacking the police once they realise that the game is up."

"The police in New York were heavily armed, but they were slaughtered when they raided the criminal headquarters in Harlem."

"Thank you for the warning, Mr. Wong," says Jones, distributing the whistles. "You are right, and I will be cautious. I fear that DC Woods may have already met with such a fate. We'll have to keep alert for any sign of danger. Let's go. We can take the same car that I drove here, though I must admit I'm not much of a driver. Do your duties in your service to Miss Downing include being a chauffeur?"

If Johnny is surprised by Jones' suggestion, he doesn't show it.

"Yes Sergeant, I often drive Miss Downing and I'd be happy to drive you both now. It's been a while since I last drove a police car though."

He takes out a cigarette, "Is it ok if I smoke?"

"Shall we be going?"

"Of course," says Jones, "I don't mind if you smoke. Thank you, it would be better if you drive. As long as you recall that we drive on the left side of the road here, you'll do fine. I'll sit in the front passenger seat in case there's trouble as we arrive, and Miss Downing can ride in the back seat. Let us be off, then."

It is still raining as Jones leads the others out to the car. Visibility is now much better than during the fog though.

OOC,I'll give Imme chance to post tonight. If she doesn't then I'll move you to the Pyramid Club tomorrow.

OCC,sorry it's taken me so long to respond! thanks for carrying on

Elizabeth ducks into the car and brushes the rain off of her coat. "The Rukov twins became part of our group because I met them through Andrei," she pauses, obviously unsure of how to continue. Whatever else she had been going to say is left unspoken. "I met Andrei while traveling around Europe and he had decided to come back to New York with me."

OOC,Welcome back! I'm not sure how much, if anything, my character knows about [b]Andrei[/b].

Once Elizabeth has gotten into the car, Jones gets in the shotgun seat. "I presume Andrei is part of your group as well," he says. "That makes six at least, by my count. Are there any others I should know about?"

Johnny takes a few seconds to familiarize himself with the cars controls, then starts the engine, he leaves the talking to Elizabeth if at all possible.

OOC,Andrei, Maksim and Nethaniel were the "heroes" of the battle at the British Museum, although I think they mostly spoke to Barrington. I'll double check who met who, my memory is a little rusty.

"That's quite an entourage you've got, Miss Downing," says Jones. "How did you make his acquaintance?"

"Do you know where he is at present?" asks Jones. "He may very well be in danger too."

The Blue Pyramid Club -Soho, London[/color] 8:50pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

Johnny parks the car close to the Blue Pyramid Club. A small crowd has gathered on the street - kept away from the club by a handful of uniformed constables. Worryingly there is still no sign of Detective Woods. As far as Jones can see there is also nobody present from the staff of the Blue Pyramid.

Among the crowd are a half dozen or so journalists, Johnny notices the ginger haired Mickey Mahoney of that infamous tabloid rag The Scoop amongst their number.

A uniformed sergeant who Jones does not recognise appears to have taken charge of the scene.

OOC,Assume that Jones now knows exactly which building Woods had been observing the Club from (a nearby tea room). Grafster is hoping to drop back in again soon, and also hopes that his workload will soon be eased a bit. Which is fantastic news. :)

Jones emerges from the car and then opens the back door so that Elizabeth can get out. When she and Johnny are ready, he approaches the sergeant, taking out his warrant card, reasoning that if he doesn't recognize the man, the reverse may also be true. "Sergeant, I'm DS Jones from Scotland Yard," he says, displaying the warrant card. "What can you tell me about the situation here?"

OOC,Hooray! :D

The sergeant is old and overweight. Red faced and panting he looks like he'd much rather be behind a desk back at the Yard than out investigating gunfights.

"I'm Sergeant Fowler, I'm really glad you're here to take over Jones: there's one body inside - shot twice. A doorman from the club. The victim was armed with an unregistered handgun, but doesn't appear to have fired."

"No one from the club staff are still around, they all fled the scene, and most of the witnesses didn't really see anything - they panicked when the shooting started."

"These two young lady's over here," Fowler points to indicate two attractive ladies in their early twenties, well dressed for a night of partying, "claim to have accompanied the perpetrators into the club."

