Cthulhu Calling: Moons Over Cairo, Act Three

New York

written by symatt , March 21

The train came to a shuddering halt at Pennsylvania station in New York in a rush of steam and noise.

Glancing through the cab windows, police stood in line on the platform facing away, keeping the huge crowds of people away from the train.

An emergency wire must have been sent ahead.Harold peeked out of his cab door to look as to where the raised voices were coming from.”Please, No, remain in your cab until the police have spoken to you” Came a male voice with some authority to it.

As Harold backed up to retake his seat, he caught a glimpse of Justin on the platform in handcuffs with an officer holding his rifle and anger on his face as he shouted and waved a finger at Justin.

“Oh no, Thats not on.”

Reaching for his coat and carry on case, headed for the platform.

written by symatt , March 23
(placed comment on behalf of Magpie)The man blocking his path smiled apologetically and turned side on to let Harold pass.
“Sorry,” he grinned, his cultured English accent clearly marking him out from the crowd.
“Forgive me… do I know you?” Harold asked tentatively, almost certain they’d met before, or at that he’d seen the man’s picture somewhere.
“It’s possible,” the man acknowledged, his smile growing under his well groomed moustache. “Lord Howard McIntyre. Would you perchance be Professor Trimble?”
The two men shook hands hurriedly, an awkward act in the confines of the carriage.
“Am I to presume your presence in New York is a coincidence?” Howard inquired.
“Very likely not,” the professor conceded. “Listen, please don’t consider me rude, but I need to hurry. My companion’s just been arrested.”
Quickly handing Howard a business card, Harold dashed away to find Justin. Howard watched him go before glancing at the card and turning to the young woman so far hidden from view.
“That,” he told her, “was Professor Harold Trimble.”
She took the card from him and read the details.
“That was a fortuitous turn of events,” she answered. “We only came up this end of the train to see what all that fuss was about.”
“Life’s full of fortuitous turns of event, Miss Buckingham,” Howard said, his eyes twinkling. “And some not-so-fortuitous, too. Shall we go?”

written by Aja , March 25

Harold bustled his way on to the platform.”Hey! Hang on a moment!” he shouted in the direction of the policeman remonstrating with Justin.He saw Justin turn and look at him. Justin looked calm and smiled at the Professor. “It’s ok Professor. A small understanding. I’m just explaining to the officer here that I was only trying to protect the passengers. I’m sure we’ll be able to go about our business.”

The Professor strode up to the Police Officer and politely but firmly began explaining the events on the train, ensuring that he highlighted Justin’s part at every opportunity.

Finishing with a flourish, Harold stopped speaking and he and Justin looked questioningly at the Police Officer.

written by symatt , March 29

(placed coment on behalf of Magpie)The stocky negro met them on the platform.
“How ya doin’, yer lordship?” he doffed his cap and grinned at Howard.
“Very well, thank you, Mr Bailey,” Howard answered, slightly distracted by the events further up the platform. Professor Trimble appeared to be in the throes of a drama as he tried to convince the police officer of his case.
“And how are you, doin’, Miss Kate?” Bailey asked of the Englishman’s companion.
“Fine, thank you, Jeff. And you?”
“Oh, you know me, Miss Kate. I’m just dandy.”
Jefferson Bailey had never been able to reproduce the English accent the pair spoke with. This never stopped him trying, and Kate was constantly amused by it.
“Where’s his lordship wantin’ to go?” Jeff asked of her, noting it was pointless asking his employer.
“The office, please, Jeff,” she answered. “I think he’s had another of his brilliant ideas. He’s got it in his head he wants to sponsor some archaeological exhibition or something.”
“Yes, I have,” Howard mumbled, as if she’d been addressing him. he managed to tear his attention away from the scene before him and smiled at Jeff.
“Atlantic Autos, Mr Bailey, best speed!”
“Your chariot awaits, sir,” he said, in his worst English accent.

