A case for Scotland Yard


Okay, I hope I have everything covered but if not please send me a PM and I will get back to you.

This will be a dark Victorian setting with an element of the supernatural. However please note that the supernatural is still very rare and generally dismissed as superstition by the majority of people.

Character creation is going to be very simple and hopefully easy to follow.
Each character is either a Detective in Scotland Yard or a Consultant. You are all on DI Filps' team though the length of time that this has been the case is entirely up to you.

Character Sheet;

Nationality- (Non-commonwealth did suffer some social stigma at the time)
Social Class- (lower, middle or upper. Detectives will generally be middle class)

Attributes; (Pick 2 attributes to excel in, 1 to be weak in and 3 to be average)

Physical (strength and toughness)
Nimble (manual dexterity and agility)
Wit (speed of thought and charm)
Knowledge (intelligence and reasoning)
Faith (belief and dedication)
Contacts (who you know) - specify one group such as 'social elite' or 'street urchins'

Skills; (Pick 5 skills in which your character is particularly adept)

animal handling
area knowledge (specify area)
art critic
boxing / brawling
drive (Automobiles)
first aid
general science
general medicine
lip reading
lockpicking / locksmith
melee weapon
military operations / military science
move silently / hiding
occult lore
police procedure
thrown weapon

If I have missed a skill off which you would like please just suggest it.


Name- Joshua Filps
Age- 43
Gender- Male
Proffesion- DI
Nationality- English
Social Class- Middle
Appearance- He is a portly man in his 40's with balding ginger hair, healthy sideburns and a thick moustache.
Bio- Head of a division. Worked his way up from uniforms. (Not much entered here due to being an example)

Physical - average
Nimble - weak
Wit - excel
Knowledge - average
Faith - excel
Contacts - average (police supervision)

Police procedure


It is January 3rd 1890 and in the city of London the streets are white with snow. It has been a particularly harsh winter with temperatures well below freezing and snow showers that have lasted days.

Of course the weather doesn't stop crime and for the Detectives of Scotland Yard business is as hectic as ever. Murders, high value thefts and even the odd gang war have all came in as a steady flow. More than ever the Detectives have been relying on their 'consultants' to pick up the slack. Detective Inspector Joshua Filps is no exception and with a high profile case landing on his desk that very morning he is eager to bring his team into action before it becomes public news.

The time is 09:30 and in a small briefing room in the bowels of Scotland Yard DI Filps is pacing anxiously while he waits for his team to arrive.

He is a portly man in his 40's with balding ginger hair, healthy sideburns and a thick moustache. He was rarely a patient man but this morning he looked more flustered than usual. He had even forgot to wear his suit jacket and had no idea where his tie had vanished to.

His pocket watch ticked around to 09:31 and he huffed to himself. Sure he had said ten to the message runners but didn't people realise that this was serious?


Name- Detective Inspector Albert Worthington-Smythe
Age- 42
Gender- Male
Profession- Detective
Nationality- English
Social Class- Upper
Appearance- Tall, with short, grey hair and a grey handlebar moustache, he wears a smart black suit and black top hat. He has a stern face and is an imposing figure, he carries a mahogany cane topped off with a metal ball, a gold pockech chain hangs out of his pocket, he wears black gloves on his hands.
Bio- Son of Lord Henry Worthington-Smythe, Albert grew up with aspirations of becoming the head of the shiny new Police.
However this was not to be, at 18 he left school and thanks to his social status joined the Police force as a Detective, Albert solved a few cases in his time, but has never risen above the post of DI, on account of his pride and attitude, which have resulted in him not solving many a case. Whilst not being physically powerful, when he overcomes his pride, Albert has a high intellect.
Albert is a sceptic when it comes to regarding the supernatural, preferring to qualm any stories he hears.

