IC: Chapter 1 - NEW YORK, Starts 12th Jan 1925

[imme]

While Maksim is busy flirting with the librarian, Elizabeth glances at Caroline and Andrei. Well, I guess we know where we will head next.

Is she in danger? I sure hope not. The thought of another person pulled into this dangerous mess made her feel sick.

[Decrepit]

Caroline can rather imagine what Beth is thinking at the moment. In any case, perhaps a trip to England would be a good form of escape at the moment.

[Raiko]

Widener Library - Harvard University - Cambridge, Massachusetts
03:23pm - Sunday 18th January, 1925

Miriam takes a half step backwards, subtly avoiding Maksim's touch, she does manage a sad smile though.

"You are a kind man Mr Kruglov, but there is little that you can do to ease my grief," she wipes away her tears, "or my fears."

"Please warn Nethaniel, and I do hope that you find those who are responsible..."


06:30pm - Sunday 18th January, 1925

The rest of the afternoon passes by slowly, as Miss Atwright and some of the investigators search methodically through the Widener Library's many miles of bookshelves for more information about the mysterious cults

Nobody finds any further reference to the mysterious Egyptian cult that are rumoured to have preceded the East African cult of The Bloody Tongue, neither does there appear to be any information regarding The Mountain of the Black Wind, though Miriam comments that, "Perhaps it's just a local name, in which case it may be undocumented."

Maksim and Caroline uncover old newspaper articles, containing some details of previous 'voodoo murders,' but as Lt. Poole had already suggested there does not appear to be any way the nine victims could be linked. Two victims were from Harlem, but the others were from all across the city, indeed one - a Chicago Lawyer - was only visiting New York.

Elizabeth and Andrei search in vain for information about the 'Cult of Darkness' until Elizabeth remembers that Professor Cowes told Johnny that the cult worshipped a god called The Sand Bat. They then learn that in aboriginal folklore the Sand Bat is said be a mighty foe of the nature god Rainbow Snake, erupting like a sandstorm from a great cave in the sky. In the Gadudjara language the black shape is known as Hungry Wing, while further east, the Bindubi know of the entity as Foe Eater.

[imme]

Elizabeth looks up at the old clock on the wall. My, but it's gotten late. She had been completely absorbed in reading about these strange cults, somehow comforted by the normality of losing herself in an interesting book. Things written in books were somehow distanced from the reader, and she didn't have to remember that there actually were cultists like these, and that they were out to get her.

Her stomach reminds her that lunch was a long time ago. She sighs. "Shall we call it a day and see if Johnny is at the hotel waiting for us?"

[Raiko]

Parker House Hotel - Boston, Massachusetts
03:23pm - Sunday 18th January, 1925

Returning to their hotel the investigators find that Johnny still hasn't appeared.

However when she enquires at the reception desk Elizabeth learns that he has been in contact.

"Yes Miss Downing, Mr Wong called this afternoon, he said to tell you that he's taken a circuitous route but I will be joining you in about twenty-four hours. Do you have another message it Mr Wong calls again?" The young receptionist is smiling mischievously, she is clearly enjoying speculating about the nature of these clandestine messages.

[Raiko]

Parker House Hotel - Boston, Massachusetts
03:05pm - Monday 19th January, 1925

Everybody gets a relatively nightmare-free night's sleep, and wakes up refreshed on Monday morning. The snow has stopped completely and it's a chilly, but sunny day.

Thomas calls in the morning to say that he will be travelling to view Dr Huston's records of his interviews with Roger Carlyle today.

Under the circumstances Erica suggested to him that he and Timour remain at Carlyle House until Timour has recovered. She has arranged for appropriate medical staff to attend her house and provide care. Although he obviously doesn’t entirely trust Miss Carlyle, Thomas is at a loss to think of a better arrangement; after all if she were in league with the cultists Erica could easily have had them all killed last Friday.

Timour's condition is extremely unusual, physically he is fine, his motor actions are ok, he can even be fed, etc without too much difficulty, but other than that he is totally unresponsive to everyone around him.

Enquiring at the hotel about Ocean Liners to England in the next week or two, Elizabeth learns that White Star's Leyland Line operate a weekly Wednesday sailing direct to Liverpool, this weeks vessel is the SS Devonian, the SS Winifredian sails next Wednesday.

Cunnard Line operate an irregular service from Boston to Liverpool, via Cobh, Ireland (called Queenstown until Ireland's independence in 1922). The SS Scythia departs on Sunday morning, but the next Cunnard sailing after that isn't until March.

