27th April 1984
In the morning of this fine spring day we ventured out to Kew Gardens to meet with Lord Herbert Gilsmore, the number two man there.
We showed him our results from the blood tests.
He was able to dig out some information from his archives.
There is a rare plant known as Death’s Tears and is described in the native tongue of the ancient Amazonian tribe of the Tipoc’s.
The plant was discovered and brought back to England by the explorer Gregory Archer.
In fact, Gilsmore informed us; Archer had not long returned from another trip to South America and was lecturing at the British Museum.
We thought to ask Archer about the plant but Gilsmore said our best bet was to speak with another explorer, Augustus Tilsbury, who accompanied Archer, was less overt, and did the write-up for Kew on the plant.
He could be found most evenings at the Temple public house.
Gilsmore have us the name of Sir Getham Allbridge, the curator of the museum.
I knew also that we should tread carefully at the museum. The figurehead for the place was one Lord Hawksmore, the Duke of Monmouth, and Commander-In-Chief of the British Army. Not one I wanted to upset so I for one was going to tread carefully.
We arrived before Archer’s lectures began.
He told us that he was in South America looking for ruins of an ancient civilisation when he discovered this new plant that grew only in this small area. The locals avoided it apparently.
Archer brought back only two specimens, one of which was displayed at Kew (dried and dead) the other he sold to a private collector through an agent.
That was as much as we gained from him though neither of us got the impression he had been completely open and honest with us.
Over lunch we decided upon a plan of action:
First we would track down Droogan, one of JP’s associates. JP had hired him and his men to go to the address we had been falsely given at the Euston Hotel. We knew we wouldn’t find Jane Culver there, we were interested in just what we would discover there.
Next we would go to the Temple Inn for around 7.30pm to speak with Tilsbury.
Then we would go on to the Three Lions for about 8.30pm to find Carver.
And finally we would return to the Shaftsbury for around eleven where JP had a meeting he had to attend.
Once we met with Droogan we were pleased to discover that the address had indeed been a trap. There had been four goons waiting there in the employ of Vernon Culver. Those goons wouldn’t be trouble for a while!
The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
27th April 1984 (Cont...)
Our next stop was the Temple Inn.
There we met Tilsbury.
He is an older gentleman than archer, a lot less brash, and a lot less full of himself.
Once we established that our opinion of Archer and his were on an equal standing, i.e. that we both considered the man a pompous arse, Tilsbury was rather open to discussing his recent endeavours.
He explained that there had so far been two expeditions. The first of which returned three months ago. They were searching for the ruins of a lost civilisation. This corroborated Archer’s tale at least, though we didn’t believe that he only returned with the one plant. Tilsbury confirmed the theory.
He did some research whilst on the original journey and discovered journals written by the conquistadors that mentioned the small blue flower.
It was fabled by the descendants of the Tipoc tribes that the plant, if used correctly, could constitute the key ingredient in a potion that could impart immortality on the drinker.
Of course, if used incorrectly, then it became a chronic and lethal poison.
Things were beginning to add up.
It was at this point that the lights went out.
Immediately I became suspicious and looked around just in time to see the lights of the street outside as someone stepped through the main door.
Another tried the door but it was now locked.
Then came the scream as something unseen tore the throat from one of the customers.
There was mayhem as in the darkness several more people were attacked.
It was not until I bellowed for silence that some sort of order descended.
Despite there being many influential persons within the establishment very few were willing to lend a hand. Those who protested against my instructions were very soon cowed into obedience once our mystery attacker struck again.
The light from my torch and JP’s ether-comm did little to assist us, however after several more attacks we located the vicious gremlin-like creature with its razor sharp claws and pointed teeth.
It was an agile little bastard! Leaping about like some tree monkey, taking great slices out of people as it passed by.
What a bloody job JP and myself had!
We realised that it was going for Tilsbury (my assumption from the beginning).
