A case for Scotland Yard

tigermite

Albert watched as Esay moved out of the room. Turning to Flips, he spoke; “I will go now to interrogate my prisoner, if you wish to come, then you may, otherwise, I bid you good day.” Turning, he donned his top hat and strode out of the door,
He turned through several corridors, before reaching a set of stone stairs leading down to the prison cells.
Albert descended the stairs, which led into a large room, policemen stood, guarding a row of cells, each filled with suspects.
A clerk sat behind a desk, filing in paperwork.
“Good morning.” Albert said briskly.
The clerk looked up and stood to attention. “How can I help you?”
“Two of my men brought a man here earlier and put him in solitary confinement for questioning, he should be conscious by now. I wish to interrogate him. Where is he?”
 

English Bill

In Scotland Yard
The custody sgt watched the DI as he came down to the cells and bowed deeply when he was greeted. He had just days till retirement and he just wanted the easy life so he gave the detectives what they wanted and he knew how this particular superior liked all the pomp and grandeur.
‘He is just down the corridor Sir, bound up good and proper so he don’t hurt himself. Third cell along sir.’
The Cell itself was small and the man was indeed conscious, bound to a wooden chair so that only his head and neck had any movement. He watched the DI enter with a look of pure hatred.

At the Docks
As Jack approached the guards, neither met his gaze. In fact both remained perfectly still with blank glassy stares. It wasn’t until he was almost on top of them that he noticed the blood running from their ears and the long metal rods that ran from the backs of their skulls to the stonework of the building behind.

The Rookery Slums
Frank Kitch was one of the best sneak thieves in London. He was one of the few who if he boasted of stealing the crown jewels, would probably be believed. If he didn’t want to be seen, he wouldn’t be seen. Thankfully Esay knew where to find him and he wasn’t hiding from Esay. The house Esay wanted was not hard to find. It sat in between all the run down tenements of the Rookery like a jewel in a sewer. The sign above the door read simply ‘Madame Flory’s’ and he knew that his contact’s mark was there also. A small red circle that would look like a random stain to anyone who didn’t know.
The young girl outside gave Esay a wary smile as he climbed from his cab and gestured for him to head inside.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
As neither man answered him or even deigned to acknowledge his presence Jack was about to raise his voice further when he noticed the blood and the manner of their fatal injuries. He'd seen plenty of death during his time in the army but never anything like this; it was as if somebody had nailed them to the wall but to what purpose?
"Something’s seriously wrong Peadar, come we'll take the side door this stinks of a trap" he spoke as he hurriedly moved away from the dead men and headed towards the smaller side door hoping that should there be any trap lurking within the building that it would be mainly focused upon the front door, and that now that they expected it the pair of them would be able to overcome it.
Drawing the heavy revolver from out of his coat, Jack thumbs back the hammer as he approaches the side door no longer concerned with stealth.
Should the guard prove to be living unlike his friends around the front Jack would be having a little chat with him at gun point however should he prove to be as dead as he suspected he'd enter the building armed and ready.
 

johannmaximus

Well-Known Member
Peadar stayed behind while Jack walked up to the guards. Brynn was nearby. Peadar was making sure she was safe, as well as playing the part of Jack’s immediate boss. If necessary, he would step in, and explain the practicality and the irony of the Irish mafia hiring an Englishman to do work for them. After a minute of staring at the stone still guards (they must be very good guards), when Jack called out. Something was wrong, and Jack suspected a trap. “Stay here, Brynn. If somebody tries taking you, scream and run. Make your way back to the barge and get out of here. Head back to Scotland Yard if you can.”

Peadar headed to Jack’s position at the side door, drawing out his Bulldog. Passing the guards, Peadar gave an involuntary shudder, these guards were dead, blood leaking out of their noses and mouths, their bodies bolted to the wall, to maintain the illusion of guarding. Who would do this, and was the prince ok? Peadar finally arrived at Jack’s position. “Alright. I’ll take point. You open the door, and I’ll go in. You follow me. Ready?” Peadar asked, while drawing back the hammer on his Bulldog.
 

tigermite

Albert stepped inside the cell, keeping his eyes fixed on the captive.
The DI hadn't done many interrogations in his time, but knew the basics.
He gestured for one of the cell guards to come over to the cell. If the prisoner didn't talk, then he'd need some help making sure he did.
"Whom do you represent?" The Albert asked in a clear voice.
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
James entered the room and Frank was standing there. "Frank old man! How ya been?!" He firmly shook hands with Frank before starting. "Now then listen man, I've got a job for you. Bobbies hired me out for a bit on a quite good payroll, and they need someone followed but they can't let members of the force do it. They're willing to pay nicely too." James had pulled out the money Flips had given him "Would that do you for a fortnight or so, you'd need to report back to me everyday, just be here at about this time and I'll come meet you. You up for it? If so I'll give you the details."
 