No other companies currently operate transatlantic routes between Boston and Great Britain; increasingly strong immigration restrictions over the last decade have seriously reduced transatlantic traffic, causing all lines to concentrate on their New York services and on 'Prohibition Busting' cruises up and down the Eastern Seaboard.

At five past three in the afternoon, as you all sit down in the comfortable lobby to plan what to do next, a taxi pulls up outside and you all see Johnny Wong as he walks in through the hotel entrance.

[Decrepit]

Caroline starts as she sees Johnny come in. It feels like it's been forever since she's seen him, and she finds his being alive both surprising and reassuring. Maybe we can make it through this, she thinks.

[Grafster]

Johnny looks haggard as he makes his way into the lobby but he smiles genuinely when he catches sight of the group sitting in the lobby. He makes his way over slowly over, making ample use of his cane, and drops a large battered bag on the ground.

Up close you can see his suit is a mass of wrinkles and his eyes are bloodshot, probably from fatigue.

He'll slide into a seat at the earliest opportunity.

[Decrepit]

"Are you all right?" Caroline asks. "I mean, are you hurt? Is there anything I can do?"

[imme]

"Yes, Johnny, are you okay?"

Elizabeth is concerned by his appearance, but much more relieved by the fact that he's finally here. She's learned to rely on him over the years.

[Grafster]

Johnny rubs his face. He smiles uncharacteristically broadly.
"I am fine. All things considered I'm in exceptionally good health."

He leans forward intently, looking from face to face. "I have had a good time to think during my sojourn..." he pitches his voice lower "and I am extremely curious as to how you found out what happened at the Juju House. It seems you," he looks at Miss Downing, "knew of the results of the police action... well... how did you know?"

[Maksim Rukov]

Maksim arches an eyebrow and glares at the others for their heart-felt expressions of concern, his upper lip turning in a sneer of contempt. His brother in a bed, practically dead, and not so much as the merest sign of compassion from any one of the toffs here. He slaps his hand against his thigh, hard and loud, and feigns a smile. "Yeah, huh." He rubs his chin, then moves forward to clasp Johnny on the shoulder, leaning in a little to show a more genuine look of concern - Johnny wasn't in his bad books, yet - "Good to see you." Then he heads straight for his hotel room.

[imme]

Elizabeth looks a little startled at Johnny's question. "I, well, I dreamt of it." She looks at the others sheepishly. "I think I am not the only one?"

"Please, Johnny do tell us what you know. Unless you would rather we went somewhere more private?" She looks around the lobby, trying to gauge how easily they might be overheard.

[Grafster]

Maksim moves forward to clasp Johnny on the shoulder, leaning in a little to show genuine look of concern "Good to see you."

The detective nods and smiles at Maksim. "Likewise."
He watches as the Russian leaves the room but is quickly pulled back into the conversation.

"Please, Johnny do tell us what you know. Unless you would rather we went somewhere more private?"

Johnny leans forward. His bloodshot eyes intent.
"You dreampt it? Dreamed about it I should say? Correctly? With specific details?"
Johnny rubs his face, leans back and stares directly up at the ceiling for a while. He doesn't seem to notice when his hat falls off his head and onto the floor behind his seat.
At length he leans forward and returns to the conversation.

"It sounds as if you have gathered the most salient pieces of information already. So I will summarize what I experienced last night, or, rather..." he closes his eyes for a minute struggling with something. "rather... the night of the 16th, which was a Friday. So three nights ago." He nods to himself.

"I followed the plan we'd agreed upon on Friday evening before seperating. As far as I am aware of I was not noticed by anyone at any point. I arrived surveyed the scene via taxi, approached and entered the pawnshop."

"From the second floor rear window I was able to observe the courtyard in front of this 'Juju House'." Johnny seems to shiver slightly. "There were a group of members of this, whatever-it-is-we're-dealing-with, out front, pretending to be derelicts. There true nature was revealed when another group brought someone, who I believe to be Thomas' late acquaintance, to the house. The person was bound and their head was in a sack. However their dress and general appearance support the notion that they were a white male professional who had been in captivity for at least a day."

"I confess to thinking seriously about trying to go in after him, but the police arrived shortly thereafter, in the persons of Detective Poole and a squad of flatfoots. I confess to no small measure of glee at that moment. It seemed that everything was about to cleanly wrapped up."

"Needless to say I could not have been more wrong. One of the derelicts had managed to make it into the House, I expect they were warning the... ah... ceremony participants about the approaching police.

"Did I mention the noise? There was noise. It started earlier, chanting, horrible chanting. Terribly distracting."