With sword-cane in hand (as my pistol proved no good against the speedy critter) I managed to grab the thing as JP coaxed it out.
It sank its vicious teeth into my arm JP managed to finish it off with a broken chair leg to the back of its skull if I remember rightly.
What a fine mess we were in by the time the lights were returned and the police arrived.
Armstrong was on the scene very quickly as was another gentleman who seemed to be standing observing rather than getting involved.
Norrington turned up later and told me the mysterious gentleman was one Inspector Carver, from Special Branch.
He seemed rather sinister to me and there was no love lost between the two men.
Both the sergeant and Inspector Norrington were taken aback by the sight of the unusual creature we revealed hidden under my coat on the floor.
It was like a gibbon crossed with a dog, a jackal, and it was of the like I had never seen before, even in zoos I had visited across Europe.
Surprisingly JP identified the creature, though I confess I forget the Latin name he gave it.
He became rather concerned about me though, taking the translation of a part of its name very seriously; Vampire.
Tilsbury, who had refrained from entering into conversation with the police, gave his hip flask to JP and me.
The rather disgusting concoction in it, however, had some rather extraordinary effects.
Immediately my aches and pains were gone, including my sore leg, and then I noticed the creature’s bite marks had healed over, leaving merely an angry red mark.
Astonishing!
We were eventually allowed to leave and headed back to the Shaftsbury, where JP insisted on taking a sample of my blood and then injected me with essence of garlic!
Did he really think I was going to turn into one of Stoker’s abominations?
I let him have his suspicions without too much objection though, as it kept him quiet.
I didn’t sleep well that night. The overpowering smell of garlic oozing from my every pore made me feel sick!
Our next stop was the Temple Inn.
There we met Tilsbury.
He is an older gentleman than archer, a lot less brash, and a lot less full of himself.
Once we established that our opinion of Archer and his were on an equal standing, i.e. that we both considered the man a pompous arse, Tilsbury was rather open to discussing his recent endeavours.
He explained that there had so far been two expeditions. The first of which returned three months ago. They were searching for the ruins of a lost civilisation. This corroborated Archer’s tale at least, though we didn’t believe that he only returned with the one plant. Tilsbury confirmed the theory.
He did some research whilst on the original journey and discovered journals written by the conquistadors that mentioned the small blue flower.
It was fabled by the descendants of the Tipoc tribes that the plant, if used correctly, could constitute the key ingredient in a potion that could impart immortality on the drinker.
Of course, if used incorrectly, then it became a chronic and lethal poison.
Things were beginning to add up.
It was at this point that the lights went out.
Immediately I became suspicious and looked around just in time to see the lights of the street outside as someone stepped through the main door.
Another tried the door but it was now locked.
Then came the scream as something unseen tore the throat from one of the customers.
There was mayhem as in the darkness several more people were attacked.
It was not until I bellowed for silence that some sort of order descended.
Despite there being many influential persons within the establishment very few were willing to lend a hand. Those who protested against my instructions were very soon cowed into obedience once our mystery attacker struck again.
The light from my torch and JP’s ether-comm did little to assist us, however after several more attacks we located the vicious gremlin-like creature with its razor sharp claws and pointed teeth.
It was an agile little bastard! Leaping about like some tree monkey, taking great slices out of people as it passed by.
What a bloody job JP and myself had!
We realised that it was going for Tilsbury (my assumption from the beginning).
With sword-cane in hand (as my pistol proved no good against the speedy critter) I managed to grab the thing as JP coaxed it out.
It sank its vicious teeth into my arm JP managed to finish it off with a broken chair leg to the back of its skull if I remember rightly.
What a fine mess we were in by the time the lights were returned and the police arrived.
Armstrong was on the scene very quickly as was another gentleman who seemed to be standing observing rather than getting involved.
Norrington turned up later and told me the mysterious gentleman was one Inspector Carver, from Special Branch.
He seemed rather sinister to me and there was no love lost between the two men.