"They claimed that the two men they accompanied were a British and a Russian spy, the Russian was called 'Maks' and claimed to be working for the American Secret Service! They rescued one of the dancers when a barman attacked her, and claim that they were here to rescue another lady called Gwen. Quite an incredible tale, but there are no other reliable witnesses to back up or refute the girls' story!"

"Thank you, Fowler," says Jones. "I'll surely want to interview the ladies and examine the scene. There may very well be truth to their tale. This Russian named 'Maks' can only be Maksim Rukov, who was involved in another incident at the British Museum earlier. He rescued a girl named Gwendolyn Everettson from the Egyptian Murderers there, and he seems to be making a habit of it. This is the first I've heard of him being a spy, though he may have merely claimed to be one. Then again, for all I know, he may be one in actuality. The British gentleman could be your Nethaniel, Miss Downing, but I'll have to get a description from the witnesses to be sure. Any sign of DC Woods, Fowler? I know he was supposed to be watching the club from the tea room over there, but he was missing when Inspector Barrington and I were here before because of an earlier disturbance that most likely involved Maksim Rukov."

Elizabeth surveys the scene carefully, eager for any sign of her friends, while at the same time trying not to draw attention to herself, especially since she has noticed the presence of journalists in the crowd. When Fowler points out the pair of women, Elizabeth scrutinizes their appearance and demeanor, trying to understand how they may have been involved in this.

"No Jones, I'm afraid that you're the first detective that we've seen at the scene." Fowler peers at the tea-room, "I'll take a constable across to ask after Woods, while you're investigating the club and interviewing the witnesses."

Behind the cops, Johnny does his best to screen Elizabeth from the view of the reporters, conscious that Mickey Mahoney at least will almost certainly recognise him. Elizabeth can see the two young ladies clearly from where she stands, they're very attractive looking and scantily dressed, it's not difficult to imagine Maksim Rukovcrossing paths with them!

Jones approaches the two women, motioning for Elizabeth and Johnny to come with him. He carefully positions himself so that he is physically blocking the view of the reporters to keep them from seeing Elizabeth. "Mr. Wong, you may want to stand so that the reporters' view of your employer is obstructed," he says quietly to Johnny as he takes out his notebook and pencil.

"Good evening, ladies," says Jones with a smile when he reaches them. "I'm Detective Sergeant Jones of Scotland Yard. I'm sure you've already been asked some questions, but I'd like to get your statements. May I please have your names, and can you describe to me what happened in your own words?"

Outside The Blue Pyramid Club - Soho, London
8:52pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

Both girls are in their early twenties, one blond the other brunette, their hair cut shoulder length and styled in a manner familiar to Elizabeth that was fashionable in New York a year ago.

The brunette introduces herself to Jones, "I'm Agatha Williams sergeant, and this is my friend Alice Hunter," she indicates the blond girl.

"We came to the Blue Pyramid Club with a Russian gentleman called 'Maks' who we met a little earlier and his friend..." Agatha blushes as she adds, "well I'm afraid we didn't catch the name of Maks' friend, but he was a proper gentleman and definitely not a foreigner."

"It was Maks that shot the man inside, but he was saving the dancing girl from the foreign spies. He's so brave!"

OOC,Sorry a shorter post than planned, but I need to get posting regularly in this thread now, so some a couple of shorter posts'll get me into a routine. :)

OOC,That's fine, I can just have one question answered at a time.

Jones jots down the information in his notebook and looks back up at the girls. "Thank you, Miss Williams," he says. "Can you please describe the other gentleman, and also the girl? How tall they were, how much they weigh, hair color and style, clothing, anything you can remember that stands out. And do you know the girl's name?"

"I don't recall the British gentleman very well, appearance-wise," says Agatha. "They both looked like movie stars, but there was nothing daring about him, appearance-wise. He seemed a bit, well, nervous. I can't really remember now if he was blond or brunette."

"He was blond, dirty blond," said Alice.

"No, I think it might have been a reddish brown?" asked Agatha. "Maybe?" She actually looks at Detective Jones for confirmation. "Oh, I really can't be sure."

"That's because he was blond."

