The Wenton House, Arkham Mass., March 7, 1928, 11:30am – Day 2

The tranquil mid-morning air of Professor Wenton's neighborhood has been shattered by violence and bloodshed. The sound of sirens cranking fill the air as the police and first responders draw closer to the scene. Along the street of the once peaceful neighborhood on Arkham's east side, neighbors curiously poke their heads out of windows and gather in small, cautious pockets along the sidewalks close to Wenton's house to catch a glimpse of the goings-on.

Directly across the street of the Wenton house, in the yard of Wenton's old neighbor, Dr. Moriarity is covered in blood, some from his own deep wound in his side courtesy of Professor Wenton, the majority of it from the neck wound of the old neighbor, also courtesy of a bullet fired from Wenton's pistol - most likely intended for Dr. Moriarity. Moriarity frantically treated the gravely injured neighbor able to stabilize him until the ambulance could arrive. Did the old man hold any more information that might aid the investigation?

Laying on the grass is Spencer Lowry, the victim of another gunshot wound inflicted by Wenton. Though the wound is not life threatening, Lowry is in an incredible amount of pain.

Having just exchanged gunfire with Wenton during his escape, Filip Latinovicz now joins his colleagues. The artist has managed to come through this bewildering encounter with Professor Wenton unscathed.

Suddenly, two marked Arkham Police squad cars turn the corner and arrive at the scene. As the police cars come to a stop in the middle of the street, the policemen exit their cars with guns drawn. Seeing Latinovicz standing in the street with a pistol in his hand they train their guns on the artist. One of the policemen orders, "Drop the gun and put your hands in the air!"

Almost simultaneously, an ambulance arrives on the other end of the street, two orderlies await to exit until they see that the man with the gun in the street is taken care of.

Behind the police cars arrive two more cars, first the trio from Miskatonic; Dr. Jeter, Dr. Valentine and Dr. Jelinek. They appear to be somewhat bewildered by the activity on the street and the sight of Latinovicz in a potential armed stand-off with Arkham's finest.

Behind the MU trio arrives Agents Callahan and Hammerstein, fresh from their investigation of the Panther Club, which seemed to have yielded little in the way of hard evidence. Now they were faced with what appeared to be a more involved crime scene. What had happened here? Did Wenton turn on Moriarity and the others? If so, why? Had he escaped? How would they find him now? What clues could be uncovered in Wenton's home? Was he hiding something? So many questions still needed to be answered...and the first of them, just what in the hell had happened here on this unassuming street in an otherwise peaceful neighborhood?

Count Thalim

Joe skidded the car to a stop behind one of the squad cars and jumped out, pulling his own gun out as he did so. With his left hand he pulled his badge out and ran over to join the police officers. "Agent Callahan, BoI"

He looked over the scene in front of him. "Do as he says, Philip, it'll save time" he turned to the police officer "He's with me on the Serial killer case, so are two of the others. Dunno about the last one"

"Hey, Doc, is that Wenton?" he shouted

_________________

davs

The artist dropped the gun to the grass, with a salvo of curses leaving his lips. "Jebena policija." He brought his hands up in a caricatured gesture of surrender, looking vilely at the policemen. Much could be said for the artist, but he certainly hadn't had any respect for the strong force of law. With his Slavic accent more evident than ever, he continued addressing the nearby police officers: "Go after Wenton. He started this bloody rampage."

From the poem Living Death, by Antun Gustav Matoš

Duke

"Callahan! Wenton's escaped.  He attacked and did all of this! Spencer and I have been wounded but this old man is going to die if he doesn't get to the hospital straight away!  Wenton took off that way!" He relates all of the information he observed about Wenton's escape vehicle.

"He's *very* dangerous and I suspect that he's responsible for these killings," he adds and looks to the rest of their party, his face replaying the horror that he had personally witnessed in Wenton's grasp. But, he was hesitant now in the light of day to speak of it again.  How could he not? What was the creature? What if Wenton had slain him? Would that monster have....drunk his blood?  

Moriarity returned forcibly to controlling the bleeding in the old man's neck with perspiration now dripping from him from effort and emotion.

skot

Jeter climbed out of the driver's seat of Armitage's car as soon as it stopped moving.  It was obvious the scene was one of potential distaster, and even though his exterior demeanor did not betray it, his heart was pumping with anxiety.

He caught the end of what was being shouted by Moriarity, and he saw the blood and what appeared to be several wounded people.  He was relieved to see Filip lower his weapon.  After what they had discerned of the nature of the knife, Jeter would not be surprised to find one of his own party suddenly turned into a maniacal killer.  He mentally chastised himself for succumbing to such superstition.

"What can we do to help?" he asked of Callahan.

TheKeeper
The lead cop lowered his pistol as Latinovicz complied with his orders. His partner approached Latinovicz cautiously, then stooped to pick up the gun with a handkerchief so as not to contaminate the evidence. The lead cop turned to Callahan, "Bureau boys eh? Well, you and your associates have some explaining to do here and I suggest you make fast with it."

The two cops in the second car kept their guns drawn and proceeded to enter Wenton's house. They shouted "Police!" as they began to enter the front door.