Both the sergeant and Inspector Norrington were taken aback by the sight of the unusual creature we revealed hidden under my coat on the floor.
It was like a gibbon crossed with a dog, a jackal, and it was of the like I had never seen before, even in zoos I had visited across Europe.
Surprisingly JP identified the creature, though I confess I forget the Latin name he gave it.
He became rather concerned about me though, taking the translation of a part of its name very seriously; Vampire.
Tilsbury, who had refrained from entering into conversation with the police, gave his hip flask to JP and me.
The rather disgusting concoction in it, however, had some rather extraordinary effects.
Immediately my aches and pains were gone, including my sore leg, and then I noticed the creature’s bite marks had healed over, leaving merely an angry red mark.
Astonishing!
We were eventually allowed to leave and headed back to the Shaftsbury, where JP insisted on taking a sample of my blood and then injected me with essence of garlic!
Did he really think I was going to turn into one of Stoker’s abominations?
I let him have his suspicions without too much objection though, as it kept him quiet.
I didn’t sleep well that night. The overpowering smell of garlic oozing from my every pore made me feel sick!
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
28th April 1984
Sergeant Armstrong called round in the morning.
He brought with him some useful information.
Firstly, he had located our Manchester gentleman’s hotel.
Secondly, he was under the impression that he had managed to identify the girl we had discovered on the cart behind the theatre.
A vicar – Father Gordon Gates has been inquiring about a missing girl who matches the description of our victim.
Well, I must say that this morning I was rather fired up. After that realisation that somebody had set some bazaar and rather murderous creature loose in a crowded pub just to get at either myself, JP or Tilsbury, I had had enough playing nice.
So far we had been chugging along, looking into this, looking into that, and doing a good job of building our case, I might add.
So now was going to be a time for a change of pace.
JP and Bull both agreed.
Despite this I still thought it prudent to visit the vicar and hear what he had to tell us.
We found the man in a soup kitchen. He spoke about the girl, Rebecca Morris. He told us that he had heard from a man named Stanley, a war veteran who drank in the Blue Angler, that Rebecca had been approached to be a model for a painter.
Apparently Stanley had gone looking for the scout who’d approached her.
Stanley was found dead the next day.
We took Father Gates to St Arthur’s where he identified the body of our girl.
So there we had it. One giant piece thumping into place across two both of our investigations.
Whoever Carver was taking these girls to was our culprit.
Things were also not looking so good for our Miss Jane either.
Later in the day we headed for a pub called the kings head. We were told we could find Billy Carver there.
After a short scuffle in which Bull exerted his authority, we managed to grab Carver.
The slimy toad tried to wriggle out of it but we were very aggressive, and JP’s chemicals very persuasive.
Carver told he takes the girls to the house of the Veiled Lady.
Before he could be made to answer more, HCM appeared and despatched our Mr Carver. He gave JP a poke or two also, before leaving.
The Veiled Lady sounded to me to be both mysterious and dangerous.
I didn’t like the idea of going into this without knowing what we were up against.
Then JP and myself hit upon a great idea. We would meet with Culver, our fellow from up North and inform him that his wife was staying at the Veiled Lady’s address.
Disguised as Jimmy Ambrose I took JP to meet this antagonist.
He took the bait.
Sergeant Armstrong called round in the morning.
He brought with him some useful information.
Firstly, he had located our Manchester gentleman’s hotel.
Secondly, he was under the impression that he had managed to identify the girl we had discovered on the cart behind the theatre.
A vicar – Father Gordon Gates has been inquiring about a missing girl who matches the description of our victim.
Well, I must say that this morning I was rather fired up. After that realisation that somebody had set some bazaar and rather murderous creature loose in a crowded pub just to get at either myself, JP or Tilsbury, I had had enough playing nice.
So far we had been chugging along, looking into this, looking into that, and doing a good job of building our case, I might add.
So now was going to be a time for a change of pace.
JP and Bull both agreed.