Attributes; (Pick 2 attributes to excel in, 1 to be weak in and 3 to be average)

Physical weak
Nimble average
Wit average
Knowledge excel
Faith average
Contacts excel (The Old Boy Network)

Skills; (Pick 5 skills in which your character is particularly adept)


DI Albert Worthington Smythe walked down the wood panelled hallway, his steps echoing down the hall, the butler silently followed behind him.
DI Flips had summoned him to a meeting, the absurdity of it! Who did Flips think he was? Some damned middle class bounder, that's who Flip was, he'd give the man a lesson. If he thought he could order Albert Worthington-Smythe around, then he was wrong.
Albert stopped in front of the wooden door, which the butler promptly opened.
Bowing, the butler closed the door behind him as Albert stepped through.
Flips was pacing across the carpet, looking at his pockech and huffing.
"Flips?" Albert began, his stern, posh, accent cutting through the silence. "What is the meaning of this convocation?"


"Flips?" Albert began, his stern, posh, accent cutting through the silence. "What is the meaning of this convocation?"
'Oh. It's you' Filps replied, only barely managing to hide the disappointment that Albert had been the first to arrive. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the man, just that he found his company to be fairly hard work. Still he had more to worry about than some pompous colleague with a chip on his shoulder so he tried to remain polite. 'I apologise for any inconvenience I might be causing you but the Superintendent asked me to gather a team for a rather important case. I can share some details now if you wish but I think it would be better to wait for the others. What do you say?’


"I find it preposterous that you consider that information be withheld from me Flips." Said Albert coldly. "I demand to be informed of the relevant subject immediately."
The impetus of this commoner, did he think that Albert would gladly bow down before him?
As he waited for Flips to reply, Albert's black gloved hand moved towards his pocket, he pulled out his pockech and opened it. approximately twenty six minutes to ten.


Filps sighed audibly. He really didn’t have the inclination or patience to argue about this. He was currently ordered as office bound which probably meant that the other DI would be heading the investigation in the field. He silently cursed the Superintendant for both the case and the inclusion of Albert.
‘Very well. It is a missing person’s case. A papal prince who is on business in this country and has vanished as of yesterday evening. As I am sure you can appreciate, our superiors want this settling quickly and quietly. There is a great deal of pressure on them from many powerful individuals. Now shall I continue or will you allow me the benefit of only explaining once. I haven’t slept a great deal and my throat is as rough as a grey hounds paw.’


Name- James Esay
Age- 25
Gender- Male
Profession- Ex-conman/Free-lance
Nationality- Welsh
Social Class- Lower/Middle
Appearance- Tall with short jet black hair James is the sort of man you could bump into in the street and forget all about, that is what made him such a good thief. He wears suit clothing so as that he can pass off with the elite however he changes him clothing for every occasion. He always carries with him a dagger that he can draw at any time and stab someone with, also if he is expecting trouble he will carry two double shot pistols with him which he will have always pre-loaded. James is quite strong and in a fight is extremely proficient.

Bio- James was found wrapped in a bundle outside a local police station where he was sent to the local orphanage. However around the age of seven James meet a pickpocket and he ran away from the orphanage to join the pickpocket's gang. He spent the rest of his childhood learning the tricks of the trade until he was one of the best in Wales whereupon he moved to London hoping for more riches, after several months in london he turned his hand to thievery and started a good life from doing that. With the amount of money he made he managed to earn himself a place in the middle class whereupon he eventually came to the attention of the police, he got sloppy and they followed the clues and within two months he was locked up for a long time in the local prison, Esay came out of the prison a changed man, he reformed and whilst looking for work stumbled across a murder. Then, through using various contacts and stealing the necessary information, he solved the case helping put the criminal away in court by anonymously donating the information to the police. After that he began work as a freelance detective, he was contacted about the current case several days ago and given the time to meet at the house. With his interest piqued his is going to see what this is all about.

Attributes; (Pick 2 attributes to excel in, 1 to be weak in and 3 to be average)

Physical: Excel
Nimble: Excel
Wit: Average
Knowledge: Average
Faith: Weak
Contacts: Average, Theives and other common criminals although he does know several high class crooks, e.g. assassins.

Skills; (Pick 5 skills in which your character is particularly adept)

melee weapons
moving silently/hiding (didn't see this as an option the first time round.)