At the other end of the street, the two orderlies and a paramedic exited the ambulance and rushed toward Moriarity and the other victims. They further stabilized the old man, loaded him onto a gurney and wheeled him to the back of the ambulance. The medic looked at Moriarity and Lowry, "We'll need to get you two to the hospital as well. Those wounds look serious. You can ride in the back with me."

Davs: With Moriarty and Lowry injured, it was left up to Filip to tell the policemen what happened here. Still not hiding his obvious disdain for the police officers, the disheveled artist approached them cautiously. He walked as if his legs were made of rubber, every now and then jerking his head left to right. Obviously, what happened here had a much greater impact on Filip than he'd like to admit.

"We came to talk to Wenton. He opened the doors, we talked to him on the porch when he suddenly grabbed Moriarty and pulled him inside. Then we heard gunshots...I broke through the window up front, and I guess Lowry broke through the back door. We only wanted to talk to him, and the lunatic attacked dr. Moriarty..." His voice trailed off as he squinted at the officer.

__________
From the poem Living Death, by Antun Gustav Matoš

Duke
"Let's review our notes quickly," said Moriarity to his colleagues.  "Lives may depend on our acting decisively," he said truly concerned with all that transpired.  

He did his best to gather their group together.  "We should look through this house.  There may be important clues therein given how quickly Wenton had to depart.  But first, let me tell you that when Wenton pulled me in, he attacked me with a knife," he showed his wound.  "But when Lowry came in, he shot at him with a pistol.  Undoubtedly, he could have slain me easily with his pistol yet he chose the knife.   And as he came in for the kill, I saw...something very strange," he shakes his head, still not sure how to say what he had seen and experienced.  He looked to see how the others were reacting.

skot

Jeter heard Moriarity's words, and his already pale skin faded to more of a ghostly pallor.  He got as close to the doctor as the paramedics would allow.

"A knife," he said, his eyes darting about once, then becoming covered in a slow blink, "What did it look like?  Were their markings on it, perhaps something akin to Egyptian heiroglyphs?"

.

boskdeox

User is Offline
Conrad joined the group and listened intently, checking everything he heard against his knowledge of the occult.  He had been slow to join with the rest of the group, feeling it rash to jump out of a vehicle with so many guns drawn.

''Now what is all this about a knife, and what did you see.  Please do be quick about it, we need to know everything before you leave for the hospital.''

_________________

Count Thalim
"Darn, crazy loons" cursed Joe as he shoved his gun back into it's shoulder holster. "You boys" he said towards the police officers "you'd better get back to a station and get the word out now that we've got a name and description for our knife maniac. Call detective Kennedy as well, he'll know what to do about getting the OK from city hall for a manhunt if we need it."

He turned to Filip "You OK to ride up back? You got more knowhow on what the guys driving"

He looked back over to Jeter "Any of you boys know how to use a piece? I don't want no posse out hunting Wenton unless the're armed"

Duke
Moriarity closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing thoughts. He felt corny and silly in its own way. As if he were idly caught up in a movie rather than the events of real life.  Still, this was real and he needed to remember what he could.

"Aza....Aza...," he stutters, trying to remember.  "Azatoth? I think that was it.  Wenton was coming towards me and he started saying Azathoth or Azatoth? Although I may not be pronouncing it correctly.

"I couldn't see the knife's handle or for that matter to see that it was anything more than very large and....I don't know how to describe it. You'll think me timid but the word 'terrible' seems to come to mind.

"But as he was closing on me, I sensed another presence in the room.  An enormous...thing.  It seemed to fill the entire back of the room, I could scarcely believe it that there was nothing there. It seemed to have a reddish glow to it and, again, perhaps part and parcel of a hallucination, but there was a wretched stench to the thing.

"Again, when Latinovicz came through with that potted plant, both the...thing and the stench seemed to fade away instantly.  I know that I shot Wenton but he kept on anyway.  And he saw so well in the blackness of the room where I was fumbling about.  So very strange," he is shaking his head, sweat dripping from as the terrifying moments relived seemed not to have dulled their edge upon his raw emotions.

davs

"I'm OK agent. We should go then..." The artist replied to Callahan's question. Before getting into the car, Filip moved closer to Moriarty, to hear what has happened inside. He couldn't believe his ears when he heard the doctor's story. With Moriarty being so well grounded in what he thought was possible and probable, a story about 'something large and smelling' was much much too alien. It hit the painter that maybe Moriarty had more in himself than Filip could've ever guessed.

TheKeeper
The lead officer listened to Dr. Moriarity's explanation and took notes in his notebook, "Azatoth...large knife...Wenton...terrible..."

The officer stopped and looked at Moriarity with a raised eyebrow, "Large glowing stinky...thing."

He closed his notepad and pulled Callahan aside, "Look, I don't mean to presume, but...your pal there seems a bit cuckoo."

Just then, the two officers who had entered Wenton's house came back out, holstering their pistols. One of them shouted to the lead officer, "All clear, Murphy. You want us to seal it up for now or what?"

The lead officer, Officer Murphy, put his notebook in his back pocket, "No, not yet. These fellas may want to take a look. Turns out they're on the case."

Murphy looked at Callahan and Hammerstein, "Looks like Wenton gave us the slip. I'd estimate he had what, a ten minute lead or so? Not likely we'd catch him now. I'll put a call in and have the roads out of town covered. You might want to start working on a way to track him down if he stays local. Call it a hunch, but I think we'll hear from him again tonight...if in fact he is our mystery killer."

