Call of Cthulhu 1890s England IC, The Yorkshire Horrors

[orchitect]

"My apologies, I was confused. Mr. Granding, I assume we can contact you at your headquarters. I'd hate to make you late for your train, but I have one question before you leave. You mentioned "'political strings."' Who has Mr. Bell strung like a puppet?"

[Xsesiv]

"Nobody does, misunderstandings. I really have to go, seriously."

[orchitect]

"Fine. Well, best not be late when crime is involved."

William takes a mental note of Granding's quick response and his urge to leave immediately. Filing it away in his head he turns to Mycroft Manor and takes it all in. "I think," he starts, "I'm going to check out the greenhouse. Don't want anyone disturbing any hidden evidence when they discover we're here."

[Xsesiv]

"Oh, no ye don't," pipes up Graves. "You c'n come and meet t' master. No bargin' straight inte the greenhouse. No way in from t'outside, any'ow. Door only opens from t'inside."

He leads you up to the big front doors, which are opened by a smartly dressed but gaunt butler with a line of gray hair around his bald pate. "I am Mr. Jevers, Mr. Bell's man." he informs you. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me to his study, you may meet him."

[orchitect]

Suspicious, thinks William as he follows Jevers into the manor.

[littlebottom]

"my word, we will see mr. bell personally? this i had not realised, i thought he was not to be coming to the place due to annother case?"

[Xsesiv]

Graves smites his forehead with a meaty palm. "Mr. Bell. Not Dr. Bell."

Sherrinford Bell's study, which you are led to by Mr. Jevers, reveals his interests; shotguns hang on the wall, along with trophies-of-the-hunt. A wall is covered in books, mostly on nature and sport, but with some contemporary and classic novels and chess books, and a fireplace, and a tantalus and a gasogene on top of a large and well-stocked liquor cabinet (which Robert eyes longingly) all give a feeling of warmth to the room.

Sherrinford himself soon enters. He is a large and hardy man, jovial- and good-natured-looking.

(Psychology rolls please)

Robert's: (d100)[81]

Sherrinford looks quite relieved to see you, telling you the telegram he got from Seabury was the first good news since the murder. He offers you each a large glass of brandy (Robert eagerly accepts) and bids you sit down.

[littlebottom]

Reverand inspects the shotguns till asked to sit down

(d100)[80]

[Xsesiv]