written by symatt , May 15

The officer took all of what Justin and Harold told him, and wrote notes in a a small leather bound notebook. Questions were asked but nothing that the two gentlemen could’nt answer or explain. A polite request to remain in New York was put to them which they both politely agreed with.
As a uniformed policeman apologised and removed Justin’s handcuffs a cloud covered the sun putting the bustling station into shadow, passing between crowds and under the high metal frame arches of Penn station through the foyer and out into the street.
The view outside the station took both men by surprise, a trolley car rattled and clanged past them, cars beeping their horns and people everywhere.
A reasuring glsnce at Justin and then Harold swung his coat over his shoulder placing his arms into it in one swift motion.
“Got the bags Justin?” Harold requsted of Justin without looking towards him.
Harold surveyed the street umbrella’s in blues and blacks were going up everywhere as the rain really started to come down like a tropical storm but without the wind.Mr H TRIMBLE was written on a large white board held aloft over the departing crowd, an unhealthily thin looking man in a black suit and tie which was’nt fastend at the neck, and the suit looked like it was made for a man twice his size was looking around as both Harold and Justin placed their now wet bags on the floor near the thin man.
Harold had to get his attention even though he was stood infront of him,
“I’m Mr Trimble, are you for us?” a bit of a surprise crossed the waiting man’s face, “Oh, oh i’m sorry Mr Sappington tol me to com an get ya”, his voice was kind of nasal and he left sounds off words that needed completing, ” If ya get in i tak ya straight to im ok!”
“He looks like a big rat in clothes” Justin whispered
“Sshh!” Harold snapped back but quietly from the side of his mouth.
Justin placed their bags minus his rifle which the police said he could have back in a couple of days, into the trunk and they both got in glad to be out of the rain.The car was skillfully driven weaving in and out of people and traffic, down long roads and passing tall buildings, until an impressive dome structure with romanesque columns infront came to view. This must be the library in the center of Columbia University, they came to a halt tyres crunching on gravel, and the car’s side door opened almost immediately, a well dressed man with dark short hair a round face and rouind glasses held an unbrella high and his hand out in welcome.
“Professor Trimble?” “It’s an honour sir, welcome to Columbia University”.

written by Aja , May 19

The Professor shook the man’s hand warmly. ‘Mr Sappington, I presume?’.Meanwhile, Justin went to the trunk of the car to collect their bags, only to be ushered away by the rat-like creature. Justin shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled after the professor.The Professor was busy talking with the umbrella wielding gentleman. ‘You wouldn’t believe what happened on the train…’

Justin kept a few paces behind and gazed admiringly at the architecture, not to mention the college girls carrying their bundles of books.

The Professor was busy relating the story of their journey. Justin hoped the trip would be worth it.

written by symatt , June 01
(placed on behalf of Magpie)The New York offices of Atlantic Autos overlooked City Hall, on Park Row. As Howard stared out of the window at the greenery, Kate took her customary seat at her desk.
“Here’s a letter addressed to you,” she observed, holding up the mail she’d found there. “It appears to be from Mr Sappington,” she added, hopefully.
Howard turned from the window and smiled encouragingly as he took the proferred mail. He quickly sorted it into piles; things he wanted to read (the letter, presumably from Sappington), things he didn’t want to read, but knew he had to (financial reviews and reports), and things he didn’t want to read, and had no intention of doing so (which went in the bin after no more than a cursory glance).
Then he picked up the letter and started reading.
“Oh, yes, lovely!”
“Good news, I take it?” Kate strained to peek at what was written.
“Yes, indeed,” Howard told her. “Firstly, Karl has accepted my kind offer of financial assistance for any exhibition that comes from this new unveiling he’s got planned. He wants a big event in front of the world’s press, and the words ‘Atlantic Autos’ will be plastered all over it!”
Howard was describing the arc of what Kate assumed was a big Atlantic Autos banner with his arms, and getting somewhat carried away with the drama of it all. He stopped, self-consciously, and turned back to her.
“Remember that Professor Trimble fellow? He’s on the invite list too! And his friend, the one in handcuffs? Seems he’s an olympic athlete.”
“Hmm,” Kate pulled a face, unconvinced that this was necessarily a good thing. “I suppose it would give Jeff someone to talk to.”
“You see the bright side of everything, don’t you?”
“That’s why you employ me.”
“Indeed,” Howard smiled indulgently. “Right, Miss Buckingham, time for action. Kindly raise Karl on the telephone and arrange a meeting for me. I have a corporate sponsorship to organise.”
As Kate checked for the number, Howard went through the details of the letter again. It would be good to speak to him again.

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