It's a somewhat windy, but sunny Spring morning that greets Frederick Gamby this day.
Reading the morning paper over breakfast reveals little of interest. The big story of late involves a Conservative MP known for his firm belief in family values being revealed as a frequent customer of an S&M parlour down in Soho. No doubt he'll be looking for a new job by tomorrow.
And speaking of jobs, Frederick has is own business to look out for...
OOC: Ok, Merc, feel free to describe your house/apartment & shop as you like. Within reasonobviously.
Gamby sighs as he puts down the cup of coffee he had been drinking, as well as the morning paper, both onto the modest wooden table decorating the center of his kitchenette. Pushing the chair back as he stands up, he stretches as he drags himself towards the door to the side, leading to his room.
There, he grabs some random clothes from his dresser, a light yellow collared shirt and some brown dress pants, before tossing his pajamas onto his bed. Once dressed, he exits through the kitchette and down the stairs leading to the shop below, his pride and joy.
Today would be an interesting day, as he would have to leave his assistant, one Sarah Robertson, alone with the store for the first time. The 18-year old girl had expressed interest in magic and the pay he offered had satisfied her, but most importantly, was capable and willing to work most of the hours the shop was open. He felt he could trust her to watch things while he dealt with his side job, having gotten to know the young girl over the past few weeks since he'd hired her. Of course, she would not start for a few hours still, leaving him to the process of opening shop by himself.
Locking the door to upstairs behind him, he pushed some red curtains aside which hid the back wall to the store where the stairs were. This was the "stage" he occassionally performed from, and as he walked towards the front of the store, he passed some book racks filled with book of magic, followed by rows of open merchandise to one side, with the cash register and a glass case on the other, the glass case holding his collection of magic rarities such as autographed items from famous magicians and expensive props.
Unlocking the security gate and sliding it upwards, he opens his doors to the warm British outdoors, before taking a seat besides the cash register, and making the usual wait for some potential customers.
OOC: I'll give you some basic bio for the Sarah NPC once I wake up, or feel free to make something up yourself. G'night, Usagi-san! >_>
The morning passes quietly enough. A few mothers with young children, and the occasional grandparent searching for a gift make up the most of your business on weekdays when everyone else is either working or at school.
It's getting towards lunchtime when a middle aged man in a dark brown tweed suit enters, sparing little time for the items on sale as he approaches the till directly. He's tall, and thin to the point of cadaverous, yet wears a disarming smile beneath his Chaplin-esque mustache.
"Good morning, Mr Gamby," he greets you, "Or should I say, The Illusion? For I'm afraid this isn't a social visit."
Of course, you recognise him as the man who recruited you into the British Library, although the only name you have for him is 'Mr Jack' which you aren't sure is a pseudonym or not.
Though not having expected an assignment today, Frederick Gamby rises from his seat besides the cash register and greets his British Library co-worker.
"Good morning, Mr. Jack," Frederick Gamby says as he starts to move towards the front door, fiddling with a sign in his hand. "I'll be with you in a moment. My assistant won't be here for another hour, so I need to close my shop for the moment."
Upon reaching the front door, he hangs one of those "Out to Lunch. Will be back at:" signs with a clock drawn on it. Its arrows point to 1pm. Locking the door behind him, he motions his companion towards the back of the shop.
"Let's talk upstairs."
Mr Jack nods, allowing you to lead him upstairs. He begins before either of you really have a chance to get settled, however. "Not to beat around the bush, Mr Gamby, but the British Library was robbed in the early hours of last night."
He waits after that statement, as if to gauge your reaction.
Gamby frowns, and looks at Mr. Jack as if he were joking or had antlers coming out of his head. "What do you mean robbed? It's the British Library, for god's sake. It doesn't just get robbed!"
"It does," your guest affirms. "We simply happen to be very thorough about regaining what we may lose." He smiles, "Don't look so appalled, Mr Gamby, it's not as serious as it may sound. No international gang of thieves penetrated the heart of the Library here in London. No, it was a far more common theft."
He produces an a4 sized manilla folder from his jacket and places it on the coffee table. "We are in the habit of lending our rarer items to musems around the world, after all. And in this case, it appears that local security arrangements were at fault."
Ah, that I can understand. The British Library itself getting assaulted would require an amazing amount of...
Derailing from the negative thoughts, Gamby nods to his companion, now believing his robbery claim. Leaning over the table to grasp the folder, he begins to browse through it with a serious expression, curious to see what they've found out so far about the thieves and who he'd be working with, if anyone.
The folder contains photographs of what appears to be an unloading area/garage built into an old style brick building. You can't see much of anything to infer the actual location, though.
The first three photographs all show the area from the same vantage point, with a clock in the bottom left indicating it's likely CCTV stills. The remaining ones show the outside and inside of the garage, the light levels looking like they were taken in the day, compared to the darkness of the CCTV stills.