Despite this I still thought it prudent to visit the vicar and hear what he had to tell us.
We found the man in a soup kitchen. He spoke about the girl, Rebecca Morris. He told us that he had heard from a man named Stanley, a war veteran who drank in the Blue Angler, that Rebecca had been approached to be a model for a painter.
Apparently Stanley had gone looking for the scout who’d approached her.
Stanley was found dead the next day.
We took Father Gates to St Arthur’s where he identified the body of our girl.
So there we had it. One giant piece thumping into place across two both of our investigations.
Whoever Carver was taking these girls to was our culprit.
Things were also not looking so good for our Miss Jane either.
Later in the day we headed for a pub called the kings head. We were told we could find Billy Carver there.
After a short scuffle in which Bull exerted his authority, we managed to grab Carver.
The slimy toad tried to wriggle out of it but we were very aggressive, and JP’s chemicals very persuasive.
Carver told he takes the girls to the house of the Veiled Lady.
Before he could be made to answer more, HCM appeared and despatched our Mr Carver. He gave JP a poke or two also, before leaving.
The Veiled Lady sounded to me to be both mysterious and dangerous.
I didn’t like the idea of going into this without knowing what we were up against.
Then JP and myself hit upon a great idea. We would meet with Culver, our fellow from up North and inform him that his wife was staying at the Veiled Lady’s address.
Disguised as Jimmy Ambrose I took JP to meet this antagonist.
He took the bait.
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
29th April 1984
Having returned to the Shaftsbury, we got up early and headed over to the Veiled Lady’s address so that we could see how Culver fared.
Our first observation was the door ajar. This made me suspicious.
I wondered if Culver had been and gone, having secured his wife.
Slowly and with weapons drawn we entered the well-to-do residence. There were signs of a struggle but there was no-one around. We heard movement on the floor above so crept up the stairs.
The sound had come from the room entered via the door immediately at the top of the stairs.
Gently pushing the door open I was confronted bt a large pi;le of cadavers, all recently deceased through violent means. Included amongst the dead was Mr Vernon Culver himself.
I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and aimed my gun at it.
It was HCM and he flew at me with blinding speed.
I tried to pull back out of the room but the devil managed to slice into my arm. Luckily for me it was only the faintest of cuts. Strangely, as I staggered backwards out of the room HCM didn’t follow.
We became aware of a very short man standing beside us. His name we discovered later was Tullis and he was the Veiled Lady’s servant.
He led us up to meet the woman herself.
Despite a few low key threats hidden in her words she seemed neither bothered by our arrival or concerned about the outcome of our plans.
It seemed that she had been engaged in providing a service and no longer deemed the contract suitable.
She was however most perturbed by HCM’s unwillingness to kill JP, despite her numerous instructions to do so. Odd, considering his reaction to my friend at their every meeting!
As we sat and conversed with the Lady at her huge round table with the crystal ball she revealed that we should seek out Mr Sharp at his abode – 50 Bridge Street, Bayswater.
So without further ado – we did.
Our welcome was not hospitable, but JP had removed the shotgun from the hands of one of the men who came to greet us and used it to shoot the man in the back room who was about to do likewise to us.
Well, the long and the short of it is – Sharp was indeed an artist. Not a particularly note-worthy one though. He was being paid to take the ladies that Carver found out to another studio in Bayswater.
The women would be unconscious, bound, bundled into the back of a truck and Sharp and his goons would drop the ladies off in a room round back of the gallery.
When I asked who the studio belonged to I felt dread; Baron Richard Falstaff.
I knew this man!
Having returned to the Shaftsbury, we got up early and headed over to the Veiled Lady’s address so that we could see how Culver fared.
Our first observation was the door ajar. This made me suspicious.
I wondered if Culver had been and gone, having secured his wife.
Slowly and with weapons drawn we entered the well-to-do residence. There were signs of a struggle but there was no-one around. We heard movement on the floor above so crept up the stairs.