Spirael

As they pulled up to the commotion outside Dr. Wenton’s house, Artemis initially lingered in the car, gazing in fear out at the window. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to go out into the midst of the chaos. He could see the police waving guns, and was that the artist with a gun as well in the middle of things? He was sure he could make out Dr. Moriarity and Mr. Lowry there too, injured, and an unknown man covered in vivid blood.

Shamed by his own cowardice, but not willing to risk his own life by running into the midst of everything, Artemis cowered in the back seat of the car with his hands protectively over his head as he waited for the professionals to get the situation under control. No wonder there had been a warning for them to be wary, the academic thought miserably to himself. This wasn’t his kind of scene at all.

As things finally seemed to quiet down, Artemis risked peeking over the back of the chair. It seemed that everyone involved in the investigation was gathering to discuss something with one of the police officers. Finally, Artemis slid out of the car and drifted over towards the rest of the group. He tried not to think about the blood splattered on some peoples clothing, lest it made him light headed.

skot

Jeter listened to Moriarity, the color continuing to drain from him.  He stood, looking at Callahan.

"I do not know how to use a gun, nor would I want to against this."

He paused a moment, seeming as though suddenly even incapable of drawing breath.

"The wounded need tending, not interrogating," he said suddenly, waving a hand toward Moriarity, "And I believe an armed posse is not a good idea against what we may be facing.'

"However, looking inside there," he continued, pointing toward Wenton's house, "does seem prudent."

Duke

"Bah!" growled Moriarity in irritation.  Despite his bravado, he had taken a serious wound and grunted as he made to stand, his face growing ashen before pinking up in frustration.  "I'll be fine and I think Lowry will too.  I'm not leader here but if Wenton's escaped in hurry, there may be many clues inside that house including evidence linking him to the other murders and where the devil is his wife?!"

Moriarity tried not to appear frantic as that would only reinforce Murphy's opinion and thereby veracity of his claims.  "We have been stabbed and shot at and not only myself, but these mates here can validate that Wenton was behind it," he said irritatedly pointing out that both Lowry and Filip were witnesses to the attacks.  

"I suggest that you boys head in there now.  There may be clues that we need.  Lowry and I will be alright going to the hospital."

As if to dismiss them all, Moriarity waved towards the ambulance crew to take him away.

boskdeox

User is Offline


Conrad nodded his head in agreement, even though he only half heard Moriarity. He was too focused on trying to recall from his research everything he knew about posession and ritualistic objects.  For the first time this case looked as if it might involve something truly paranormal.  He could feel his excitement building as he went over the facts again.

Conrad's mind was racing, and he was having difficulty keeping his thoughts in order.  ''If Moriarity's story is to be believed, then we may be up for more than we bargined for.  If you see or smell anything like he described exit the house immediately.  Also, let Callahan or myself know if you find any shoes, we are looking for some that match prints found at the jazz club.  And can someone please explain the knife / heiroglyph connection to me.''

skot

Jeter went over to Conrad, speaking lowly as he looked around at those gathered who were not part of their group, "We found mention of an ancient knife in an old journal found in Tarski's apartment.  This weapon was crucial to a bizarre sect of the Aztecs, though its apperance suggests it came from Ancient Egypt."

Jeter halted, knowing this was not a suitable explanation, but he did not like proclaiming such things out in the open.

"Shall we adjourn our investigation inside?" he asked of them all.

.

Count Thalim

Joe lit up another cigarette and took a deep pull. He was torn between wanting to get after Wenton immediatly and investigating the mans house for clues. His instincts told him that the chase was best, the man couldn't have gotten far yet... But his brain overode him. Wenton had a several minute head start, he could be a dozen blocks in any direction by now. If they were going to track him they'd need to find some sort of clue as to where he might be going. The local boys could handle putting out random search teams.

"Darn it" he tossed his half smoked cigarette onto the sidewalk and crushed it underfoot. "I guess we had better find if this crazy's place has anything on where he might be heading"

Before he went in he headed back to his car and leant inside to rummage round the glove compartment briefly. A glance over at the cops told him they weren't paying him or Filip any attention. Pulling out his spare pistol he slipped it to the artist "You seem to know how to use a piece at least, let the cops have the other one for the time. It'll keep 'em happy" he whispered.

Standing up he walked over to the house "Let's see if the guy kept any notes then"

Duke

Moriarity got to his feet.  "I can walk," he said as he helped Lowry up as well.  "We'll be at the hospital.  You have all of the information that I have thus far.  My mind is at wonder but I am willing to face whatever truth lies 'fore us."

TheKeeper
Moriarity, Lowry and the old neighbor are loaded into the back of the small ambulance and whisked to St. Mary's for treatment. Though the old neighbor's condition will require extensive surgery and a prolonged stay at the facility, Moriarity and Lowry will be released by mid afternoon.

Officer Murphy orders the second squad car to return to the station and put all units on alert for a car matching the description that was given to him. Speaking to Callahan and Hammerstein, "I'll leave this scene in your hands, agents. I've got to go across the street and check on the old man's house so I can notify next of kin, maybe talk with some of the other neighbors. I'll expect a detailed report of your investigation will be shared with the department." The policeman wrote gave his card to Callahan, "I'll be on this case, along with Officer Johnson. Contact me directly at this number." He then turned to go about his business.

