(set: $FileItems to 0)
(set: $scenes to 0)
The Empress was a relic of a bygone age. Its gilding was wearing away under the decay of the Great Depression. At one point, it was a marvel of Art Deco opulence. Maybe even a decade ago, it was the place to be for the East Hemingway socialites. Today, it was a decaying dive.
Of course, you met Kitty there when it was at its peak. Several years ago, while on a case, she became intrigued with you - for whatever reason. Kitty was an enigma in and of herself. Her connections, however -- with the social elite of the town, with the entertainment industry, with city officials -- had proven to be quite useful in your line of work, so you entertained her flights of fancy.
She was sitting at a crumbling booth under a dusty chandelier that lit the table with a dirty light. She was sipping a cocktail that looked more expensive than this place could now afford. At least the bartenders stll had pride in their jobs.
"What'll you have, Corbyn darling?" asked Kitty, as she waved a waiter over.
[[A Corpse Reviver]], you say, wearily, before sliding off your coat.
You scan over the menu - it's a tattered reprint of something from the Gilded Age. "[[A Mary Pickford]], please."
[[Old Fashioned]], no ice.
[[A negroni]], please," you nod at the waiter, handing back the aging menu.
(set: $drink to 'corpsereviver')
"Rode the night hard and put it away wet, did you?" Asked Kitty, with a sly grin.
"You could say that," you respond.
"It's a pity we couldn't all have the same treatment," she winked. You neglect to respond. Kitty seemed to love watching you squirm. She found it funny. Once you had asked if she did it because she was interested in you. She found that even funnier.
"Oh, you're no fun," she pouted dramatically. In front of her was a thick folder. The case. You stared at it. She pushed the folder forward.
(set: $ExploredFile to false)[[You opened the case.]](set: $drink to 'mary')
"Ooh, fancy," commented Kitty, "I haven't seen one of them in a dog's age. They're very sweet, aren't they?" She took a sip of her Sidecar.
You winked, "Nothing wrong with a little sugar." Kitty laughed, and pushed a thick folder forward.
(set: $ExploredFile to false)[[You opened the case.]](set: $drink to 'oldfashioned')
"Serious business tonight, aren't we?"
You remained silent, staring at Kitty. You often entertained her larger than life personality. TOday was not one of those days. She pouted dramatically.
"You're no fun, Corbyn." She sulked.
"I worked a hard case last week, Miss Robinson."
Kitty became more solemn. "A tragedy, that one." You decided not to asked how she knew what you had been up to.Fingers in many pies, that one. She stared out the grimy window, sadly, and motioned to the folder on the table.
(set: $ExploredFile to false)[[You opened the case.]](set: $drink to 'negroni')
"A classic!" exclaims Kitty, and held up her glass. It seemed you had chosen the same drink as she. You'd never live it down.
"We're meant for each other, Corbyn my love." She continued. THere she went trying to make you uncomfortable again.
"What about that case you were talking about?" You asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
"Yes, yes, we'll get to that," Kitty waved you away, "once you admit we're soul mates!"
You sigh, "Fine, Miss Robinson, we are soul mates," you responded robotically.
"Then call me Kitty, darling, we've known each other long enough." She pushed the folder in your direction.
"Thank you, Miss Robinson," you said, almost rebelliously. She huffed, but in good humour.
(set: $ExploredFile to false)[[You opened the case.]](if: $FileItems is < 6)[
(if: $ExploredFile is false)[Inside the case was a pile of documents, copies, photographs and other accoutrements of a jetsetting woman's life. You took a sip of your drink, flipping through the pages idly.
What do you examine first? ]
(else:)[You flipped through the file again. What do you pick up next?]
[[The photograph of the missing woman.]]
[[Photographs of her apartments.]]
[[The copies of her agenda.]]
[[Her travel papers.]]
[[A telegram, torn in half but pieced together by the police.]]
[[The case of calling cards and business cards.]]]
(else:)[
You close the file folder over and lean back in your seat. The waiter sweeps away an empty glass from in front of you and you motion for another.
"So what do you want me to do? Find her?": You ask.
Kitty nods. "The police can't, and she just seems so interesting."
"I don't know how you manage to get these away from the feds," you respond.
"Don't worry your pretty little head," she said, sweetly. "So will you take the case?"
[[Of course.]]
[[Not this time, thanks.]]]She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Her dark eyes seemed to pierce through you, even in a photograph. The shot was a glamour shot, not unlike the ones that emblazoned advertisements for silver screen films. Her face was clear, and her hair was piled up on the top of her head. A Gibson Girl. The woman in the photograph looked to be in her mid-20s.
The edges were vibrant, but the centre of the photograph was faded, as if it had been sitting in a frame in a sunny window.
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the photograph back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]The apartments looked pretty typical. Nothing seemed out of place. They were decorated tastefully, if a bit over the top for your tastes. There were many plush, foreign textiles - pillows, curtains, wall hangings and rugs from far off lands. Table tops were decorated with expensive pottery, full of fresh cut flowers.
The bed did not look recently slept in.