"I think he might have been pretending to be an East Ender. He snuck inside the office when nobody is looking, before the shooting started when Maks came back with that woman. The barkeeper didn't seem to like that. He grabbed the woman and dragged her into the office. Maks followed with his gun, kicked the door open, ooh, it was all very frightening and more than a bit heroic. The woman was black, one of the dancers here, not negro-black, but dancer black, close to it but not as dark. Very pretty woman, scantily dressed. Dark hair and eyes. Can't remember much else about her. At the time I was pretty aware of her because, well, she obviously had a history with Maks. The girl was pretty tall. She was just a few inches shy of Maks. I don't really know how to describe her. Other than her rather large ... well." Agatha giggles. "The two gentlemen were heroes. I hope they're not going to be arrested."

Jones smiles as he jots down more notes. "Oh, I think it's far more likely I'll be arresting the barman," he says. "Can you describe him too, please? If you know his name, that would be a great help as well. Also, did you see which way they went when they left the club?"

"Umm, he was biggish, darkish, not ... I don't know ... he grabbed the girl and everyone rushed the door to get her out and then there was shooting and I wasn't really paying attention. I think they ran off with him, the bartender, I mean. I think they arrested him." Alice drops her voice to a whisper on the last few words.

Elizabeth quirks an eyebrow at that. Johnny says nothing.

"One of them was a policeman?" asks Jones, raising an eyebrow as well. "Did he produce a warrant card?" He describes Detective Constable Woods. "Did you see a man who looked like that?"

"No, no, Max, the American spy ... I think her arrested him." Alice smiled shyly. "American spies can arrest people, can't they?"

"Well, not as such," says Jones, "but I'm sure we can get it all sorted once I talk to him. Did you see which exit from the club they used?"

"I think they went out the front doors," she says. "They shot a man dead on the way out. One of the bouncers came at them. I don't know any more than that."

"All right, thank you," says Jones, writing some more down. "I just need addresses at which we can contact you in case we have any further questions later." His mind is already racing ahead. He may be able to find some trace of their trail out in front of the club, especially if they stepped in the bouncer's blood or something. However, he suspects that they probably went to the burning spice shop after they left here - unless they had been there first. Two incidents in such proximity to each other couldn't be a coincidence.

One of the constables duly approaches as Jones takes down her details. "Would you like to see inside the main office? We found a few things that might interest you." He casts a curious glance over at Jones' two followers but otherwise doesn't comment.

"Yes, thank you, Constable," says Jones. "Let's go have a look." He motions for Elizabeth and Johnny to accompany him.

Inside the Blue Pyramid Club
9:02pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

The air is thick with tobacco smoke and the aroma of hashish lingers in the club, although everyone has been cleared from the club and there is no sign of any hookah. The tables are empty. A band containing foreign instruments sit upon a stage. There's a door to an office in one corner of the club, as well as other doors leading to a changing room and doors for the customer toilets which are all labeled. The general decor is Ancient Egyptian themed, so the walls are all decorated with hieroglyphics under a thick layer of tobacco stains, and the pillars supporting the ceiling are also decorated in an Egyptian style. There's a police photographer snapping pictures of a dead bouncer on the floor. It looks like he's been shot twice (Medicine roll to see what you can figure out) and a police pathologist is standing idly nearby, viewing the whole scene and smoking a cigarette.

The constable leads them into an untidy office, the threadbare carpet has been stained so many times, that it's original pattern is no longer visible. The battered oak desk is littered with papers as well as few pieces of discarded food and a stained coffee cup which sits next to an overflowing ashtray. Card boxes stuffed with documents are piled haphazardly against one wall of the office, while a half empty bookcase stands against the opposite wall. Underneath an empty curtain-rail, a grimy window looks out onto the alleyway behind the club.

A quick glance at the papers littering the desk show they relate to the day-to-day running of the club. The desk's single drawer is open revealing a Webley revolver, eight loose rounds of .455 ammunition, and a huge butcher's cleaver. There are also around a dozen copies of the Daily Scoop, Mickey Mahoney's newspaper. Most of them feature the Irish hack's theories about the Egyptian Murders on the front cover.

"This is what we've found so far," says the constable. "It looks like the barkeeper's missing ... a man called Menkheper. There's no sign of the owner or the other bouncer."