The sound had come from the room entered via the door immediately at the top of the stairs.
Gently pushing the door open I was confronted bt a large pi;le of cadavers, all recently deceased through violent means. Included amongst the dead was Mr Vernon Culver himself.
I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and aimed my gun at it.
It was HCM and he flew at me with blinding speed.
I tried to pull back out of the room but the devil managed to slice into my arm. Luckily for me it was only the faintest of cuts. Strangely, as I staggered backwards out of the room HCM didn’t follow.
We became aware of a very short man standing beside us. His name we discovered later was Tullis and he was the Veiled Lady’s servant.
He led us up to meet the woman herself.
Despite a few low key threats hidden in her words she seemed neither bothered by our arrival or concerned about the outcome of our plans.
It seemed that she had been engaged in providing a service and no longer deemed the contract suitable.
She was however most perturbed by HCM’s unwillingness to kill JP, despite her numerous instructions to do so. Odd, considering his reaction to my friend at their every meeting!
As we sat and conversed with the Lady at her huge round table with the crystal ball she revealed that we should seek out Mr Sharp at his abode – 50 Bridge Street, Bayswater.
So without further ado – we did.
Our welcome was not hospitable, but JP had removed the shotgun from the hands of one of the men who came to greet us and used it to shoot the man in the back room who was about to do likewise to us.
Well, the long and the short of it is – Sharp was indeed an artist. Not a particularly note-worthy one though. He was being paid to take the ladies that Carver found out to another studio in Bayswater.
The women would be unconscious, bound, bundled into the back of a truck and Sharp and his goons would drop the ladies off in a room round back of the gallery.
When I asked who the studio belonged to I felt dread; Baron Richard Falstaff.
I knew this man!
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The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Back Street Symphony's, The Crown Capital
"This is a matter of delicacy"
"They usually are, Inspector!"
"Yes, Yes, Quite"
"Your man completely reliable?"
"There's only one person I trust more than him, that being myself!"
"Well then, we'll leave the matter in your capable hands Lord Reynolds!"
"This is a matter of delicacy"
"They usually are, Inspector!"
"Yes, Yes, Quite"
"Your man completely reliable?"
"There's only one person I trust more than him, that being myself!"
"Well then, we'll leave the matter in your capable hands Lord Reynolds!"
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The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Late Summer 1984, Maristow House, Devon
Late summer had started the change to Autumn, the sun a little lower in the sky, mornings bearing a little chill while midday sunny and warm, the vibrant greens of the grounds woodland foliage starting to change to yellow the transition to orange.
Lady Rebecca Reynold's having completed her rigorous regime of working out and fencing, having now showered and made herself presentable presented herself for late breakfast. Eating alone she acquainted herself with the days news before before responding to her summons Turnable appeared at the great doors to the breakfast room, the aged Butler waited for her to speak.
"What time did Sebastian arrive last night?"
"His Lordship has sent word of a change of plans, he has travelled from London to Edinburgh!"
Rebecca frowned, she was sure her infuriating older brother was avoiding her
"Any explanation why?" she asked, Turnable clearing not willing to venture anything further of his own volition
"Urgent business mil'landy"
Late summer had started the change to Autumn, the sun a little lower in the sky, mornings bearing a little chill while midday sunny and warm, the vibrant greens of the grounds woodland foliage starting to change to yellow the transition to orange.
Lady Rebecca Reynold's having completed her rigorous regime of working out and fencing, having now showered and made herself presentable presented herself for late breakfast. Eating alone she acquainted herself with the days news before before responding to her summons Turnable appeared at the great doors to the breakfast room, the aged Butler waited for her to speak.
"What time did Sebastian arrive last night?"
"His Lordship has sent word of a change of plans, he has travelled from London to Edinburgh!"
Rebecca frowned, she was sure her infuriating older brother was avoiding her
"Any explanation why?" she asked, Turnable clearing not willing to venture anything further of his own volition
"Urgent business mil'landy"
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The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Blair Castle, Blair Atholl, Scottish Highlands.