(Assuming the investigators all go up to Wenton's door.)

Standing on the front porch of Wenton's house, you can see the bullet holes in the window pane by the front door and the broken window. There is a small amount of dirt on the porch from the potted plant Latinovicz tossed through the glass. The front door of the house is open, but inside the house it is still dim due to all the window shades still drawn tight.

On the 1st floor:

- A small foyer. Where the initial struggle with Moriarity began when he was yanked in.

- The large living room. Where Moriarity was stabbed and witnessed the "entity".

- A study/reading room.

- An office room Wenton used for his archaeology work.

- The kitchen. Where Lowry was shot. The kitchen is located to the rear of the house.

As the investigators enter the dimly lit house they feel a sense of unease and dread as if some evil presence still lingered...

skot

Jeter walked cautiously into the house, letting his large, leering eyes peer about.  He noticed the signs of the struggle, and his already serious face crept further into a frown.  He passed on, moving further inside.  

He noted the lack of illumination, and he went over to open the drawn shades.  He was not normally averse to darkness, but something of the air of dread in here compelled him to allow more sunlight into the house.

From here, he moved to the study/reading room.  He always seemed attracted to locales bearing of books.  He was quite curious as to what he may find and not a little bit expectant.  He figured Wenton also had something of a work room or office, and he was interested to investigate such rooms, but for now, he scoured the books.  He was looking for anything of potential importance regarding their mystery.

botmind

User is Offline


Following Artemis' lead, Jelinek remained in the car during the chaos of the scholars' arrival at the scene of the crime, thinking to himself that then was surely not the time for introductions.  

Once things had settled down a bit, Jelinek marched to the door of Wenton's house and stood before the assembled investigators.  Flustered by all the action, Jelinek had more trouble than usual suppressing his heavy Bohemian accent.  Turning to the investigators, he said, "Good afternoon, Gentlemen.  I know now is hardly the time for a meet and greet, but I am Dr. Bohumil Jelinek.  I was an acquaintance of Dr. Tarksi's and stumbled upon Drs. Jeter and Valentine in the midst of their researches into the likely cause of his death.  I tried to assist them, but came up with little of use.  If no one objects, I would still like to help you find poor Tarksi's killer.  At the very least my linguistic skills may be of use to you in searching through Wenton's study."

If no one objects, Jelinek joins Jeter in the study and starts browsing through the shelves for anything that might help them understand what Wenton was up to.

davs

The artist introduced himself to Jelinek before they entered the house. "Any help would be great, Mr. Jelinek. I think all of us are getting into something a bit over our heads though..." With a grim face, the painter continued into the house. With his notebook in one hand, and a pencil in the other, he started sketching the room in which Moriarty and Wenton had their struggle. His hand worked fast, roughly sketching the walls and the floor, depicting the stains and any disturbances they might have made with immaculate care, unlike the rest of the room. Even before he was aware what he was doing, with his hand guided by some sort of an instinct, he started sketching a certain something in the back of the room, an unstable blob of frantic lines and dots...

He pulled his eyes off of the notebook, inspecting the rest of the room and adding more detail.

Count Thalim

Joe headed inside, glancing about as he did so. As Filip began to sketch the living room and the others went into the study Joe moved to Wenton's office. He ignored the large books in the room, they might hold the reasons as to Why Wenton had veered off the tracks but right now Joe was far more interested in Where the man had fled to. He looked for maps, guide books or phone directories which might contain clues to his suspects whereabouts.

skot

Jeter scoffed aloud after scouring through several books.

"An interesting collection, indeed," he said, looking about, "But nothing pertinent to our investigations."

He then glanced up, "Ah, yes, forgive my lack of manners.  Dr. Jelinek has been quite helpful."

Jeter then abandoned the study and moved to Wenton's office.  He felt sure this would be a better place to find anything that may help with their mystery.  He tried to ignore the feeling of dread, especially considering the bloodbath upon which they had arrived.  He also knew they all needed to share information, but it seemed the present urgency was in checking out Wenton's house.

.

botmind

Turning to Jeter as he headed out of the study, Jelinek said, "Nothing fruitful?  Alas, the same for me.  Although there are some extraordinary books here, none of them are out of the ordinary for a professor of ancient heathen cultures.  I think I shall go have a look in the kitchen for lack of anything more useful to do."

Jelinek heads over to the kitchen and looks around for any hints of Wenton's future plans.

boskdeox

Conrad follows the group inside, intending to examine the room Wenton made his escape from.  Out of habbit Conrad wipes his feet on the run, removing any mud from his shoes.  He is about to continue when he hesitates, he looks around and notices a pair of muddy boots sitting next to the door.
Quickly he pulls a note pad from his pocket and compares the boots to his sketch from the Panther Club.  
"Joe, come over here a minute.  How do these boots compare to your sketch?  They match mine dead on."
Conrad looks closer at the boots, searching for drops of blood or anything else incriminating as he waits for Joe's feed back.

davs

Filip hastily finished his sketching and followed Jelinek into the kitchen. "Do you smell that stench?" He rubbed his nose, looking at Jelinek quizzically as they entered the kitchen. Filip hoped the smell wasn't the thing which first crossed his mind...after all, they haven't seen Wenton's wife as of yet.
From the poem Living Death, by Antun Gustav Matoš

Count Thalim

Joe rifled though the documents that Wenton had left behind. Passport, keys, a matchbox from the Panther Club. He tossed them all in a small bag he carried for evidence and continued looking.