Jones doesn't have the expertise to tell much about the body beyond the obvious, but he makes a mental note to ask the pathologist about it later. "The witnesses told me that Maks and the chap with him made off with the bartender after they rescued the dancing girl from him," he tells the constable, "and that they shot the bouncer when he came at them. Now, let's see what we've got here." He slips on a pair of gloves so as not to contaminate the scene. He starts by flipping through the copies of the Daily Scoop, looking for any articles that had had part of them circled or been clipped out. Perhaps the Irishman had been onto something after all. Why else would all of these copies of the paper be here?

Unfortunately it doesn't seem that many of the others have bothered with gloves, likely assuming that a public place would be so riddled with different fingerprints that it would be impossible to process them all. Not to mention the fact that many police officers these days scoff at forensics ... unfortunately. Still that doesn't mean that Jones can't set a good example by keeping a good chain of evidence. He quickly reads the articles and sees that they have nothing to add over what he's already read thus far though it appears that this drawer contains every article ever published on this incident.

SLAUGHTER CONTINUES!
Scoop Offers Reward!

AN UNIDENTIFIED FOREIGNER was found floating in the Thames this Thursday, the 24th victim in a series of bizarre slayings.

Though Inspector James Barrington of the Yard had no immediate comment, sources exclusive to The Scoop agreed that the victim had been beaten severely by one or more assailants, and then stabbed through the heart.

This series of murders has continued over the space of three years, to the bafflement of our faithful Metropolitans. Must we hope that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, though reported by Mr Doyle to he in retirement, will one last time rise to the defence of our majestic isles?

Readers of The Scoop are reminded that this esteemed journal has a standing reward for information Leading to the apprehension and conviction of the perpetrators, in an amount now risen to £24 with the latest death. Be on guard
- THE SCOOP

Jones puts the papers back where he found them and turns his attention to the Webley in the drawer. He looks to see how many bullets are in the Webley and dusts it for fingerprints. He then does the same for the loose bullets, the cleaver, and the handle of the desk drawer. Someone who had been in here recently had shown interest in the drawer and may have handled its contents - and had almost certainly touched the handle to open it. It could have been the bartender, the dancer, Maksim Rukov, or his unidentified companion - possibly one of Elizabeth Downing's other friends. Any prints he could recover might be helpful.

While he can dust the barrel or trigger guard for prints it is impossible to get prints off the pistol grip (in this era). There do seem to be a few on the barrel though they're badly smudged and difficult to lift from the steel. The bullets and cleaver are easy to take prints from. The wooden drawer handle is covered in layered fingerprints though whether from the fingertips, mid-finger-prints, or what not though they are relatively easy to lift. Without comparison prints from all of the suspects he won't be able to match the print to the scene of the crime. It might be worth keeping the Rukovs prints on file (or on a wallet card), at the very least, when next he meets them considering the sort of trouble they seem to get into on a regular basis. The gun in here doesn't appear to be recently fired. There's no smell of gunpowder about it nor any residue - at least not since it was last cleaned which was awhile ago. This certainly wasn't the gun that did the deed on the bouncer. As he lifts the fingerprints, he moves aside some of the papers that were likely to overflower into the drawer and notes half a dozen roughly engraved lines as though a blade hacked into it with some force judging by the hard wood. The engraved lines aren't very deep - just a couple millimeters - but they're several inches long.

"What have we here?" mutters Jones. He carefully removes the papers that are on top of the desk around the carved lines so that he can see how far they extend and determine if they are writing or if they were gouged in some sort of pattern.

There don't seem to be many but they do appear to be approximately the same length. Their depth varies. There's a little bit of brown stain inside some of the gaps that looks like very old and dried blood stains.

"Perhaps we should be getting on?" asks Elizabeth with a surreptitious glance at the clock. "I'm sure you must be getting tired of taking us along with you. It's almost nine o'clock and I fear that I am getting very sleepy. I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"I don't mind protecting you, Miss Downing," says Jones, "but I can understand that you must be exhausted after this long day. We'll need to find a place for you to stay anonymously, and I'll arrange for constables to watch over you." He points out the gouges to the constable. "Those look like they were made by that cleaver in the drawer. The stains could be blood."

"I don't mind protecting you, Miss Downing," says Jones, "but I can understand that you must be exhausted after this long day. We'll need to find a place for you to stay anonymously, and I'll arrange for constables to watch over you."

