TURN FIVE (a)
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| Tyler Kensington-Caine Looked Absolutely a Fright. His Face was
Unspeakable Dirty. His Coat and Pants gave One the overall impression of
a Unfortunate Dingy Brown. His Shoes were Stolen off a Beggar who was,
no doubt, given to Long Walks. His Soft Hands, that had never known a
day's labour, were now filthy and concealed beneath Grimy Black Mittens.
His Hat was a Lumpy and Unattractive Affair, riding atop his Greasy and
Unkempt Hair, and His Scarf was a Grey Rag. His Misbegotten Teeth and
Speech were a Constant and Embarrassing reminder to All of His Poor
Breeding and Worse Upbringing. He Stank rankly of Perspiration. The Mission for Homeless Christians is a dark, cheerless building situated next to a slaughterhouse. Even from the end of the road your nostrils area assaulted by the smells of blood and excrement. There seems to be one large double door at the front of the building, leading onto the street. Both doors are wide open and there is a small group of men sitting on the steps, passing around a bottle and sharing a roll-up. From within the slaughterhouse there is a high-pitched, almost feminine scream of pain and terror as another unfortunate animal is slaughtered. Caine Didn't cover his Face with a Scented Handkerchief. Nor did he Wince at the Ghastly Cries that served only to Remind Him From Whence his Evening's Supper had Come. Professor Hodgeson watches Caine walk up the steps. "There goes a very brave, or foolish man" he mutters and the turns to Professor O'Shaunessy," I believe we should retire at bit down this alley so that we can observe and assist, if necessary." So saying he walks a few paces down the aley and makes himself comfortable on an empty packing crate. O' Shaunessy heads down the alley with the Professor. He takes a seat on an empty crate where he can keep an eye on the Professor and the end of the ally. "Well sir I hope we do not have to wait too long for something to happen." he says taking a pull from his flask." He leans back and puts his hands in his pockets to wait. (He is holding his pistol which is loaded with silver bullets in his right coat pocket "If Shalko is in there, our friend should be able to identify him in minutes! I suggest that we give him 20 minutes and then go in ourselves. We could pose as health inspectors or some other type of civil servant." Comes from the Professor. At the top of the steps is a brown robed man whom you take to be one of the Holy Brothers who run the Mission. Caine climbed the Stair with Lowered Eyes. When He reached the Top, He Pulled His Soft Cap off His Filthy Head, held it in His Dirty Mittens and stared at the Brother's Feet. Tyler Kensington-Caine said: "Please Gov'nah, I was seekin' a bed, seein' as 'ow I've no playce to go. I'll be no fuss a' tol, a bloody drop don't pass me lips, a teetotal am I. Please, Sir." "If you can find a bed..use it," is the gruff and rather uncharitable reply, "if you can't ..find a space on the floor and call it home. Come and go as you please, everyone else does." With a rather sour look on his face the man waves his hand towards the interior of the building. Caine said, "Thanks, Gov'nah. Much obliyged," replaced his Horrible Hat atop his Odious Head and Entered the Mission. All the interior walls have been removed and the ceiling is braced by long poles of wood. Every available space has been filled with bunk beds and the worst of humanity seems to be inhabiting them. Everywhere you look there seem to be people, but towards the back of the room there are a couple of unccupied bunks. Caine did Not Stare at the Perfectly Ghastly Conditions under which These Poor Wretches suffered. Trying to be as Discrete and Unnoticed as Possible, He moved Slowly toward the Center of this Hellish Spectacle of Squalid Humanity, and leaning against a Wall, took His Place within It. His Hands were in His Coat Pockets and His Head was Down. Caine surreptitiously Breathed through His Mouth. He let his Ears focus on the Voices around Him, and tried Especially to pick out the Tongues of Foreigners. After a short while, He Let His Blue Eyes gaze about the Room, careful to Never let them Rest anywhere too long. Caine began the Search for Anyone fitting the Description of Andrei Shalko. He took into account the possibility that Shalko might Very Well be Clean Shaven. After a time, He Moved slowly along to Another Spot on Another Wall and started again. A few yards further down the room he spies a man who is rubbing his chin, almost as though he is used to feeling something there. He is about five and a half feet tall and his clothes are little more than rags. With Discretion and Subtlety as the Watchword, Caine slowly approached the Chinrubber, with His Dingy Brown Countenance. Under the Pretense of Procuring a Cigarette, Caine would Endeavour to Glean a Better Appraisal of the Man. "Ay mayte," Caine said wearily, "Gaw tah rolla?" "Nah, " is the laconic response from the man, "but if you can find us some papers, I might have a little tobacco on my person." He seems quite friendly, and