Just as he was heading out the door to reply he noticed a rolled up and dog-eared map on the floor. Stooping he picked it up and unrolled it as he stepped out into the hallway. It was a map of Arkham with various points marked. Various familiar marks...

"Conrad, does this pattern mean anything to you? It seems familiar to the killings" he offered his colleague the map and stooped to have a look at the boots himself

botmind

Jelinek nodded at Filip's observation and remarked.  "Indeed, the smell gets stronger closer to the door to the basement.  Shall we go have a look?"

Jelinek gestured Filip towards the door and instinctively crossed himself.  Old habits die hard, he thought to himself.  He reached for the door, and attempted to open it, determined to investigate what festered beyond it.

Runnamuk

User is Offline


Still clutching his wounded shoulder in the rear of the speeding ambulance Spencer relayed his feelings to Moriarity and confided in him his belief that something sinister was in that house and how he felt it may be centered some how in or near the basement.

The ride to the hospital seemed to be taking longer than he thought it should and the sight of the old man's wound made him feel more queasy than the one he had taken himself.

Spirael

Artemis wandered over towards Wenton’s house a little while after the others. He felt rather reluctant to enter the area, after the gun fight and blood bath of before. The thought crossed his mind that he would much rather be back in his own little apartment right now, curled up with a book and a cup of milky tea. But, as everyone else headed in, he found himself feeling more reluctant to stay behind.

As he entered the house, Artemis stepped nervously around anything that seemed to be a blood stain to then stand uneasily in the corridor, watching helplessly as everyone else went straight for specific areas and started pawing through the professors things.  

Everyone else seemed to take this kind of thing in their stride, Artemis noticed. But he wasn’t really an investigator in this way, he didn’t know what he should be looking for. Before, at the library, was more his comfort zone. He was better suited to trawling through heavy tomes and putting together the information found than hunting through someone’s house looking for obscure clues, he felt.

Humming comfortingly to himself, Artemis padded all over the house, opening doors seemingly at random as he looked around curiously, but not in any great depth. Everything seemed slightly strange compared to what he was used to, over here in America. Furniture, decor... Even the fixtures and fittings. They all worked much in the same way, but there were subtle differences that left them feeling alien to someone who had not grown up around them.

boskdeox

User is Offline


Conrad examined the map, making not  their correlation to where each of the murders had occurred and trying to mentally superimpose the image over all the Aztec and Egyption symbols he could recall.

"It's too dark in here, I'm going to need more light to know for sure."

Conrad takes the map and heads out into the door way to get some more light, and checks the locations on the map for any familiar patterns and locations.

"Hey, where did Jelinek and Filip wander off to?  This is supposed to be a crime scene, we can't have a bunch of porfessors disturbing things before we get a chance to examine the scene."

Duke
Moriarity nodded to Spencer.  "Thanks again, Spencer.  You really saved my life back there.   Strange that Wenton didn't just shoot me," he said still marveling at his own survival.  "I wish the others had told us more about what they had learned in their own investigations.  But perhaps the knife was the key.  Blood sacrifices and such that Wenton was exploring.  In any case, we should keep an eye out while we're here.  Wenton's quite mad and may think nothing of showing up here."

TheKeeper
Jelinek slowly opened the door to the cellar and the stench that he and Latinovicz had smelt earlier became stronger. The two man stood at the top of the stairs and looked downward into the dark - a narrow flight of stairs led downward and there appeared to be a dim light being cast from somewhere in the cellar, but they could not tell what it was from their vantage point.

Spirael
Having completed his fruitless circuit of the main rooms in the house, finding nothing he considered to be significant to the investigation, Artemis drifted over to where the two men had opened the basement door and were gazing down the narrow flight of stairs into the cellar.

“Gosh, something smells awful.” Artemis commented helpfully.

skot

"Indeed," Jeter replied to Artemis having just arrived back into the main area after a fruitless search of Wenton's office, "Odious does not begin to do it justice."

He took a few tentative steps toward the open door, content to let the others precede him into that yawning darkness.

"I don't suppose there is a flashlight in the kitchen?" he asked.

.

boskdeox

Conrad was just turning to find where Jester had gone when he did a double take at the map.

''Joe, take a look at this.  I can't figure out a pattern, but at least a third of these locations are where the murder's have take place.  I assume these other locations either already had a murder take place or will soon enough if we don't stop Wenton.  The locations must be important, but I can't figure out why or which one will be next.''

botmind

Jelinek looked back at the crowd gathering behind him and said, "Well, gentlemen, it's time to be bold."

With that said, he turned towards the stairs and headed down, hoping that some of the others would help him.  He lit a match to help guide himself down the stairs and kept the matchbook at the ready in case he needed more light.  Jelinek attempted to look around as best he could for the source of the stench.

Count Thalim

Joe pulled out a fresh cigarette, struck it and offered one to Conrad. "Yeah, I figured it had something to do with our friends bad habit for killing people."

He turned to head towards the kitchen "See if any of the eggheads can spot if there is a pattern, I guess I shouldn't leave 'em to find any more bodies" he took a deep drag of the cigarette "It's what they pay me to do nowadays"

He headed for the stairs, glancing about for some candles as he did so.