"That would be lovely," says Elizabeth, in response to Jones' words. Her eyes flick back to the clock again and then, with an effort, she looks away and toward Johnny. "So long as we're on the ground floor or on a room with a fire escape. I'd hate to feel trapped considering all that's happened here."

He points out the gouges to the constable. "Those look like they were made by that cleaver in the drawer. The stains could be blood."

"Makes sense," says one of the constables with a nod. "Maybe the club owners were enforcing silence with the cleaver." He waggles one of his fingers but tries to keep it out of sight of Elizabeth.

"Wouldn't surprise me," says Jones to the constables. "Mr. Wong, can you please bring my car around back? Miss Downing, you and I should leave through the back door to avoid that flock of reporters out front. There are constables in the rear guarding the entrance, right?" he asks the bobbies. Considering that this is an active crime scene, he can't imagine there wouldn't be. "They'll help keep you safe until we're away."

Wong nods and heads out through the front doors to the car, looking about for any sign of an attacker but luckily the streets are fairly deserted other than the people you'd expect to crowd around a crime scene. He hops into the car and drives it down a laneway to the rear door which sat a couple feet above the ground on a cement block to help with loading. There were a few steps down to the ground. The only person guarding the mouth of the alley was a constable idly smoking a cigarette who had no reason to expect much trouble. It doesn't take long for Jones and Elizabeth to reach the car either though they have to go through the staff area which contains the dressing rooms.

Jones opens the rear door for Elizabeth and closes it once she is seated, then gets into the shotgun seat. "We should go back to the Yard and pick up some reinforcements to help me protect you first," he says, glancing over his shoulder into the back seat. "We'll need to decide on a new hotel and arrange for your luggage to be discreetly transferred. I'd suggest somewhere not as upscale as the Ritz, someplace modest and anonymous. Anyone who means you harm would expect you to stay at one of London's finest hotels. We'll check in under assumed names. I think we ought to secure two rooms with a connecting door, either on the ground floor or with a fire escape like you said. That means we'll need to watch the windows as well. A way out could also be used as a way in."

Elizabeth sighs. "Am I under arrest, Inspector? And will you be seeking to file charges against any of my friends?"

"No, Miss Downing, you're not under arrest," says Jones. "As far as I can tell, you haven't broken any laws. Thank you for promoting me, but I'm merely a sergeant. As for your friends, from the witness statements this appears to be a clear cut case of self-defense. They were trying to prevent a kidnapping, and they shot the bouncer after he attacked them. There is the matter of where they got a gun in the first place. They also made off with the bartender after they captured him, but after the bouncer's attack they had good reason to fear other members of the club's staff and couldn't afford to stick around and wait for the police to arrive. I very well might not be the detective assigned to investigate the situation at the club and the bouncer's death, and I don't know what additional evidence will be found, so I can't say that there won't be charges against them at some point. But my priority is to bring the rest of these blasted Egyptian Murderers to justice and to find out what happened to my colleague, Detective Constable Woods. Do you have any idea where your friends may have gone after they left the club? They seem to be farther along on this investigation than we are."

Elizabeth looks over at Johnny for a moment but as he's driving and looking away from her she can merely sigh and say, "I imagine they don't want to wait for the police. I imagine they will want to find out more information. I suppose if you weren't going to arrest them, if there's no warrant yet for their arrest, we could go to a few places to look for them."

"No, there's no warrant for their arrest," says Jones. "I just want to talk to them and compare notes. If they're not going to wait for me, I'll have to catch them up. If you're thinking of the spice shop, I've already been. The place was an inferno. The fire's probably out by now, but there couldn't be anybody left alive inside. Where else might they have gone?"

"We were going to meet up somewhere," says Elizabeth. "Perhaps we should return to the station and finish up what you need to do there before going there?"

"All right, then," said Jones. "That will also give me the chance to drop off the fingerprints I collected and pick up some extra protection. Then we'll meet your friends. Scotland Yard, please, Mr. Wong."

New Scotland Yard - Victoria Embankment
9:11pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

The drive to Scotland Yard takes a little longer than before due to a few very slow cars and Wong's unfamiliarity with the local area. The fog has cleared but the streets are dark and foreboding even with all of the street lights. Elizabeth stares silently out of the window, deep in thought.