The Zep Shuttle cut through the twilight, the gathering darkness of the summer night.
Lord Reynolds took in the slender of the rolling highland hills covered in thistle and heather, Samuel Brocklesbury swung the craft into a descending arc.
Ether vents fired from the upper fuselage slowly pushed the ship downwards against the perpetual buoyancy of its ether bubble, pitching her down onto the forecourt of the ancient stone castle before them.
"Very good Sam, Butlerling hasn't dulled your skills" quipped Lord Reynold's already on his feet and heading towards the hatch
For his part Sam cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips "Quite sir!"
The side hatch hissed and swung open
Reynolds hopped down into the ground "Shall we"
The Zep Shuttle cut through the twilight, the gathering darkness of the summer night.
Lord Reynolds took in the slender of the rolling highland hills covered in thistle and heather, Samuel Brocklesbury swung the craft into a descending arc.
Ether vents fired from the upper fuselage slowly pushed the ship downwards against the perpetual buoyancy of its ether bubble, pitching her down onto the forecourt of the ancient stone castle before them.
"Very good Sam, Butlerling hasn't dulled your skills" quipped Lord Reynold's already on his feet and heading towards the hatch
For his part Sam cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips "Quite sir!"
The side hatch hissed and swung open
Reynolds hopped down into the ground "Shall we"
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Reynolds shivered slightly in the cooler air. This far north was always several degrees colder than London.
I suppose the important question is... why am I in the land of the haggis chasers?
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Blair Castle, Blair Atholl, Scottish Highlands.
As he approached the castles great doors, Reynolds mentally recapped the discussion in London leading to this latest caper.
'A prominent member of the aristocracy and patron of experimental ethertech had been found unconscious in a coma in his Kensington Townhouse, the most likely suspect or perpetrator of his injuries, one Lady Fairshem who had suspiciously disappeared upon the offending evening.'
'Despite the incident being of little interest the fact that her Ladyship had fled north to the safety of Lord Justin Kincaid, The Lord of Kinloss, a known Republican and Fenian Sympathiser, had aroused significant concern within certain circles. Reynolds was to engage his agent Jame's Ambrose to locate Lady Fairshem and establish what she had purloined!'
To which end he had looked up a previous partner in crime, one familiar with Ambrose The Duke of Atholl, as he paused at the main stone steps he absently scratched at the perpetual itch of his forearm.
As he approached the castles great doors, Reynolds mentally recapped the discussion in London leading to this latest caper.
'A prominent member of the aristocracy and patron of experimental ethertech had been found unconscious in a coma in his Kensington Townhouse, the most likely suspect or perpetrator of his injuries, one Lady Fairshem who had suspiciously disappeared upon the offending evening.'
'Despite the incident being of little interest the fact that her Ladyship had fled north to the safety of Lord Justin Kincaid, The Lord of Kinloss, a known Republican and Fenian Sympathiser, had aroused significant concern within certain circles. Reynolds was to engage his agent Jame's Ambrose to locate Lady Fairshem and establish what she had purloined!'
To which end he had looked up a previous partner in crime, one familiar with Ambrose The Duke of Atholl, as he paused at the main stone steps he absently scratched at the perpetual itch of his forearm.
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Re: The Chronicles of Sebastian J. Reynolds
Reaching the huge aged doors, the oak stained dark almost to the point of being black, Reynolds came to a sudden halt.interesting... and just how is this particular peer aware of Ambrose? You say partner in crime what service to the criminal world does he perform?
The zep-shuttle wasn't exactly discreet so someone should have noticed their arrival. He had expected the doors to swing open as he approached. But they hadn't.
Frowning, a little suspicious, he glanced back at Sam who was unloading their bags.
Returning his attention to the doors once more he raised his cane and hammered the mace like pommel on the door several times.