TheKeeper
As Jelinek stepped down the stairs a strange draft extinguished his lit match. However, the dim glow coming from the back of the cellar provided just enough light for him to keep from stumbling down the narrow stairs. Behind him, Jelinek heard Latinovicz, Jeter and Valentine following him and soon the four men found themselves standing in the small room.

The cellar was roughly twenty feet square. To the right side of the room were several shelves that contained jars of fruit and vegetables, old garden tools and various other household odds and ends. To the back of the room, the wall farthest from the stairs, there is an old wooden table with a linen draped over it. On the table are three lit candles which are the source of the only light in the room. As the three men moved closer to the table they noticed four mason jars, each one of them containing...something. At closer inspection, they see that they contain human hearts!

The stench in the room is almost unbearable.

To the left wall sits an old ice box. The puddle at the base of it indicates that the drip pan has not been drained in a couple of days. On top of the icebox is a leather satchel that looks quite possibly like a portfolio a scholar might carry one's books in.

botmind

Jelinek shuddered at the sight of the canned hearts.  He had seen many horrors in his time, but carefully preserved hearts had not been one of them.  

"We had better get the inspector to have a look at this," he said in a low voice.  "I'll just have a quick glance in the ice box to let him know what he is in for."

With his curiosity getting the better of him, Jelinek carefully removed the satchel from the lid of the ice box, passing it to Valentine, saying "Have a look at this for me, please, professor."

Then Jelinek opened the icebox.

TheKeeper
As Jelinek opens the door to the icebox, the stench becomes unbearable, causing the four men to become nauseous. Inside the icebox is the carefully dismembered body of what could easily be assumed to be Mrs. Wenton. The flesh is in a state of decomposition and oddly, there is no sign of blood - neither in the remnants of her flesh or inside the icebox.

Count Thalim

Joe paused at the top of the stairs, even through this cigarette smoke he could smell the stench of decomposition. The sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh, nothing else really came close to it.
His mind briefly flashed back to the trenches after one side or another had tried to make it across no-mans land. The dead had lain out there for weeks at a time, the wind blowing the smell back & forth and sometimes just leaving it hanging over the dugouts.

Joe shook his head Snap out of it, Kid he thought. Remember your Bureau training. He headed back out into the hall "We got at least one body in the basement, Conrad" he called out "Been there a couple at least"
He picked up the phone and rang the local detective he was working with "Kennedy? We got a solid lead on the case, but I'm gonna need the coroner and some backup at this place" he said, giving the address of the Wenton house "Also, see what you've got on file for a Professor Wenton. He's made an attempt on one of my people with a knife and right now he's top of my list for this case"
he listened to the reply nodded "Right, I'll do it up in a report for your file" and then hung up.

Spirael
Artemis headed down the staircase at the same time as the others, innocently wondering if maybe some food had been left to go bad down in the cellar, which was causing the nauseating smell. Or perhaps it was a problem with the sewerage?

The first part of the cellar seemed innocuous enough, as he reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. But as his gaze reached beyond to the candle lit table on which the jars with human hearts sat, he found himself feeling increasingly uneasy.

Artemis just nodded mutely to Dr. Jelinek’s comment, and nodded again in acquiescence as he was passed the satchel. Moving over to the table, the scholar rested the satchel onto it and took a look inside. Carefully he started to pull out the contents.

But he froze part way through, as he suddenly found himself fighting the urge to vomit at the sudden horrendous stench that filled the room as the lid was opened on the ice box. Quickly Artemis raised a hand to cover his nose and mouth, gagging.

“Th-that’s... Ugh.” he started, his eyes watering. He glanced over to where he could hazily make out the shape of a body inside the ice box, and decided that perhaps he didn’t want to be down in the basement any longer.

“I’ll...I’ll look at this upstairs.” Artemis continued weakly, suddenly desperate for some fresh air. He turned and hurried back up the staircase with the satchel.

Once in the kitchen, he hesitated but reached a rapid decision that he still wanted fresher air, away from that awful smell that he now realised was death. So, he headed outside to stand in the front garden and take a closer look at what was in the satchel. He tried his best to focus on it, and not let his mind dwell on the fact that he'd just been standing in a room with a corpse.

boskdeox

As Conrad followed Joe towards the stairs, his heart began racing again.  The smell did not bother him. In fact, he was hardly aware of the smell at all.  Rather he was focused on an almost overwhelming sensation that something was not right.  Conrad had to keep reminding himself that Wenton was gone, and that they were relatively safe at the moment.  None the less he could shake the feeling that he was being watched by some unseen presence, one that clearly did not want him there.

Shaking his head to help clear his mind, Conrad continued forward keeping one had close to the Luger he always kept in his belt...something was not right.

botmind

Jelinek turned his head to the side and gagged as the full force of the odor hit him square in the face.  Seeing the dismembered corpse of what must have been Mrs. Wenton, Jelinek was horrified, but perhaps less than a normal person ought to have been.  I have seen such disfigurement before, he thought, but not wrought carefully by the hands of man, but by the merciless shrapnel.  Jelinek could not help but associate the cold brutality of the two actions.