his accent is that of a well educated man. "Good is dun," croaked the Rank, Dank Caine. Caine Quickly arranged the Trade of a Small Coin for Papers with Another Vagabond. "Let's us fiynd a quiet sit," Caine said Exhaustedly upon Returning to the Man Who Might Be Andrei Shalko. "Step into my office, "he grins and leads the way out to the yard behind the building. No-one else is there at present and the gate leading out into the street is securely padlocked. Caine Collapsed into a Seated Position with a Content Sigh. He handed the Stranger the Papers. "Oy'm Archie," said Tyler Kensington-Caine. "Bert, " is the name that the man introduces himself by. He deftly rolls up a cigarette and striking a match on his boot, he greedily puffs the cigarette into life. After his first drag he passes the Cigarette over to 'Archie'. Caine took the Hand Rolled Cigarette and Smoked Relaxedly with Half Closed Lids and Sighed again. "Feels good to set, dunnit?" Caine Yawned and Cleared his Throat. He Spoke in a Slow, Well Modulated, Relaxing and Beautiful Voice: "Sometimes, Bert, I'm so tired..." He Smoked Dreamily, Delaying the Completion of his Sentence. "...I could... just... sleep....you know?" Caine intoned Quietly, Evenly and Gently. Bert'e eyes begin to glaze as he startes into Caine's and the words seem to put his mind at rest…and to sleep. The world disappears, swallowed by the ever increasing size on Caine's pupils. "There..... Sleep,... Bert," said Caine, "Sleep..... Relax....Rest..." Caine's Lovely, Calm and Encouraging Voice was a Soothing and Refreshing Cool Damp Cloth upon Bert's Fevered Brow. It said: "Bert..... Why... are... You... at... the... Mission... Tonight?" "Looking for a foreign man" is the reply, delivered in a voice free of Cockney accent. "Why... Ever... are.. you... Disguised... as... a... Tramp?" "Disguised so I don't frighten him off..or warn him that I am here" says Bert. "Who... Are... You,... Really?" "Sergeant Peter Dawson,…..a policeman." Caine Winced. Then a Smile Slowly Grew Upon His Filthy Face. "What... Is... This...Man's... Name?" "Andrei Shalko….we think" "How... Did... The.... Police...First... Learn... Of... Him?" "We received word from a discreet group of gentlemen who said that we might find it beneficial to observe the man." "Please,... Tell...Me... Everything... The... Police... Know...About... Him." "We know nothing more than his physical description and that he is from Europe and probably has a strong accent." "Please,... Tell... Me... Everything... About... This... Discreet... Group...of... Gentlemen." "Only the upper ranks know who they are…we just follow orders." "What... Reason... Would... The... Police... Have... To... Trust... Their... Word... In... This... Delicate... Matter?" "All we know is that they are well repected and their suggestions are treated like orders." "What... Other... Strategies... Have... the... Police... Devised... To... Apprehend... The... Limehouse... Killer?" "No others that I am aware of….apart from the usual patrols in the area." Caine's Beautiful Voice continued to Wash Over The Sham Vagabond. "Very... Good... Sergeant... Dawson.... Thank... You.... I'm.. Going.. to.. Awaken.. You.. Now.. and.. When.. I. Do. You. Shall. Remember. Nothing. Of. Our. Little. Conversation. However, Please Do Remember that When Next You See Sergeant Hodgkiss You Shall be unable to Not Remark upon The Famous Stage Performer and Renowned Escapologist, "Mister Impossible", and How, even now, You Still Cannot Possibly Begin to Fathom How He Managed His Astonishingly Clever and Utterly Inconceivable Escape from the Cuffs, Cells and Watch of Sergeant Hodgkiss and, verily, the Whole of Scotland Yard. In the Spirit of This Most Pleasurable Confoundment, You'll Heartily Encourage the Good Sergeant Hodgkiss to Endeavour to Join You in Taking in Another, no doubt Amazing, Performance of this Orchestrator of the Impossible, This Author of Spectacle, This Master of Prestidigitation, no Later than This Very Week. Please Don't Forget. When you Awaken You Shall Feel Rested, and Will Dwell Comfortably, Deep Within a Pleasant Sense of Happiness and Contentment. Now, You Shall Awaken Upon the Count of Three. One... Two... Three... Wewl, thanks for th' fag, Bert. Seeya 'roun'," said Tyler Kensington-Caine as he Crushed what Little Remained of the Makeshift Cigarette upon a Crate, Arose and Re-entered the Mission. 'Bert' looks a little lost for a second as Caine leaves him, but shakes his head a few times, as if to clear it, and then moves back into the Mission. Caine Made One Last Round of the Interior, Searching Carefully and Discretely for Shalko. He also Looked for Telltale Signs of a Would-be Scholar, such as Books or Papers, amoung the Property of the Destitute Residents. He then Checked for Shalko Amoung the Hopeless and Forgotten Men who Loitered Upon the Steps, and Around the Mission. Seeing no sign of anyone close to the description of Shalko Caine walks down the stirs and encounters the two Professors, who have left the alley on their way into the building to check that he is still alive. |