As Jones leads Elizabeth and Johnny into the building the Duty Sergeant (Meadows) calls him over. "Hello Sergeant, Inspector Barrington was recalled to the office to sort out some details on another case. He didn't know whether you would return before he left for Gavigan's country home, but said that if you arrived you should go see him in his office."

"Thank you, Sergeant Meadows," says Jones. "I'll go see him right away. Miss Downing, Mr. Wong, would you like to wait in a waiting room? We've got tea and other refreshments."

Elizabeth nods. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"You're quite welcome," says Jones, leading Elizabeth and Johnny there. "Make yourselves comfortable. I'll try not to take too long." He then heads to Inspector Barrington's office.

As Jones heads for the stairs he hears something down below. Shattering glass and a gunshot, clear as day. For a moment everyone seems to freeze. It's as though the world had become a photograph. Police officers stop mid-stride for a moment. A detective about to pass him on the stairs pauses with his thumbs slowly prising open a folder. Then in the long, drawn out moment after that instant all is movement at once. The detective tosses aside his folder. The police officers in the hall behind you run ahead toward the foyer. At least the sound was coming from the foyer and not the room where you placed Elizabeth and Johnny.

"Bloody hell!" shouts Jones as he runs towards the foyer with the constables, drawing his revolver. Good thing I have this, he thinks. I may be the one best suited to deal with this. These criminals are all too bold, attacking Scotland Yard. Do they really think they can achieve anything this way? Perhaps this is a diversion, and the real threat is coming from another direction, but I've no choice but to respond.

Jones reaches the lobby in record time with several other officers hot on his heels - most without firearms though a few have guns in hand. There seems to be no need, however. The body of a black man lies sprawled across the floor with a hole open in his back and a battered briefcase by his hand. It looks like he got shot from behind from someone in the direction of the double doors. Judging by the lack of a shooter in cuffs (the few people in the lobby all appear to be witnesses but for one ruffian informer (Jones knows hims as such) cowering in the corner in handcuffs.

Jones lowers his revolver. "What the devil happened here?" he asks.

The Desk Sergeant gives him a shocked look. "This man came walking in looking anxious and confused when the door opened a crack and there was a gunshot! He pitched over and whoever it was ran off. A couple cops gave chase. Not sure what happened then you'd have to go out there."

"Thanks," says Jones as he quickly crosses the lobby and heads for the entrance. "Maybe there's smething in the man's briefcase that will identify him and tell us why he came here - and possibly why he was shot." He takes a look outside.

There's a small group of irritated looking cops standing by the sidewalk. One of them turns to look at him and calls out, "Get the call out on a black plymouth. No license plates. Heading west off this street. We sent a couple others to go grab a car but they'll be long gone before then."

"Will do," says Jones. He ducks back inside to put out the call, putting his revolver back in its holster now that the immediate danger has passed.

Getting out of his office with a napkin tucked to his collar, Barrington shuffles down the stairs to see the commotion and Jones making a call in the foyer. "What in the seven hoards are happening?" He rips the napkin away and stuffs it away in his front pocket.

His light struck eyes finds the body on the floor. "Is he ... " Barrington reaches the landing and straightens his neck, looking at Jones to explain the ruckus.


OOC: Half a year has gone. My browser has placed my gaming sites at the bottom load order. Guess it´s time to wake up. Me and Barrington both...

"Chap was shot in the back as he walked in, guv'nor," reports Jones. "The constables outside said it was a black Plymouth, no plates, westbound. I'm getting the call out on it."

It doesn't take Jones too long to tell despatch and then he's ready to take a look at the scene. A few uniformed police officers are already getting those in the lobby to keep a wide berth from the body as well as interviewing the witnesses. Another detective has picked up the briefcase (without gloves) and unlatched it. The briefcase seems to contain a thick sheaf of files showing purchase orders and other information. "Seems to be about an Arab," says the detective mildly. "Why would anyone shoot a man in the back over that?"

"Could have something to do with the Egyptian Murders," suggests Jones, slipping on his gloves. "They've killed dozens already, so I doubt they'd hesitate at one more to keep someone from giving us evidence. Let me take a look at that." He takes the briefcase and looks carefully through the papers within it.