Turning to the others, he said, "Sorry about that gentlemen.  That will teach me for putting my nose where it does not belong.  Before I shut the lid I did notice a strange absence of blood. . . "

Seeing Valentine bolt up the stairs, Jelinek thought he had better check on him.  He was not always so blase in the face of horror, and knew the heights of terror and thus wished to console the young man.  He went up the stairs and called after Valentine, "Are you alright young man?"

skot

Jeter found himself expriencing hesitation as he descended the stairs.  This was a bit too confining for him, and the darkness did not help.  It seemed as though it held a palpable power and was pressing upon them, along with the walls of the cellar.  He steeled himself and continued forward.

There certainly seemed to be something of an altar here, at least some crude definition of a modern man's place of ritual.  Perhaps even that of one driven by forces outside himself.

He was able to "handle" the discovery in the icebox, but it was likely due to his already clinical, scholarly state of mind.  Who knew what fulcrum might finally cause those fragile mental barriers to bend or break?

He watched as Valentine headed upstairs with the satchel.  Jeter was quite curious as to what was inside, and he did not seem overly compelled to stay down here in the dark slaughterhouse.  He would rather continue with research with Valentine as they had done in the library.  He strode back up the stairs, searching out Artemis.

"Let's take a look in that satchel, shall we?" he invited.

davs

The painter followed Jelinek's lead into the basement with careful stoicism. His guess about what was the source of the stench was obviously well aimed, but Filip didn't feel too good because of that. His face was a pale mask of whiteness, and for a moment, he envied Valentine for running upstairs. With the sketchbook already in his hand, Filip had more on his mind than personal comfort. His eyes were transfixed on the hearts.

Jeter's voice snapped him out of it, and he glanced around the rest of the room. "That's Tarski's satchel...but I guess there's more of Ivan here than some of us'd like." He controlled a shudder with a shake of the head.

From the poem Living Death, by Antun Gustav Matoš

Count Thalim

Joe struck a fresh cigarette, glancing at his packet as he did so. Gonna need a new pack soon he thought sourly as he headed down into the basement.

Taking a deep pull of the cigarette he blew smoke out through his nostrils, smothering them in the smell of the nicotine. A trick from the trenches, he wouldn't be able to smell a thing for several minutes now. Something he was quite grateful for.

He saw Filip standing there with his sketchbook looking at the hearts "Think you'd be able to sketch 'em so our surgeon friend'd be able to match 'em to the bodies?" he asked, displaying his almost complete ignorance of the science of pathology.

boskdeox

Conrad followed closely behind Joe, one hand covering his mouth and nose as the other used his cane to guide him down the darkened stairs case.  The stench was overwhelming.  Picking up on Joe's lead, Callahan lit a fresh cigar in hopes it would mask the putrid smell.

"I don't think that's how it works, unless we have a before sketch of the victim's hearts...what in the..."
Conrad  reaches the bottom of the stairs and begins to take in the scene.  He stared at the hearts on the table, clearly not what he was expecting to find.  Conrad takes another minute to take in the scene.  "Joe, ever seen anything like this before.  It looks like Wenton was expecting a dinner guest."

davs

"Hmmm...I doubt our dear doctor would settle just with the sketches..." The morbid joke lacked his usual ironic zest. Obviously, even the oddball painter needed some time to process the scene. "I wonder...did he take his wife's heart too?" Filip figured the number of hearts would be the same to the number of victims. Or maybe Wenton murdered more people, whose bodies they still had to find?

From the poem Living Death, by Antun Gustav Matoš

TheKeeper
A short while after Callahan's call, the coroner arrived along with another police squad car. They were ushered into the house and down the cellar stairs by Officer Murphy who had finished his questioning of the Wenton's neighbors.

"Agent Callahan, Agent Hammerstein...good lord!" Murphy exclaimed as his eye caught the site of the dismembered body in the ice box. He covered his nose with his hand. "Mrs. Wenton, I presume?" His gaze lingered on the horrific site, then he turned back to the two agents as the coroner and the crime scene investigators filed into the room behind him, "Didn't really turn up much with the neighbors other than what we have...no sign of Mrs. Wenton for days and Mr. Wenton coming and going at strange hours of the night. However, one of the neighbors, he's an amateur astronomer, was able to give me approximate times he noticed Wenton leaving while he was on his roof stargazing, and they seem to coincide with the estimated times of the recent murders."

The coroner and the crime scene unit had moved on to examining the ice box and retrieving the parts of the body therein. The coroner held up the head and remarked grimly at the features, "Blonde, middle aged, female, it does appear to be Wenton's wife." After the head was placed gently in a body bag, the coroner produced the torso, "Hmmm...yes, the chest has been split neatly and the heart is missing." He turned to look past the agents at the table behind them, "I assume that is it behind you gentlemen." The coroner turned his attention back to the body parts and continued, "Same as with the others...a lack of blood. Strange indeed."

Murphy watched as the rest of Mrs. Wenton's body was placed in the bag. When the coroner and the others were finished he spoke to the two BoI agents, "I'm going to have to cordon off the house until this case is resolved. We'll keep a watch on it in case Dr. Wenton returns."

Murphy swept his hand, "All of this will be marked evidence in the case. Hopefully, we'll net our man soon. I shudder to think of a maniac like this on the loose."

Murphy then shouted up the stairs, "Okay boys, seal it off!"