"Her maid cleaned that day before Miss Saunders was discovered to be missing," piped in Kitty, helpfully. You nodded.
On top of the wardrobe sat a collection of hat boxes. Miss Saunders' clothing was neatly arranged. She certainly didn't seem to have expected to disappear.
There seemed to be nothing remarkable about the apartments or their contents, but getting a closer eye yourself would probably prove more useful than a photograph.
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the photographs back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]The agenda was not minutely planned like many are. Major appointments were noted. A doctor's appointment two days ago, "Tea with Mother" on Tuesday. No doubt the police had already probed those avenues. The only question mark in your mind was the appointment for an evening rendez-vous a week from when you met Kitty.
"C.H." was all that was noted, next to the time 7pm. No place was given. This Veronica Saunders was in terrible need of a clerical assistant, you thought.
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the agenda back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]You picked them up, and flipped briefly through the pages, and set it down again. Obvious fakes to someone as experienced with forged papers as you, and the affixed photograph had gotten lost at some point. This was completely useless, except to maybe suggest that Veronica Saunders was born with a different name.
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the passport back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]//VERONICA (stop) DON'T GO TO EH (stop) YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED (stop) STAY AWAY (stop)//
Was it a warning, or a threat? No signature accompanied the message, and it seems to have been sent to Veronica from an East Hemingway post office, judging by the branch number. Clearly, Veronica didn't listen. It had been addressed to somewhere in Atwood Sound. A ritzy looking address, judging by the street name. And all the way across the country.
This Veronica Saunders had travelled a good distance to get herself in trouble.
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the telegram back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]A handful of the cards were from Atwood Sound, and completely useless. You set those aside.
The rest were local. ONe in particular caught your attention. It was for the Club Helena. One of the few places in East Hemingway that didn't seem to have been touched by the tarnish of Black Tuesday. It was the new watering hole of the social elite. Marked in pencil on the card next to a reservation notice was //Hadley, by invitation only.//
(set: $FileItems to it + 1)
(set: $ExploredFile to true)[[You put the card case back in the file and picked up the next item->You opened the case.]]Kitty shrugged, and smiled her bright, Hollywood smile.
"That's alright, darling. Here, your drink's on me."
USE DISCOUNT CODE FREEDRINK for 5% off one future purchase. This discount code will not expire, but can only be used once per customer. So use at your leisure!Kitty grinned, and leaned back.
"I knew you would. Once you have found Veronica Saunders, you will get the rest of your payment." She pulled out a cheque. The number on it was tempting.
"So, where to next?"
"[[Can you get me into Club Helena? ->Club Helena.]]"
"Of Course, Darling. It's a date." She responded, without a care, as if getting into the most exclusive club in town was no different than going to church on Sunday.
"[[I think Wychwood Park is the first course of action. See if I can find something the police missed. ->Wychwood Park.]]"
"If you like," she responded, equally as careless. "In any case, the day is getting on, and you (if: $drink is 'corpsereviver')[need to sleep off that wild night you had." She winked again, told the waiter to put the evening on her tab, and left with her regular flourish.](else-if: $drink is 'mary')[need to work off that sugar rush, darling! What a candy cocktail that is." She laughed, teasing you gently. She told the waiter to put the evening on her tab, and left with her regular flourish.](else-if: $drink is 'oldfashioned')[need to relax, my oh-so-serious Corbyn." She pouted dramatically, again. You sighed. She told the waiter to put the evening on her tab, and left with her regular flourish.](else-if: $drink is 'negroni')[need to start planning our marriage!" Kitty laughed. You squirmed. That only made her laugh more. She told the waiter to put the evening on her tab, and left with her regular flourish.](Set: $scenes to it + 1)
The apartments were untouched from when the police photos were taken. Still immaculately clean and tastefully curated, if somewhat plush. The room was scented with fresh cut flowers, soft lingering perfume and a sweet cigar smoke. On the vanity was a small ming vase decorated with a pair of sparrows. It was filled with a dozen fresh cut roses. The rest of the expensive pottery held lilies and irises.
A pair of beeswax tapers with blackened wicks sat on a low table near the chaise lounge next to a dog-eared pulp detective novel. This amused you somewhat. Those stories never quite captured the long stakeouts and utter tedium of your day to day work of following unfaithful husbands and injured persons who may or may not have been acting for a payout - something that was becoming more and more common as the economic situation worsened.
There was a light layer of dust on the mantle that was undisturbed, probably for several days. Quite the thorough job the police seemed to have done.
You opened the drawers of the vanity. Inside were a selection of lipsticks, and a black tablet of some sort of make up. Next to them were envelopes of brightly coloured powders. The same ones in your case envelope.
Next, you walked toward the bed and swept your hand between the mattress and box spring. Your fingers bumbed against a filled envelope of some sort.
[[Open the envelope.]](set: $scenes to it + 1)
Both luxurious and opulent did not come close to describing Club Helena. Everyone there was dressed to the nines, including your companion. She had insisted on dressing you to match.
"You'll stick out like a sore thumb looking that that," She had said. And so there you were, in uncomfortable clothing, holding an equally uncomfortable drink, and holding uncomfortable conversations with people who were the epitome of East Hemingway Glamour.