Nothing particularly illuminating, however. There's also a typed report of some sort, but before you have a chance to read it, Mr Jack speaks.
"We were lending String Quartet No. 2 in D major - the original sheet music, by Mozart to the Vienna museum of art and history. However, from the looks of it, the security staff at the museum were all incapacitated before the truck carrying the manuscript arrived. Delivery went off without anything suspicious, and the thieves then likely escaped sometime between 11pm and midnight, local time.
"We have our suspicions as to who is responsible, but the local police are being stubbornly incompetent - which only serves to heighten our suspicions."
"So, what are your plans for me then? To infiltrate the police and find suspicious activity?" Gamby asks curious if that was their best lead at the moment.
"Perhaps that avenue may be worth exploring," Jack acknowledges. "Especially if our suspicions are wrong. However, first we would like you to investigate a Mr Henriech Meyer. He's a wealthy oligarch with strong ties to the Austrian government - notably their justice department. There's more details in that file there, but the gist of it is that he's been peripherally associated with several art thefts in the last two decades. Nothing directly suspicious, and certainly no evidence ever recovered, but you know how it goes with these types...
"Notably, he is known to have an extensive collection of his own, which he takes great pains to keep out of the public eye."
Pausing a moment, Jack adds, "I must admit, all this exposition is leaving me dreadfully parched. I don't suppose I could trouble you for a cup of tea?"
"Oh, of course," the embarrassed German replies as he stands up and heads towards the electric stove. "My apologies, Mr. Jack, you'd think I'd be a better host given how long I've lived in this country. I'll start boiling some water right away."
Doing just that, he turns around and asks, "Do I have an identity set up for me, or will I have to manage something on my own?"
"This isn't an undercover assignment, The Illusion," Jack replies, shaking his head. "We don't particularly care about getting evidence or bringing Mr Meyer to trial. We simply want our manuscript back.
"Once you arrive in Vienna, you'll liase with Inspector Bertrand of Interpol. He's one of our men, so you can trust him. His own investigation is somewhat stymied by the local authorities, but he'll offer full support in our own more... unorthodox methods.
"If it becomes necessary, you can of course request further assets from head office. But we'd like you to get the lay of the land, so to speak, before committing too much."
As he finishes his little spiel, your kettle emits a low whistle as the water is boiled.
Gamby nods as he turns off the heat and pulls the kettle away from the heat. Pouring it slowly into two cups, with some tea bags, he then places the kettle back on the stove, on a cooled spot and carries the tea cups to the table.
"When will I have to leave then?" he asks once he's seated once more.
Jack takes one of the cups and takes a few sips. "Ah, good show," he nods approvingly. "Yes, we've booked you on a flight to Vienna at half past eight tomorrow morning - should give you time to get things in order, here. What's the name of that girl you have running things?"
"Sarah Robertson. I hired her a while back for situations like this, though to be honest, today was going to be the first day she would have alone with the store," Gamby says with a small frown. "Well, I trust she'll be acclimated enough with the job to handle the shop alone for a few days, so it shouldn't be a problem."
"I'm sure she can handle it," Jack nods. "A woman's touch might even do this place a spot of good, don't you think?" he grins rakishly before assuming a more composed demeanour. "Anyway, you should find some basic information in that folder - read it before you go out there. We'll have someone pick you up at the airport and drive you to the police station Inspector Betrand is operating out of."
Gamby resists the urge to reply to the 'woman's touch' comment, and simply nods as he takes a sip from his cup of tea. "Very well."
"Good show, good show," Mr Jack nods, draining most of his tea. "Anyway, you'll probably know more than me after you've spent a day on-site, but is there anything you'd like me to go over before you leave? I'm afraid I can't dally about for too long - this robbery isn't the only thing I have to deal with, today."
"No, no, I should be fine," Gamby replies with a polite smile. "If you have other appointments I won't hold you back."
"Very well, then," Mr Jack finishes off his tea, briefly holding up his cup in a semi-salutory gesture before replacing it on the coffee table. "Best of luck, and don't get in over your head."
He turns to leave, before pausing. "Dash, almost forgot," he reaches into his coat pocket and hands produces a plane ticket which he leaves on the table as well. "You'll be needing that, after all," he smiles, before leaving. "I'll see myself out, thanks."
Picking up the planet ticket and slapping it against his palm, he sighs. Finishing his tea, he goes downstairs to reopen the shop and wait for Sarah to pass on the instructions and responsibility.
Business picks up a little in the next hour or so, making a few sales before Sarah arrives with a sunny smile. "Afternoon, Fred," she greets you, coming behind the counter. "How's things, today?"
"Hello, Sarah," Gamby greets the teenager. "Store's running smoothly as it always is."
As he steps away from the counter he pauses briefly before he asks, "Oh, before I leave you alone for today, I wanted to know if I could extend the time you're in charge of the store. I'm afraid some business has come up and I won't be able to open the store for a day or two." And hopefully not more...