"I now realise," starts Sherrinford, "that it all started about three months ago when Fischbein - that's the dead man - came to work for me. He was weasel-like and secretive. Wouldn't look you in the eyes, not that you'd want him to anyway; his eyes were big, watery, glassy things. Anyway, I'd not have hired him if Stark hadn't vouched for him. Stark hasn't steered me wrong in all the time he's worked for me - Stark's my chief hired man, after Graves and Mr. Jevers; in charge of all the hired men under Graves.
"Anyway, Stark said he'd known Fischbein back in his Navy days, said that the man was a good, honest worker, but down on his luck and really needed a position, so I gave the fellow a go. Hate to see an honest man willing to work go without any, no matter what I think of him personally. If he was good enough for Stark, I thought, I'd give him a chance."
Sherrinford shakes his head and looks thoughtful.
"Well, no man's a perfect judge of character, I suppose. Whatever Fischbein was like when Stark knew him before, he'd changed. I should have listened to Graves. He warned me there was something queer about Fischbein. He warned me. All the time he was, going after the bottle, as though it was what kept him alive. Don't take me wrongly, I'm not opposed to strong drink myself, but when a man drinks it like a fish...well, Fischbein more than lived up to his name. Then I learned from Graves that Fischbein had been shirking on the job. The others were covering up for him. I had words with Stark about that, and he told me Fischbein had been having trouble with an old injury. It pained Fischbein, which was why he drank so heavily, and Stark and the others covered up for him when he hurt so badly that he couldn't work. I felt quite badly myself, really, when I learnt of the poor fellow's infirmity. I'd noticed he seemed to be walking more awkwardly, in a way, than when he first came to the manor. All hunched over, he was. I told Graves to ease up till Fischbein was feeling better.
"Humph, well, I guess he felt better soon enough to start walking out with Lucinda, my maid, a Cornish girl who's been with me for some years now. He'd often accosted the poor girl, and long before it came to my notice. She finally confided in Mrs. Hooper, the cook - been like a mother to the poor girl since Lucinda came to live here - and Mrs. Hooper reported it to me. I went straight to the servant's quarters and told Fischbein, in no uncertain terms, that if he didn't leave the girl alone, not only would I professionally throw him the sack, but it would become a personal issue and I'd give him a sound thrashing as well. And he just stared at me - first time he'd ever, ever looked me in the eye - with those horrible, glassy bug-eyes. Quite unnerving really. I was infuriated. I was on the point of attacking the man when Stark stepped in. He assured me that it wouldn't happen again. He'd see to it. I knew Stark was a man of his word, so I let the matter go. I wish now I'd dismissed old Fischbein on the spot."
Sherrinford heaves a sigh at the very thought.
"Stark came to me the next day, said Fischbein was quite, quite sorry about last night. Very apologetic, in fact. Stark said Fischbein had been taking medicine for his pain, and his mind wasn't too clear, which is why he just stared at me. He'd have come to see me himself, but he was feeling too ashamed. I told him I understood, but that I'd meant what I said and said what I meant about Fischbein staying away from Lucinda. Stark was wholeheartedly agreeing with me, and I thought the matter ended there. I thought Stark could keep Fischbein in line, three stone and six inches he had on the man! But I suppose even Stark can't be everywhere at once, and what Fischbein lacked in build he made up for in audacity.
"It was only a few days later, would you believe, when I was coming back from a ride, when I had to deal with Fischbein myself. Graves was taking my horse when we heard a scream. I leapt back onto the horse and dashed off in the direction of the scream, Graves was panting on my heels. There, just outside the servant's wing, was Fischbein, his filthy, German paws all over Lucinda. Right then and there, it was, when I saw red. I jumped off the horse, grabbed the man by the shoulders, hurled him to the ground, and gave him a good thrashing with my riding-crop. I don't know what came over me, really, it's not in the family to get so emotional. Not that the fellow didn't need a whipping, but, as I beat him, I got carried away. Quite idiotic really. I should have kept my head.
"Graves stopped me, God bless him. I was there, shaking with fury, I looked around, and suddenly noticed all the hired men were standing around watching. Stark, too. They had a funny look - no wonder, though, as they'd never seen me in such a state. And Fischbein - there he was...on the ground - he just stared at me. As though nothing had happened, he stared at me. I kicked him once more, shook my fist, and shouted at him to be gone before nightfall. Then, with them all watching me, I went into the house, trying to calm down, and had Mr. Jevers prepare my bath.
"I felt a little better come evening. We had curried mutton for supper, my favourite dish. Must get Mrs. Hooper to make some for you sometime. You like curry, don't you? Of course you do. Then Stark came to talk with me about Fischbein, trying to get me to reconsider, but I was adamant. Then he asked me to at least let Fischbein stay the night, if he left first thing in the morning. He said it wasn't good for a man in Fischbein's condition having to go out on an open road at night, and I surely didn't want it on my conscience if the poor man took sick and died, would I? I tell you, for an uneducated man, Stark is most persuasive. I agreed, but without thinking, I told him if Stark wasn't gone by nine the next morning, I would personally kill him. Bit of hyperbole that. About killing him, I mean. Quite a foolish thing to say. Goes to show how Mulcaster and Seabury got all the brains in our family.
"After dinner I felt rather drowsy. I went to my study, to read one of Clark Russel's exciting sea stories, but instead, I seem to have fallen asleep. The next thing I remember is a scream, which woke me up, and there I stood, looking down on Fischbein's corpse. He was all cut-up and bloodied, and a fighting-knife - a dirk - with quite an odd handle stuck out of his chest. Lucinda was stood outside the door to her room, screaming and screaming. I realised suddenly I was in the servant's wing, in the hall outside the hired men's room. Blood was splashed all over me.
"Everyone else in the house seemed to appear at once, all in their nightclothes, looking at me standing there over the body of Fischbein, accusation in their eyes (well, not Mr. Jevers or Lucinda, or Mrs Hooper, of course, or Graves - even he'd heard the commotion and come running). But the ordinary hired men all stared at me as if I'd killed Fischbein. And Stark just stood and shook his head, saying "You shouldn't 'ave done it, sire, you shouldn't 'ave done it, 'e war'n't worth it, you shouldn't 'ave done it, 'onest, sire, he war'n't ."
"Well, I sent Graves for the constable. Had to, no matter how it looked; after all, a man was dead. Murdered. Even if he wasn't much of a man. Culverton came out with Dr. Sacker from Northallerton to tend to the corpse and question everyone. Of course they all told him about the...incident the afternoon before, and Stark told the constable the truth, about what I'd said about killing Fischbein. Not that I blame Stark of course, he's an honest man, had to tell the truth, and there I stood, gawking, with Fischbein's blood all over me. So, I was arrested, I was taken to the gaol, for the first time in my life. Quite a nightmare, honestly. Culverton didn't want to do it. He's a good man himself. We've each known the other for years...So there I was, like some common criminal, locked up in a cell. If it wasn't for my brothers' intervention, I'd be there yet. And I'll be there again, unless you gentlemen can prove I didn't do it. If I didn't do it."
Sherrinford's voice trails off and he shakes his head.

[orchitect]

William soaks up the grandeur of the study. What a catch, he thinks to himself.

"If you get out of this mess, Mr. Bell, we'll have to spend some time on a safari. A man's talents are always best revealed in the wild." He flashes Mr. Bell a grin.

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psychology = 55
(1d100)[18]

After listening to Mr. Bell's story the first thing that William asks is, "Do you remember what you dreamt that night? The night you killed Fischbein, did you dream of anything unusual?"