English Bill

At the Safe House
Jack and Peadar found the side door unlocked and slightly ajar. The room inside was very dark with the only light being that which filtered in through the high skylights and that was only the dim light of the moon. Inside the warehouse was full of crates and barrels of various shapes and sizes all laid out in a maze. Peadar had dealt with Chinese gangs before and he knew their fondness for tactics involving puzzles, mazes and ambush. That was why he was not surprised to find that the workers in the warehouse were all of Chinese origin. What he was surprised to find was that they were all dead.
Each one laid in a pool of blood with their throats slit. There were dozens of them and though some were armed, none had managed to draw their weapons before death.
A long smeared trail of blood lead through the corridors of crates like a highlighted path but without following it, it was impossible to tell where it lead.

In Scotland Yard Cells
The prisoner stared up at Albert like a dog eying a joint of meat. He didn’t respond at first and the constable who was on guard that night drove his fist into the prisoners stomach, the act being rewarded by a grunt of pain.
‘Corporal Harker, 2nd platoon, 1st company, Light Dragoons. Kings man.’ The prisoner declared loudly.
‘The inspector asked who you work for, not your damn name.’ the constable spat before punching him again.
‘Corporal Harker, 2nd platoon, 1st company, Light Dragoons. Kings man.’ The prisoner repeated. He didn’t take his eyes off Albert.

The Rookery
‘That will do me a fortnight and a week,’ Frank replied, ‘but lets just tell those toffy that its a week and a half.’ Frank laughed. He retrieved a bottle of brandy from a nearby cabinet. It was clearly a very expensive bottle but it was unlikely that he had paid for it. ‘So whats the mark?’
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
James took a swig of the brandy before passing it back to Frank and then speaking "Well, some papal prince who was negotiating a trade agreement has gone missing, and one of the detectives was following up a lead on some man named Captain Frederick. So he leaves and is nearly jumped by some armed thugs, we want to know why. Our detective friend is convinced Frederick is involved so who am I to deny him?" James laughed and then gave Frank a description of Frederick and the name and address of the place where Worthington-Smythe had met Frederick. "So then, can you do it?"
 

tigermite

Albert stood motionless as the prisoner repeated only his name, rank and number. He was military, that was interesting.
Turning to the constable, Albert spoke; "Fetch some water, sawdust, soil, a spoon, and if you can get any, sand."
Stepping forward, the DI suddenly swung his cane, smashing the metal point into the man's neck.
"Now. You will tell me who hired you to follow me. Or things are going to get a lot worse for you." He said coldly, his eyes boring into the man.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
As soon as he'd gently pushed open the door and followed Peadar into the building it became clear that the entire place had been turned into a charnel house; its occupants strewn across the floor with their throats cut and lying in pools of their own blood.
Holding the revolver out before him, Jack slowly begins to follow the blood trail, its surface shining in the dim light of the moon, a quick hand gesture signalling that the Irishman should follow his lead.
With every sense on high alert Jack moved deeper and deeper into the warehouse his weapon on a hair trigger ready to aim and shoot at a moments notice, however whether that would do him any good was yet to be seen after all whoever or whatever had attacked this place had left no survivors "There must have been an entire company of men to do this" he whispered quietly doing his best to avoid stepping in the pools of blood "...and either they took the time to take their dead with them...or they were very good" he continued with just the barest touch of admiration in his voice.
Once they had found the prince Jack promised himself that he would have a long talk with Flips; nothing had been mentioned about professional hit squads meaning that he was well within his rights to double his fee for this nights work.
 

English Bill

In the Safe House
Jack lead the way through the maze, following the trail of blood. It was slow going with every corner hiding potential threat. Yet no threats emerged until they eventually found themselves on the other side of the room. In front of them were the offices. Small rooms attached to the wall like indoor sheds.
Above the offices and now clearly visible, was a grotesque scene of horror. Suspended between six long chains which pulled him in all directions, was the corpse of a well dressed Chinese man. He had clearly not died as quickly as the others and thousands of tiny cuts dotted his face and body while his ears, nose, fingers, toes and eyes were all removed completely. Painted in blood on the wall behind him were three strange shapes. The first looked like a T but with the horizontal line curving upwards around a dot. The second was a waved line over a thick X and the third was a pentagram inside a crude circle.

In Scotland Yard Cells
The prisoners eyes widened as he heard the list given to the constable but the constable rushed off without saying a word.
When the constable was gone the prisoner looked at the DI. ‘I won’t break you know. Nothing you can do to me would be worse that what would happen if I betrayed the order. I will take my own life rather than betray my master.’
With that the man spat on the floor at Albert’s feet and gave him an icy stare.