The coroner approached Callahan and Hammerstein, "I'll be undergoing a complete examination of the remains. If you need a copy of the report, call me."

Count Thalim

Joe was on his third cigarette by the time the coroner had finished poking and packing the corpse. Knocking the packet he offered one to Officer Murphey. "Right, we'll clear out then. I want to check on my people who ran into our friendly butcher earlier anyway"

As they headed up the stairs he continued "I still got a few leads to follow up, If I can get a handle on where he's headed next I'll probably call in some heavy artillery. I get the feeling that this one's not going to go quietly" Joe glanced back down the stairs to where the coroner was studying the hearts and muttered under his breath "And I ain't sure I'd let him anyhow"

Spirael

Artemis didn’t hear Dr. Jelinek calling after him as he headed out of the house. But he did look up as he was joined by Dr. Jeter in the front garden.

“I think it belonged to Dr. Tarksi.” Artemis replied, feeling a bit better now that he was away from that awful smell. Also, focusing on the satchel was a good distraction from the horrible things he’d seen down in the basement. Though he was sure he was in for more nightmares this evening over it. The stench still faintly lingered around his senses, giving him an overwhelming desire to scrub himself clean and burn his tainted clothes.

“This seems to be his journal.” he continued, smiling at the other man despite his unease. “It talks about John and Eleanor... The Wenton’s, I assume? About how John was taken ill and returned from Central America. How he refused food and drink, and became obsessed with an artefact that was discovered.”

Artemis paused to push his glasses up his nose. “I assume he means the knife.”

“It sounds like Dr. Tarksi paid some visits to the two,” he added, continuing to speak even if anyone else gathered nearby, “and he mentions Eleanor was considering seeking some professional help for her husband. But that was the last time he mentions seeing her.”

“The following day he visited again, seeing only John. He talks about how initially he didn’t see the problem, but soon started to see what Eleanor was talking about, that John was agitated and wouldn’t let him get close. He writes that John, Dr. Wenton, dismissed any talk about his trip, but became restless when the dig was mentioned. When the artefact was mentioned, apparently he started to shout and become incoherent, saying something about a key that would open the gate. And a power casting a shadow that was following him?”

“It doesn’t make much sense.” remarked Artemis, shaking his head slightly.

“He continues that he received an old Spanish book through the post from Eleanor, post marked for two days prior and including a letter stating that she feared it was part of John’s affliction, or might help to explain it. I can only assume it’s the book we were looking through earlier.”

“She also said that John grew angry when he realised the book was missing.” continued Artemis, hesitantly. “I... Wonder if he killed her over it? And whether Dr. Tarksi was killed as Dr. Wenton tried to retrieve it? He could have picked up this satchel, thinking that the tome would be in it. Which would explain why the satchel and this journal were at his house.”

“When he found that the tome wasn’t in the bag, then maybe the man at Dr. Tarksi’s apartment block was an accomplice who was trying to recover it?” Artemis suggested, spreading his hands. “He might have thought that the caretaker had it, or knew something about it.”

“The journal finishes with an entry Dr. Tarksi made on the day he was killed.” he concluded sadly. “Saying that he was reviewing the tome, but could not confirm its veracity. But that it made a dreadful tale of forces spoken of by the late Padre Diaz, and that he feared Dr. Wenton had somehow become the pawn of an inexplicable dark force.”

Artemis dropped the book back into the satchel, wondering whether it needed to be handed over to the officials as evidence for this case, or whether they would be better to keep hold of it. Indecisive, he just kept a hold of it for the time being.

“I’m not sure about the validity of all these dark force claims.” Artemis commented thoughtfully. “I think it’s more likely that Dr. Wenton must just have lost his mind.”

“It’s tragic that his wife didn’t seek help when she was considering it.” Artemis added sorrowfully, casting his eyes downwards. “Her life, and Dr. Tarksi’s life, might have been spared if Dr. Wenton had been taken into secured care at that point.”

(Sorry for the delay in posting! Real life got busy. ;_; )

botmind

Artemis seemed a little shaken, but getting progressively calmer as he spoke to Jeter, so Jelinek did not bother to repeat his question.  

He listened to the words of the young scholar and nodded at the last, "Yes, I agree.  This talk of dark forces seems to stretch things a bit.  Though it is odd that Wenton would suddenly spiral down into madness for no apparent reason. . .  At any rate, I doubt it was some ethereal bogeyman that was the source of his frenzy.  More likely he caught some parasite that affected his brain while he was down there.  But, of course, I am only speculating ..."

Seeing little else to do, Jelinek walked round to the steps and had a seat, waiting for news of what the group would do next.

skot

"This confirms our suspicions," Jeter remarked, seeming non-comittal regarding Artemis' conclusion that it may have been all personal psytchosis, then he closed his lips with a thoughtful finger, speaking around the crooked digit as he continued, "I would be hesitant to presume an accomplice.  Could it not have been Wenton who slew Tarski's apartment manager?'

"It seems, though, that we have something he wants, or at least is loathe to have in another's hands," he said, speaking of the Spanish Tome, "Though I do not look gladly toward it, this may be a means to get him to come to us."

He paused, thinking of his own journeys to places further South and how such travels may shake the firmest resolve of the scientifically minded.

"Perhaps we should check on our colleagues in the hospital, and it may be a good time for us to compare notes of our independent investigations."

_________________.