Esay walked down the street checking for a tail, so far no-one. That was good. He reached the door and knocked on it. The butler answered and asked who he was "James Esay" James replied "I'm here as I was invited concerning a case." Esay had never worked with Filps before and there wasn't much of a reputation concerning the man, just your average bobby who had stuck it out and reached the top. James followed the butler down the hall and having arrived saw that there was were two men, one upper class man and a middle class man, James assumed that the middle class man was Filps. "I was invited here about a case, my name is James Esay. What needs doing?" James spoke with the blunt forward manner that had gotten him far in life, if he needed to he could be eloquent however he preferred to be blunt. He stood there and awaited a reply
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espionage (OOC: not exactly sure what this entails so if you would be so kind as to explain I'll decide whether to leave it in or change it for something else)
(OOC: Probably not what you were intending but it's more political / business based spycraft. I am guessing you would be more after something along the lines of filching (general thievery))


"What needs doing?" asked the newcomer. There was no dancing around or pompous airs. It might have just been the fact that Filps had a distinct distaste for DI Worthington-Smythe but he immediatly liked this Esay chap. He seemed much more ammeanable to his current mood.

'Good evening Mr Esay. I am glad you could join us. Please have a seat.' Filps looked at his pocket watch again. He would give it a few more minutes and then he would have to begin. Any others who arrived late would just have to catch up out in the field. At least out there they would be Albert's problem.

'Tea gentlemen?' asked the butler carrying a silver tray.


Esay pulled up a chair and sat down. The chairs were nice and soft and comfortable, a slightly upper-class feel that he knew from when he had visited clients homes. "Tea gentlemen?" the butler asked
"No thank you." James replied. He didn't really drink tea or coffee. A good decent beer would do him any day however if it was a special client he usually would accept the offer to be polite.


Albert looked disdainfully at the newcomer. the man was wearing a cheap suit, obviously trying to hide the fact that he was working class.
"Tea gentlemen?" Asked the butler.
The newcomer declined, Albert turned to the butler. "Yes thank you." The butler placed the tray down on DI Flips' desk.
"Tell me Flips, do you normally associate yourself with common folk?" Albert made no attempt to hide his disdain as he gestured towards Esay.


"Tell me Flips, do you normally associate yourself with common folk?" Albert asked.

Filps smiled and took a sip of tea. 'Oh my dear colleague. We get no where in this world if we cannot walk in all of its aspects. Of course if you feel you would be capable of dealing with the local slum lords and lower rung snitches without assistance, please invite me along. I would be most entertained to see the outcome.'

Filps took a second sip and then his smile dropped. 'If you dislike the team, please explain why you backed out to the Chief, I'm sure he will understand.'


Esay's smile vanished as Albert spoke Oh great. he thought just my luck to get stuck working with some upper class snob he had had to work for several before and they were extremely tiresome to work for, extremely demanding and no concept of anything he did at all and thus made stupid estimates as for how long it would take him to solve the case. He smiled as Filps put the snob back in his place, oh he would love to pickpocket the man and he had to try quite hard to resist the urge. To stop himself from doing it he turned to the snob and said "I do apologise, I'm afraid I don't know your name. What is it?"


Name: Brynn Lillibet

Apparent Age: 13

Gender: Female

Profession: Burglar, Pickpocket, Street Urchin, Self-Proclaimed Ruler of the Street Children, Snitch

: English

Social Class: Lower

Appearance: Brynn appears to be in her early teens. Her skin is covered in dirt and muck, and, judging by smell alone, it appears baths and her are not familiar companions. She dresses in raggy clothing a few sizes too large that she's nipped from ashbins and been given by charities as cast off. Her hair is a mixture of brown and black, though it can't be for certain it couldn't be a different color due to lack of cleaning. From the few stray strands that escape from a grubby knit cap she pulls over her head it can be said her hair is probably long.

Biography: Brynn is fairly famous amongst two London entities: the lost children of the streets, and the London Metropolitan Police Force. The children adore her as their leader. She organizes them, and directs their activities so that they are rarely want for food or shelter. The LMPF mostly loathes her because of her ease at breaking and entering, theft, and continued ability of remaining at large. It's rumored amongst the more superstitious constables and inspectors that she can sniff out traps before they're even conceived.


Physical: Weak
Nimble: Excel
Wit: Excel
Knowledge: Average
Faith: Average
Contacts: Average: Her Children (Street Urchins)


Area Knowledge: Slums



Move Silently/Hiding


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Brynn stood in an alleyway, well away from the more populated area of London for this time of day. The only illumination of the area was provided by a fire that was quietly crackling within a metal bin she had scrounged up with the help of some of the other children. The youngsters hovered around the barrel, holding their shivering fingers out toward the small amount of heat the fire provided in the brutal cold.