In the Rookery
Frank stopped smiling as the description was given. ‘What have you gotten yourself into James? The Captain is a very dangerous man around here. Now I am not saying I won’t do it but you have to understand that this fellow has eyes and ears that even I don’t know about and I’m not just talking about other snobs, I’m talking about beggars to barmen. He is dangerous.’
 

johannmaximus

Well-Known Member
When he entered the safehouse, Peadar was greeted by a ghastly sight. Strewn across the floor were murdered Chinese warehouse workers. He had never seen this amount of murder. “To think what humans are capable of, Jack,” Peadar said in wonderment. “This was no easy thing to do. Any potential invader would have to go through a maze of products, ambushes around any number of corners. Whoever attacked knew this place extremely well.”

Following Jack through the maze, heading toward the far back of the warehouse, he noticed that all the bodies were Chinese workers. No indication of the attackers’s presence. The attackers were extremely quick, the Chinese had no chance to draw their weapons, not one of them. Jack made comments about how good the supposed company had been. “Maybe it was less. Do you know if the British Army was giving any special training to certain units?”

Before Jack could answer, however, there was a gruesome scene. The owner of the warehouse, a very well dressed Chinese man, was suspended from six chains, stretching him out in all directions. Extremities were removed and tiny cuts peppered his body. Behind him were three shapes painted in blood. “Look around some more, I’m going to stay here, and draw this scene, and the shapes. They might mean something.” Peadar uncocked his Bulldog, and put it back in its sheath, drawing out his notebook and pencil, and began drawing the scene. “Oh, we’ll also have to seal off this place, and get some more detectives here. We’ll find a constable on beat after we’re done in here, and then get some detectives from Scotland Yard.”
 

Zemelci

Well-Known Member
James stopped smiling as Frank started telling James what to do. "Frank, I know what I'm doing, we're keeping one step ahead of the Captain at all times, that way we're perfectly safe. That's one of the reasons we're getting you, to keep one step ahead of him." Of course they really weren't, they were about forty steps behind but James trusted himself to handle himself in a fight well. He knew Frank didn't need to worry. "Just take care of yourself Frank, I'll see you tomorrow." and he put the first part of the money on the table and left. He'd pay Frank as he normally did, every time he checked up he'd pay the next bit. Leaving the house he got back in the taxi and ordered the driver to his address. He would get a couple of hours sleep and then carry on.
 

tigermite

"Well, we'll see about that." Albert said coldly. "You see, with the mere mention of what I'm going to have done to you, you have already begun speaking of more than your name, rank and number." He smiled. "Progress is being made."
"Now. We should have a few minutes before the constable returns. If you tell me who hired you, then you will not have to face what I have in store for you. Is that clear?"
He would break this prisoner. What he had in mind would break anyone. He would break.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
It was slow going through the maze of crates which often seemed to be stacked to the very ceiling, every minute Jack was expecting someone to jump out from some barely seen gap or overlooked corner causing his heart to thump in his chest at an alarming rate yet the hand gripping the revolver thankfully remained rock steady despite this.
He considered Peadar’s question as to whether the British army had specially trained units before quietly murmuring "Yes...but probably not in way you're thinking" Jack himself could be considered to have had specialist training having been taught to use explosives, quickly learning rule number one by heart...don't blow yourself up.
However before he could speak any further on the subject they came across what remained of who he assumed was the warehouses foreman; hanging suspended by several heavy duty chains with his eyes torn out and his face cut to ribbons obviously whatever he had done to deserve such a fate had been taken personally by his killer.
As the other man began sketching the strange symbols daubed upon the walls, the like of which he'd never seen before in his life Jack moved over to search the offices his weapon never leaving his hand despite his colleagues confidence in them being safe here and the killers long gone, in Jacks experience it was better to be safe than sorry.
 

English Bill

The Rookery
As Esay left, Frank still had a look of uncertainty but he took the cash regardless and made his own way out of the building before disappearing into a nearby alleyway. The alleyways around the area were notoriously unsafe but Esay doubted Frank would have to worry about such things.
As he climbed into the cab Esay yawned. Sleep would come easily.

The Yard
The prisoner glared as it was pointed out that he had already spoken more than he intended. He was clearly a tough man with years of service , seeing all manner of horrors and possibly even being responsible for a few. He would be stubborn and resilient. It was also clear however, that he was not too bright, possibly accounting for the reason he was still merely a corporal.
‘You don’t frighten me you spineless toff.’ The prisoner spat. ‘I’ve seen stuff that would curl your toes. Best thing you could do is kill me now and go prey to your god for a merciful end.’