"Most certainly so, we are surely adding another soul to the murders." He looks at the dead informant. "Rather a far cry from the upstairs, this chap. Never the less, I was about to leave for Gavigan´s country estate when I decided to look in to the transcripts concerning our Americans. They are sent away, right?" He brushes a scones crumb from his mustache. "Why don´t you accompany me, you´re the better driver, after all? And... in case you delayed sending Ms Downing off, we´d better bring her and her servant with us. Then I can personally see that they are placed on the next ship to New York." He gives Jones a sly look.

"Ah, of course, boss," says Jones. "I'm no better a driver than you are, but I'd be glad to drive. Miss Downing and her manservant are here in one of the waiting rooms. We had been planning to arrange a meeting with their companions who were involved in the incident this evening at the Blue Pyramid. It sounds like they've uncovered some pertinent information in their own investigation of these matters - and captured one of the men involved. We may want to have that meeting first before we go visit Mr. Gavigan, so that we're armed with as much knowledge as we can be. Naturally it will be up to Miss Downing if she wishes to accompany us. Mr. Gavigan does know her, and it may not be the best idea to alert him to the fact that she has spoken to us, in case he is the author of that note."

Jones nods. "He may be carrying identification," he says as he looks through the documents. "Knowing who the man was may go a long way to unraveling the mystery."

One of the police officers riffles through the mans pockets, turning up nothing. The dead man doesn't so much as have any loose change.

The papers seem to concern Tewfik's Spice Shop, at least thus far.

"My hunch seems to be right," says Jones. "These papers pertain to Tewfik's Spice Shop - the one that mysteriously burned down this evening."

"Good, now we might know what kind of business Tewfik was up to. Against all odds-" Inside his office, he spreads the documents on his desk putting away the kettle and scones. He sorts them regarding type of document and names or symbols on signatures. If they are dated he tries to create a timeline.

The documents seem to contain a list of receipts and deliveries linking Tewfik's Spice Shop and the raided warehouse that had contained guns, ammunition, and opiates, among other things. There's a few photographs of Tewfik with the deceased killers who had attacked the British Library in the Blue Pyramid Club in Soho, grainy and poor quality photograph through the window of a fellow cutting off a man's hand with a machete in what appears to be the Soho nightclub office, a bloodstained letter to the police from someone who had been extorted by Tewfik, a list of names of known drug dealers, a description of how such dealers could purchase drugs from Tewfik who smuggled them in with his spices, and connections between Tewfik and some sort of white slavery trade. Most of the information here is circumstantial. Letters whose handwriting could be matched to some of the deceased but could also be forged. Photographs that link Tewfik to the killers but not to the killings. Still it would be enough to convict the man, especially considering the current sentiments surrounding the murders that would only intensify the following morning when that maid's death hits the newspapers. It was one thing when the killers targeted the poor and lower middle class. It was a whole other thing when something like this occured in a trusted hotel frequented by the very rich.

It will take quite a bit of time to sort through it all and construct a timeline. All night, in fact.

"There's another consideration, boss," says Jones, looking over the documents. "Miss Downing cannot return to New York, for she would be in just as great danger there. There were murders there too, possibly related to the ones here. There was an incident in which a number of coppers were killed. One reason she left New York was to get away from that. Also, if we're to go up to Gavigan's estate out in the country, it might be wise to have some backup in tow - not close enough to be seen, but close enough to hear a whistle. If Gavigan truly is the Moriarty behind all this, we don't know how much help he'll have on his home turf."

"I see." Barrington ponders. "We might scramble some bodies to accompany us in a protective detail. Must come up with a reason to have them in tow, though." He leafs through the papers on the desk. "This will take too long to get any sense to." He gets up and draws up an order for protective custody of the two Americans. Six uniforms and three cars for transport and relocation of the informants in the Egyptian killings. He signs with his name and asks Jones to second that. "Make sure the men are well equipped for the task. We don´t want to run in there with our hands up our rears and nothing to show if we meet the resistance we could, should there be any truth to the allegations." He turns at the door, looking at some of the officers outside. "And I need someone to make heads or tails out of those papers. We´re off on a trail. A relocation thing." He waves with the newly drawn order and or requisition for men and vehicles, as if they are explanation enough to what he just said.
"Jones!"