Brynn, like those she associated with, was grubby and looked like the undeserving poor that she was. She was one of the hundreds of urchins without parents that plagued the streets of London. They were a motley army, but highly skilled in picking pockets and minor atrocities that preyed upon the fringe of social society. Of them all, Little Brynn was looked to as a leader amongst them.

She coughed softly as he looked at all of the somber faces of her children as they stared into the flames licking along the small bits of wooden debris they would scrounge up to keep from freezing. She cupped her hands in front of her lips and blew warm air into her hands, and them spread them out in front of the barrel's opening once again. She turned her head and narrowed her eyes long before any of the other children heard the cause of her concern. Running footsteps were approaching. Brynn was about to call them to scatter, and then relaxed as she returned her attention to the fire.

A small boy, probably not even nine ran up and said, "Brynn. That bloke you 'ad me watchin'... from the yard? He's not left 'is station, but there be a bunch of the yard showin' up. Maybe they're havin' some sort a meetin'." Brynn frowned thoughtfully and nodded. She looked at the others and murmured, "Go find yourselves kip at Saint Katharine. Night like this? She'll have opened her doors to the poor, and there probably would only be hands in pockets tonight anyway. You see any others on the walk, you give the lot of 'em the same message yeah?" She smiled at the other children who quickly retreated into the night.

Brynn stared into the fire for a little while longer, mostly listening intently to her surroundings. She finally stepped away from the security of the light and warmth, and hurried off into the darkness. Brynn crept through the alleyways and streets, sticking to the shadows cast off by flickering gas lamps lining the street. When she neared the station in question she began to become very quiet and careful in her approach. New fallen snow was her friend. It left prints, but rarely crunched until it had spent a day getting accustomed to the ground. She was soon in a deep shadow on the outside of the gate that led into the street. She hunkered down and wrapped herself into as tight a ball as she could. She cupped her hands over her mouth and blew warm air against her fingers. She'd wait to see what came out.
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Name- Jack Hunter
Age- 29
Gender- Male
Profession- P.I.
Nationality- English
Social Class- Working
Appearance- 6’ tall with a slim yet muscular build, he has sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes and heavily tanned skin through living in a tropical climate. He is often dressed a cheap grey suit and a long black coat and trilby hat with a MKI Webley revolver hidden inside an inside pocket
Bio- Born to a poor family in rural Lincolnshire Jack spent much of his life working on his fathers farm before signing up for the army at the age of sixteen serving in Africa with the Royal engineers.
It was with the army that he saw action against both the Boers and the Zulu’s his skill with a rifle saving him on more than a few occasions, it was also in Africa that he was taught the art of demolitions although it isn’t a skill he’s had to use in a while.
With his time in the army now over Jack partnered up with an old army friend of his as a private investigator and although he and his former partner are no longer on speaking terms he has continued the work on his own and occasionally working for the police when a small amount of plausible deniability or illegality is required though for the most part he spends his time tracking down cheating husbands and missing people not caring who he works for or why.

Attributes; (Pick 2 attributes to excel in, 1 to be weak in and 3 to be average)

Nimble- excel
Wit -average
Knowledge- average
Faith- average
Contacts (who you know) – weak (A few old army buddies)

Skills; (Pick 5 skills in which your character is particularly adept)