The Docks
As Peader scrawled down the details of the scene around him he noticed something else out of the ordinary. It wasn’t as obvious or bloody as the rest but it was still unusual. He had dealt with enough smugglers in his time as an officer to know when shipping labels were forged or altered but the crates around where they stood went beyond being goods simply being marked twice to allow some to go missing. These crates were all military grade with Royal stamps which had for some reason been diverted several times before reaching the warehouse where they were intended to be anyway. Why would someone divert the crates only to bring them to where they were always meant to be ?
Jack was also finding strange things. The offices had all been furnished and decorated into expensive, comfortable but rather cramped living areas. There were no bodies in these rooms and no signs of violence such as blood or weapons marks. Despite this it was clear that the rooms had been well searched by hands that took no care with the task. Sheets were ripped, cupboard doors ripped off and any containers were smashed open. The level of damage made Jack guess that there were either multiple searchers or they took a very long time doing it.
 

tigermite

Albert sighed. The prisoner was hard, but not too bright. He might be able to outsmart him.
He drew a breath, before speaking; "That may be. Now, whilst I am waiting for the constable to deliver the instruments that will break you. We may as well have a civilized discussion. Tell me, where did you serve?"
 

johannmaximus

Well-Known Member
After Peadar had sketched the scene, he put his notebook away and looked around. For the first time since he had entered the warehouse, Peadar looked at the crates, to find out what sort of goods they were importing. Even before he got to the nearest crate, Peadar noticed the stamp. It marked the crate as a Royal Crate, ordered by royalty, for royalty. This was strange. Smugglers didn’t use royal stamps, it was too risky if they got caught. Either these were very stupid smugglers, or this was a legitimate business. That didn’t explain why this crate was redirected from this warehouse, to another warehouse, and back here again. It was a variation of a smuggler’s trick, but it didn’t quite fit. “Jack, these crates are royal property. But since this is now an investigation of the Met, I’m going to find out what these Chinese had in them.” Peadar looked around and found a prisebar on one of the bodies. He then used it to pry open the crate.
 

braetwalda

Well-Known Member
Whoever had been within these rooms had been thorough that much Jack was certain of, however what they had been looking for or why was a different question entirely and one he didn't know the answer to. With his gun still within his hand although albeit pointing at the floor Jack had been through the richly furnished rooms no doubt one of them having belonged to their prince that is if Tommy had been telling them the truth. Sifting through the detritus littering the floors he looks for any sign that the Papal prince had indeed been within these rooms before leaving them to join Peadar.
Moving over to join the Irishman he listens as his partner mentions that the crates were royal property however upon taking a look at the stamp Jack realises that that wasn't the case "These ain't royal...they're military I'd recognise that stamp anywhere" how many crates with that stamp had seen over the years? Each one packed with rifles, cartridges or explosives "So what are you saying? That somebody’s been skimming rifles or something...and if so why butcher the men running your operation?"
 

English Bill

The Yard

“Tell me, where did you serve?"

For a moment it looked as though the soldier was not going to answer Albert’s question. His eyes remained fixed and rigid, burning into the DI with a fierce hatred. Slowly, however, the hatred faded into a strange look of confusion. Almost as if the question itself was proving difficult to answer.

‘India,’ the soldier replied eventually, though the answer was forced as if uncertain.

The Docks

Jack searched the chambers for signs of the prince’s presence and was swiftly rewarded with several strong clues. Whoever had searched the chamber were clearly not after valuables, or interested in hiding the truth of the rooms occupant. Signet rings laid scattered around an upturned jewellery box, fine clothing and rich furnishings embroidered with the Prince’s own seal were torn and spread like waste. Finally though, Jack found a bundle of papers. Letters written in both Latin and Italian, all bearing the Prince’s own name and seal as either sender or the receiver.

As Jack joined Peader the Irishman was already prising the lid of one of the crates. The wood creaked violently under the pressure and the escape of air disturbed the thin strip of dust that had formed in the tight space between crate and lid. Eventually the nails gave way and the wooden top lifted away to reveal the contents. Inside, nestled amongst straw and wood shavings, say a number of fine cavalry swords. Each clearly fit for an officer.

Jack immediately recognised the oddness of such a thing. Anyone who purchased a commission in the Queens Army was expected to fund themselves and swords such as these would not be simply issued. Either someone with a great deal of money had commissioned an unusual order or the blades were intended for an elite core of non-commissioned soldiers. Both theories raised more questions than they answered.

Esay’s Address

Esay arrived home in good time to get a few hours sleep but rest did not come easily. He did not know the reason but something did not sit right in his mind and he had the feeling he was being watched. Yet try as he might, he could find no signs of a spy inside or outside his home. Everything was as he had left it and looking from his windows, he could see nothing out of the ordinary.

When he finally did awake from his fitfull rest, a note had appeared from beneath his door.

James
I have found a link to the Captain that I am about to pursue. If the name Jessica Elizabeth Ulfwin means anything to you, I would suggest you approach her with some caution and a very open mind.
Frank