[littlebottom]

*cough* "i dont think, killed is the correct term is it mr.bell? you didnt kill anybody and thats why we are here after all." Reverand gives william a look that says "be more carefull what you say"

[Xsesiv]

William can see that Sherrinford is deeply troubled below his exterior.

"It's funny, I can't remember dreaming of anything...strange, I normally get the queerest dreams. And no, I don't believe I killed him."

[littlebottom]

"its going to be hard to prove your innocence, but im sure its possible, we just must find the real murderer right away!"

Reverand afraid that this man may well be the murderer, even if he doesnt remember it, or maybe his lying, but the evidence is surly pointing straight at him.... maybe too straight.

[orchitect]

"You've mentioned quite a few... queer, things. The handle of the knife for instance. Do you remember what that looked like?"

[Xsesiv]

"Not distinctly, but if you know what I mean, it simply seemed wrong. It's down at the constabulary if you want to take a look yourself."

[orchitect]

"Why yes, I shall, just as soon as I leave my things in my room. We are staying here, are we not? We're supposed to be helping you, Mr. Bell; its probably best if we're- close to you."

[Xsesiv]

"Yes indeed. I'll have Mr. Jevers show you to your rooms."

The butler Mr. Jevers takes you along to two guest bedrooms, before apologetically explaining that there are only two, so two people will have to pair up.

[orchitect]

Along the way to the rooms William looks for any way to get to the green house. When they finally reach the rooms he says, "Well, Reverend, you and Robert already appear to be best friends. Perhaps you two should room together."

[Xsesiv]

"I don't mind doubling up with you, James, what about you?"

The greenhouse is only reachable through the study. As you leave your things in your rooms, Sherrinford Bell enters and hands you a map of the manor. "That thing doesn't detail the basement, or the attic, but I'm sure you'll get by."

The Map.

As he leaves, he makes one last plea to you to find the truth. "If I'm a murderer, I want to know so." he says. "But if not, you're my main hope. Granding just wants to see me convicted."

Mr. Jevers, looking with apprehension at the cricket-bat in Robert's hand, solemnly informs you that an evening meal is served at 7 p.m. every night, and that you are all expected to attend. For today, that's in four hours. "However, no formal breakfast or luncheon is served, as Mr. Bell takes his breakfast in his room, and he is irregular in taking a midday meal. For these meals, you will have to see Mrs. Hooper about feeding you something in the kitchen." He then sweeps out after his master, leaving you to deliberate a course of action.

[littlebottom]

"i feel, that it would be in our best intrests to get started right away! i think we need to see that daggers handle and we need to check the green house first off."

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but dont we have dan trying to join? can you make an apropreate moment for him?

[Xsesiv]

Spoiler

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He's going to arrive next morning with an explanation from Dr. Bell.

"So, we will visit the greenhouse, then the constabulary?"

[littlebottom]

"definately the green house, we dont want anybody messing with it anymore between now and when we look at it."

[orchitect]

Stepping out of his room, and wearing much more dashing dinner attire, William says, "Yes, the greenhouse should be our first stop." He spins his pistol and places it in his hip holster. "Sorry Reverend, didn't mean to steal the show."

Grinning he heads in the direction of the greenhouse.

[Xsesiv]

The greenhouse is full of plants, mostly native to England or southern France, with a few exotics here too.

Sherrinford is sitting in a rocking chair in his greenhouse with a glass of brandy when you arrive. "Hello, come to search? Or you have something to ask me?"

[orchitect]

((I'm going with a .41 Revolver.))

"Ah, Sherrinford, come here often?" William looks at the floor for footprints that look older than today, slightly covered by dirt or dust, and not fresh.

[Xsesiv]

There are no footprints at all, as the ground is made of damp, compressed earth. "Ah yes, I come here in the winter months. Every day from October till April. Call it what you will, but I think it's very healthy to be close to nature."

[littlebottom]

"no offence sir, but i call that boring... although my life isnt often adventurous, i still have to make house calls and every day is different, it changes the body and the mind, just like our lord wants us to."

[orchitect]

"Reverend, surely Mr. Bell here gets out pleny. The trophies, did you see them? Mr. Bell, you have been to the dark continent have you not?"

[Xsesiv]

Sherrinford brightens. "Yes! Lovely place, parts of it. Parts were terrible. Apart from my shooting escapades, and a bit of boating...well, a country squire doesn't have many responsibilities, does he really, Father? My brothers have had very adventurous lives, but somebody had to look after the house when our father died. And I had the misfortune to be born first. Well, I'll leave you to search if you like. I'm off to see what's being served for dinner." He wanders off. Mr. Jevers enters, plumps the cushion he was sitting on and follows him.

[orchitect]

"Terrible parts, huh? I'd like to here about them sometime, if you care to share of course, Mr. Bell. Tonight maybe?"

After he has left I look on the leaves for signs of blood, and on the ground. Puddles of water could form in footprints. So could puddles of blood. I also inspect for softer parts of the ground where it looks like its been recently dug up.