Hiding/ Moving Quietly

"I told you, you didn't want to know" Jack spoke with an emotionless voice as the sobbing man sorted his way through the increasingly damning pictures of his wife with another man, he had warned him just like he warned all the others and just like the others he just had to know the truth.
Looking over at the clock on the mantel Jack realises that he is late his meeting with this particular client having over run "I have somewhere else I need to be...I'll collect my payment later" he said getting up from the hard backed wooden chair and collecting his long dark coat and hat before leaving the house.
Snow...he hated bloody snow, it was times like these he wished he was back in Africa stripped to his waist in a river strapping charges to a bridge, sure the natives were none to friendly but at least it was warm.
Turning the corner in the street he finds himself facing Scotland Yard where his next client was waiting for him inside. Walking up the steps to the front door he stops upon seeing the urchin curled up in the corner, fishing a pair of coppers from out of his pocket he flips them over to the girl "Get yourself something to eat kid" his voice just as cold as when he'd spoken with the crying man despite underlying kindness of his gesture.
Once inside the building he is directed to a room at the end of the corridor where upon he is ushered inside by a butler of all things who then promptly asked "May I take your coat and hat sir?"
"No you bloody can't" it wasn't that he feared the man would lose it but more for the fact that there was a rather large revolver currently sat within one of the inside pockets a fact he didn't exactly wish to broadcast within a police station.
Ignoring the dirty look given him buy the butler Jack settles himself down in one of the chairs glancing about at the other people within the room "So gentlemen what is that you want me to do?"
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Name- Peadar O' Shannon
Age- 29
Gender- Male
Profession- Detective Sergeant in the Metropolitan Police
Nationality- Irish
Social Class- middle
Appearance- A tall man with green eyes and bright red hair, Peadar epitomizes the stereotypical Irish look. Wears standard fashion of the times, sometimes caught wearing a cricket uniform carries a British Bulldog Metropolitan Police revolver and a lancewood truncheon
Bio- Born to a soldier father and housewife mother, Peadar lived the first few years of his life in the Irish city of Corcaigh. During Peadar’s third year, his father was moved to London, as part of a new guard division for Queen Victoria. As he grew up, Peadar saw that the situation at his new home wasn’t as good as he thought it should be. As he grew up, Peadar developed this need to help out the community, and eventually met that need by becoming a police constable. Despite discrimination, Peadar has proven exceptional skills in detectiving, eventually moved to CID. Though he believes he deserves to be a DI, Peadar is only a Detective Sergeant, but it’s better than being a Police Sergeant.


Physical : Excellent
Nimble: Average
Wit: Average
Knowledge: Excellent
Faith: Weak
Contacts: Average (Irish quarter)


Military Operations/ Science

“Detective Sergeant O’ Shannon, I have a message for you.” A young police constable was standing on the edge of the field, a paper in his outstretched hand. “I’ll catch you guys later, alright?” Peadar told his cricket group, while walking off the field. When he arrived at the constable, Peadar read the message. He was requested at CID’s office by DI Filps, a portly man in his forties. Guess it was important. “Is there a hansom waiting for me?” The constable made an uh sound for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Sorry, you’re expected to get one yourself.” Peadar shook his head. It was because he was Irish. Even to this day, there was Elisabethian prejudice against the Irish, which wasn’t warranted in the first place! No matter, he had enough for a cab.

After paying the hansom driver, Peadar entered Scotland Yard, a building built on the site of an unknown murder case. Still in his cricketer’s uniform, Peadar ignored the butler’s protest at his entering the room where the message indicated the meeting was being held. Peadar entered the room to find two DIs, and two private investigators (who probably thought they were Sherlock Holmes). Peadar took a seat near the door, and spoke. “Forgive me for being late, DI Filps. I was in the middle of a game, and your constable had trouble finding me. Also, he neglected to have a cab waiting for me, so I had to find my own. What are we investigating?”


Brynn sat shivering in the shadows and jerked her head in surprise toward Jack as he walked up on her and tossed her coins with advice. She caught the coins and stuffed them into her pocket and nodded with a muttered, "Bless you gov'nuh..." as she began to move as if she were getting up. She followed the man's movement with her striking hazel eyes as he continued through the snow and into the station grounds. After he disappeared into the station, Brynn got up and moved to a new location across the street. She hunkered down in the shadows once again and curled up into a tiny ball once more.

Brynn remained silent and shivering as she watched the station. Her eyes were drawn toward an approaching hansom. She pulled herself more deeply into the shadows and watched it stop in front of the station. She leaned over only slightly as the hansom pulled away, and she frowned as she watched some cricket player move into the station. She frowned in confusion and sat back in the shadows once again.

Brynn cupped her hands together and blew into them. Her eyes were drawn toward a window, in which she could see several silhouettes that she believed belonged to the men who were slowly gathering. She'd have to remember to pass off one of the coppers the bloke had tossed to her to her source. He'd more than earned it. She rested her head back against the cold exterior of the building and sighed.