Johnny pauses for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh yes. And the screaming. There was screaming before Poole got there. Even more unpleasant than the chanting."

"So what with the screaming and all Poole went directly for the door. Left two men at the entrance. About a minute later they interrupted the ceremony. Or tried to. Lacking evidence to the contrary it would appear that after the police uninterrupted them, the celebrants paused to deal with them. The chanting stopped. There was an inexplicable sound. Poole screamed. I really can't be sure though. That it was him I mean. There was definitely a scream after the sound. And then there was gunfire. Perhaps three shotgun blasts. Two pistol retorts. And then the ceremony was resumed."

"The volume and tenor of the screaming suggested that several of the police who had been with Poole were still alive at this point. Fulfilling the same role perhaps as Mick."

"Naturally the men stationed above ground made some effort to assist, but a horde of cultists boiled out of the house. They were caught between the derelicts and the horde and torn apart." Johnny looks as though he's going to say something else, looks around at the faces, waves his hand vaguely and subsides into silence.

[Decrepit]

Caroline blanches. Johnny's story only tells her what she already knew, but it was nonetheless chilling to hear it all repeated. "Thank God you weren't found out," she says finally.

[imme]

Elizabeth is as pale as Caroline. "Yes, indeed." After a pause she says, "We're going to leave this country."

[Grafster]

Johnny nods and waits.

After a minute he begins again, his voice is even and organized and he ticks things off on his fingers as he says them.

"The ceremony lasted for some time. Poole was brought out of the house alive after they finished and taken to a car. The whole procedure was being overseen by a large negro man. They departed in three cars. I followed in a Taxi for a while but eventually gave up pursuit. I don't think that they knew I was observed the," Johnny stops ticking with his fingers and looks up, waving his hand vaguely "... the massacre."

He the detective begins ticking again, "There were really no other cars on the street. Following them further would probably have tipped them off. With several cars they could easily have split up and intercepted me while taking Poole off somewhere. They were apparently traveling a good distance."

Staring at his hands he flicks each as he emphasizes each point. "At the time I was firmly convinced that I was the only observer of a massacre; it seemed imprudent to give away too much. Particularly since Poole will probably tell them that, "
Johnny holds up a thumb, "I called him to tell him about Juju House"
Johnny opens his forefinger, "I work for you"
Johnny opens his middlefinger, "I told him I was doing it on behalf of Thomas"
Johnny holds up his ringfinger, "I lied about something when I did it, specifically that he'd seen Micks glasses in their shop"
Johnny opens his hand fully "and anything else they want to hear."

The Chinese man slides his hand through his hair and continues in the same even staccato tone.

"There were two Negroes casing out the apartment when I returned later that morning. I think I avoided being seen by them when I entered. We spoke on the phone. I left and made sure they saw me following. I made sure to have a woman's scarf hanging out of my bag. They followed me to Grand Central and made a phone call. I assume a report."

"I took a train to Chicago. They followed me, and rode in the same car. I led them to Chinatown there, lost them, backtracked to a different train station and got on a train here. My hope is that they will think that I am rendezvousing with you in Chicago."

"I confess to being a bit surprised at their willingness to get on a train and just follow someone across the country. Though why that, of all things, surprises me I can not explain."

[imme]

"Johnny, that was brilliant. Maybe we can even make it to London and they'll have no idea." The horror of his story is becoming all too familiar, but the fact that these cultists can be tricked gives Elizabeth a little hope.


Elizabeth insists on a private compartment on the train for their party (assuming one is available), and encourages Johnny to get some sleep.

[Raiko]

Boston and Maine Railroad Depot - West High Lane, Arkham, Massachusetts
05:05pm - Monday 19th January, 1925

The first train calling at Arkham departs from Boston's South Station precisely on time at 16:20. The journey through the idyllic snow covered Massachusette landscape takes only three quarters of an hour, and the shadows lengthen throughout.

By the time the train crosses the Miskatonic River and pulls into Arkham's small railway station, the sun has set and the last traces of twilight are rapidly vanishing from the sky.

[Grafster]

The sounds of passengers wakes Johnny from where he has been curled up on the top bunk. If he's aware of how pungent he's become from three days of straight traveling he gives no sign. He mechanically checks the pistol he caries with him, spinning the cartrage idly for a moment before snapping it closed and returning the gun to his pocket.

As the group disembarks from the train into the cold night air he suggests "Perhaps we should insure lodging for the evening? We might be able to call ahead before we pay a visit to the professor as well."

After an extremely short pause he shambles off inquiring of a nearby, randomly selected, passerby of "directions to a decent lodging place" as if everyone had heartily agreed.