"Right away, guv'nor!" says Jones, taking the order and arranging to make everything happen.

Detective Hayes approaches Jones as he quickly hands out orders. "Superintendant Devereaux wishes to speak to you and Inspector Barrington regarding these orders. Something about where the protective custody detail will be taking the witnesses. Final destination and all that."

"Shall we talk to the witnesses first and find out where they wish to go?" Jones asks Barrington.

"Yes, we´ll have to stop by at the Super´s after that. Let´s find your witnesses shall we?" Barrington makes a chivalrous gesture at Jones for him to lead the way. To Hayes, Barrington says, "We´ll be back presently."

Elizabeth and Johnny are currently sitting in one of the waiting rooms, looking terribly bored. Well, Elizabeth looks bored. Johnny appears to be napping on his chair. When they enter, Elizabeth rises to her feet, hands clasped together nervously, while Johnny's eyes open slightly to take them in. Despite his seemingly laidback posture, he seems quite tense and ready for action.

"Miss Downing, Mr. Wong," says Jones. "Inspector Barrington and I are making progress on the case. You're going to need to make a decision about where you'd like to go." He pauses here to allow Barrington to speak.

"To put it bluntly. we need to take you to a port, to be exact Harwich. The choice you have here is to accompany us on a detour to the Naze or stay at the port awaiting departure. As the estate of one particular individual of interest lies on our way. I´d say it´s an opportunity not affordable to miss." He folds his arms and waits.

"I really couldn't leave until I've gathered up my friends," says Miss Downing. "What of my fiance, Andrei? What about my friend, Caroline and the Rukovs? I really appreciate all of your help but I do believe we're able to take responsibility for our own lives rather than being escorted to the border, so to speak. We've done well enough so far."

Wong pauses for a long moment. "Why might there be a detour through the Naze?"

"Yes, we really should find her friends, guv'nor," says Jones. "I wouldn't mind finally getting to meet them myself. We were actually talking about the possibility of setting up a meeting earlier." He turns to face Elizabeth and Johnny. "We're planning to pay a call on a certain Mr. Gavigan. We'll be going with several armed men that will stay back and out of sight unless they're needed. If you do choose to accompany us, you'd stay with the escort for your protection. It would not be a good idea for Mr. Gavigan to know that you've been talking to us."

"Right, boss," says Jones. He turns to face Elizabeth. "Miss Downing, where were you planning to meet your friends? I'll come with you."

Downing pauses for a moment before looking thoughtful. "All right, we can go there together. We were meant to meet at a particular pub at a particular time but we should be able to arrive there earlier and hopefully some of the others will have done the same." She sighs. "I must admit it would be nice to see if they are all safe."

"I hope they are all safe as well," says Jones. "All right, let's go, Miss Downing. Mr. Wong, would you care to drive again? We'll leave via the back way to avoid the reporters who are no doubt out front. I can have someone bring the car round for us."

Barrington takes his leave from the guests and Jones. "Miss Downing."
He then goes and knocks on Superintendent Devereaux´ door.

New Scotland Yard - Victoria Embankment
9:22pm - Thursday 29th January, 1925

Jones gathers up Downing and her friend and sends a constable out to fetch a car. It doesn't take long before one is brought around and they can safely get inside. There's no sign of any gunmen on the road at least. Jones is now heading to this thread.

Inspector Barrington, on the other hand, gets to visit with Superintendant Devereaux, who not only outranks him quite a bit but who is also an impatient and tough man who always has his eye on issues that may affect the precinct politically rather than 'the simple matters of the case'. When he heads into the office he can see that Superintendant Devereaux doesn't look pleased. He doesn't look pleased at all. In fact, he looks like a man backed into a corner and looking for someone else to blame.

"What the devil were you thinking?" asked Superintendant Devereaux. "Assigning people to protect a mere two individuals - and Americans at that! - while informants are being shot up at the station and their killers allowed to speed off. One constable should be good enough for protective custody and even then only if we require their testimony at trial. Have they witnessed anything that can go to trial? Are you on the edge of making an arrest? What do you think I'm to tell the media let alone those with an interest in the matter? And what the blazes is in Naze, anyhow? Not to mention, where? I truly hope you've an idea of what you're doing."