((OOC: Braetwalda, before you commit to photography you might want to look up photography in the victorian era. It wasn't an easy process and involved a great deal of equipment. It was almost never used in investigation unless it was possibly to photo crime scenes etc.)


It looked like the last man had entered the room now. DI Filps was glad. No one was late and they al seemed eager to get started. There was still something missing though.

DI Filps looked at the people in the room for a moment, then as if just remembering something he stood up and headed for the door. 'Excuse me,' he said as he was leaving the room, 'I will only be a moment. Please talk amongst yourselves.'

He left the yard through a side door and walked out into the snow before looking around at the seemingly empty street. 'By god it's cold,' he said to no one. 'Hurry up and come out lass. I only want to talk and I think we both know you can help me. Of course you might not even be here. If that's the case then I am obviously just another old idiot stood in the snow talking to himself. God I hope I'm not talking to myself.'
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(OOC: Remember braet also that pistols and revolvers were quite bulky in those days.)
James watched as the other men entered the room, one wearing cricket gear and the other wearing a large coat with an slight bulge in his coat where something was hidden. Looking at the man cold and uncaring Esay put his money on it being a pistol or revolver. He watched as Filps left the room and raised his eyebrows. He was tempted to follow but remembered the butler and decided not to. "How about we introduce ourselves. This case won't get anywhere if we don't know each other's names. I am James Esay. Freelance detective/ Ex-thief/pickpocket/conman. What about you?" he said turning to the man with the pistol.


"I do apologise, I'm afraid I don't know your name. What is it?" The commoner asked.
Albert stiffened; "I am Detective Inspector Albert Worthington-Smythe." He said coldly. Before he had a chance to speak again two more people entered the room, one a commoner in an overcoat, and another a middle class fellow in cricket gear.
The middle class fellow spoke, introducing himself as DS O'Shannon. Oh no, a barbaric Celt, Albert thought.
DI Flips proceeded to walk out of the room into the yard. Ignoring the others, Albert spoke; "Hurry up, some of us have more pressing matters to attend to."


Character Sheet;

Name- Damon Blackfyre III
Age- 23
Gender- Male
Profession- Earl of the Blackfyre, royal detective.
Nationality- English, of course.
Social Class- Upper (He's an Earl)
Appearance- Damon is a 6'2 man with black long hair tied into a nice ponytail. He is pretty muscular but his Norfolk jacket covered his muscles. Damon is always seen with a red locket with a cross in a circle in the middle. Damon has his silver pocket watch in his coat but tied down so nobody could steal it.

Bio- Damon Blackfyre III, the only son of Damon Blackfyre II, the Earl of the Blackfyres and Martha Mockwood was left orphaned after his mother, father and his two sisters died in a fire in the old Blackfyre Mansion, Eternal Curse. Damon was then raised by his trusted butler and grew up to become a great scholar, a great fighter and a loyal servant to Her Majesty. He then joined D.I. Flips to work as a government employee.

Attributes; (Pick 2 attributes to excel in, 1 to be weak in and 3 to be average)

Physical - Excel
Nimble - Average
Wit -Excel
Knowledge - Weak
Faith - Average
Contacts - Average

Skills; (Pick 5 skills in which your character is particularly adept)

boxing / brawling 1
espionage 1
firearms 1
tracking 1
shadowing 1
Damon got down from his carriage and said, "Here, take this money and get the horse some apples."
He then entered the D.I.'s office. He saw Flips and said, "Hello sir, my name is Blackfyre. Damon Blackfyre the third. I have just been transferred to your staff. Please tell me what I need to do." He then sat down on one of the chairs. There he saw a number of people from different places.
He introduced himself to everyone and sat down, drinking the water near him.
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Albert turned as another person entered the room, a tall, smartly dressed man in a Norfolk jacket. Finally, someone of the right material.
"Hello sir, my name is Blackfyre. Damon Blackfyre the third. I have just been transferred to your staff. Please tell me what I need to do." He said.
Albert tipped his hat to the man, before moving to stand beside him, Blackfyre was drinking water for some reason. Albert spoke to him as sipped his own tea.
"Greetings sir, I am Detective Inspector Albert Worthington-Smythe, delighted to make your acquaintance."