Kitty had wandered off being her regular, social-butterfly self. You sat at your booth on your own, observing the crowd.
A middle-aged woman sidled into the booth across from you. She looked s if she had lived an easy life, but there was a sense of anxiety about her. Her eyes were darkened with some type of kohl, which made her brown eyes the focus, and she seemed to wear her newly emerging crow's feet with pride.
[[Who are you?]]
[[Evening, miss. I'm Corbyn.]]She looked unimpressed.
"That's rather rude," she responded, and picked up her drink. You shrugged.
The conversation remained small talk for some time as you attempted to recover and get some information from her. You did not glean much.
(if: $scenes is <2)[The rest of the night remained uneventful. Kitty continued to socialize, and you continued to be a wallflower. Perhaps you would find more answers at [[Wychwood Park.]]]
(else:)["My apologies for getting off on the wrong foot," you admitted finally. "I am here looking for someone."
The woman looked interested. "Oh?"
"A Mister Hadley? Do you know him?"
The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry, I don't. But you're looking at a Ms Hadley, if that suits you."
Your cheeks began to burn with mild embarassment.
"My apologies, Ms. Hadley. I was told by a friend, Veronica Saunders, to keep an eye out for Hadley here, and I just assumed --"
Ms Hadley looked even more amused than she had before. "Oh, did she? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you..." She trailed off inquisitively.
"[[Fox. Corbyn Fox.]]"]//Dear Miss Saunders,
Your invention intrigues us. Do not patent it until we have had an opportunity to examine it. Should you do so, you will not enjoy the outcome.
The Amphorae Society.//
The next document was a patent application with a bright red //CANCELLED// stamp across its face. You flipped through the pages, but all details had been strangely blacked out, like they had done to soldiers' letters during the war.
There was also another note, stained at the edges.
//WE TOLD YOU.//
(if: $scenes < 1)[[[Put the envelope in your briefcase. You have all the information you can get out of the room. You are nearly late to meet Kitty anyway. ->Club Helena.]]]
(else:)[[[Put the envelope in your briefcase. It's time to contact the Amphorae Society. ->Amphorae Society]]]
(set: $Briefcase to true)TO BE CONTINUED!
Check back in June for further clues - and hints in future Mystery cases!
For making it this far, use AMPHORA for Free Shipping on a future purchase!"Pleasure to meet you, Corbyn," she responded genially. Her smile was wide, and intensified the fine lines around her eyes - however, not in an unnattractive way. They made her look approachable and softened her features, which were still beautiful, even in her 50s.
"I am here looking for someone," you continued.
The woman looked interested. "Oh?"
"A Mister Hadley? Do you know him?"
The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry, I don't. But you're looking at a Ms Hadley, if that suits you."
Your cheeks began to burn with mild embarassment.
"My apologies, Ms. Hadley. I was told by a friend, Veronica Saunders, to keep an eye out for Hadley here, and I just assumed --"
Ms Hadley looked even more amused than she had before. "Well, you do know what they say about assumptions, don't you," she asked, laughing. You relaxed slightly. She very clearly was not particularly offended by your faux-pas.
"How do you know Miss Saunders?" she asked after a moment.
[[Well... ->Fox. Corbyn Fox.]]
(if: $Briefcase is true)["I was hired to help with her patent application," you responded simply. An expression flashed across Ms Hadley's face, although you could not tell what exactly it meant. It then quickly settled into one of disaffected amusement.
"Oh, were you now? A patent for what? That Veronica is an innovative one."
"That's just the thing, I was hoping you might be able to tell me." You responded. She looked mildly shocked.
"What - what do you mean," she asked, "how would I know?"
Your bluff wasn't going particularly well. "The copy she gave me was... not very detailed. She said she was meeting you here later this week. I had hoped to cut her to the chase."
She relaxed, visiby. "I - I suppose you're right. I had heard that her patent application was cancelled?"
You relented, finally. "She's missing, Ms Hadley."
"Is she now?" The woman sounded somewhat bemused. Or amused, it was dificult to tell.
"And I need to find her."
"Well, maybe we can make that happen." Ms. Hadley dropped a few bills on the table, lavishly. "Your drink's on me, Corbyn."
USE THE DISCOUNT CODE MSHADLEY FOR 10% OFF A FUTURE PURCHASE.]
(else:)["I'm investigating her disappearance," you respond simply. Ms. Hadley looks taken aback.
"Missing? Are you certain?" She asked, her eyes tracing over everything in the bar - except you.
"Very certain," you respond nonchalantly, "and she had a note in her effects that associate a Hadley with this place - was she speaking of you?"
"I don't see how she could be," yhe woman responded measuredly, and stood. "Well, I need to get on - your drink's on me."
USE THE DISCOUNT CODE MSHADLEY FOR 10% OFF A FUTURE PURCHASE.
Nothing of use to be gained here at the bar you fnally decide, after a few too many more drinks. Kitty never reappeared. You decided to head home to sleep it off, and then off to [[Wychwood Park ->Wychwood Park.]] in the morning.]