"Nothing bad, I hope?" the girl asks, leaning forward with a concerned look on her youthful features.
"Not at all, but thank you for the concern." Gamby smiles before elaborating somewhat.
"A colleague of mine visited today and asked if I could take his place relating to some museum business that he is unable to make due to timing issues."
"Oh? Where are you going?" your employee presses, resting an elbow on the counter as she settles in. "Anywhere interesting?"
"I'll be going to Vienna, and if it's not interesting..." Gamby says with a grin, and pausing for dramatic purposes as he puts on a magic hat, he finishes with, "Well, Frederick Gamby'll just have to make it interesting, won't he?"
Sarah giggles lightly at your showmanship. "I bet you will," she smiles. "Austria, eh? My brother went there a few years ago... I'm sure the place has lots of great culture, but all he did was get drunk the whole time." She shakes her head amusedly.
"Anyway, I shouldn't have any problems being here all day tomorrow. But is it alright if I close a bit earlier than usual the day after? One of my friends is coming back from America, and I said I'd pick her up from the airport."
"Sure, I don't mind. I would have to close the store without you around after all. Thanks again, by the way," Gamby replies, quite thankful.
"Alright, then," Sarah nods. "Actually, my dad's birthday is coming up, so earning a little bit extra this week will come in pretty handy."
She grins mischeviously as she idly produces a deck of cards and shuffles them, not really seeming aware of what her hands are doing. "I'll try not to burn the place down while you're gone."
Gamby raises an eyebrow, and replies with a grin, "If you do, it comes out of your paycheck."
"Eheheh," she giggles a little bit strained. "I'll be good, promise."
Quickly changing the subject, she holds up the deck of cards she'd been shuffling, spreading them out in a fan-formation, face down. "Pick a card!" she asks cheerfully.
Gamby does so, and looking at the four of hearts asks, "Mastered a new trick?"
"Heh heh heh," the girl chuckles confidently, placing the remaining cards face down on the counter before placing her right index finger against her temple and closing her eyes. "Is your card..." she abruptly extends her right hand, snapping her fingers as the Queen of Hearts appears between them, "This one?!"
"Nope, it was the..." Gamby replies as he leans down, looking at her in the eyes. Activating his abilities, he runs a little illusion on the cards and flips them all to reveal all the cards as four of hearts. "...the four of hearts!"
"Huh?" Sarah looks very startled for an instant, before recovering her composure with remarkable alacrity. "But as you can see, that's the one I..." she trails off and pouts, "Aww, phooey. You're too good for me."
"Just so you know, you pulled the queen of hearts," Gamby replies as he drops the illusion once her eyes leave the cards and starts heading upstairs. "Anyhow, I'm off to pack. Ask your brother for some bar recommendations if you have time later by the way."
Sarah continues pouting as she begins arranging all the cards face up on the counter. "I'll win, one day..." she grumbles.
Gamby smirks and shakes his head, having heard her grumbles. Truth be told, Sarah was just a little better with pulling off card tricks successfully than him.
So long as he didn't cheat anyhow.
'I love having special powers,' he thinks pleasantly as he heads to his room.
Your room is found much as you left it, awaiting whichever packing decisions you might make...
OOC: Just tell me when you want to be skipped along.
After packing clothing for a week, just to be safe, Gamby goes read up the information from the folder that Mr. Jack left, to see if there's anything else of worth in the information.
OOC: After one last look through the folder, I guess.
Aside from the photographs you already glanced at, you're now able to get a proper read of the document contained within.
Page one is a crime scene report written by a detective Schultz of the Austrian Police. This includes statements from the British Library people delivering the manuscript, and an identikit picture of the man who took the delivery. The face looks almost painfully nondescript, the only distinguishing features being a weak chin and a nose that's slightly out of proportion with the face in its length.
After that comes a British Library report on Heinreich Meyer. Lots of information here, although you're not entirely sure which parts are relevant. It does detail all of his property - offices, warehouse and a penthouse in Vienna, several factories and depots throughout Austria and Slovakia, and a large mansion in the countryside of Lower Austria. It also details his links with prominent politicians, captains of industry, and several currently incarcarated criminals. Quite the old boys network going on, there...
Gamby releases a small whistle of admiration for the reach that Meyer has as he continues to browse through. Once he finishes, he places the deliveryman's image at the front of the folder, followed by Meyer's property details, leaving the rest in order.
'Well, let's hope this all goes well...' he thinks.
And so, the rest of the day passes, going to bed early so you can wake up at some ungodly hour and get to the airport in time for your flight. Several hours after that, you find yourself in Vienna international airport, wondering exactly what to do next...
Oh, wait. After picking up your luggage and milling around a little, you do spot a swarthy young man holding a card with 'Frederick Gamby' on it, amongst the sea of other such missives. He looks somewhat irritated being hemmed in by the various chauffeurs and the like around, frowning and puffing on a stubby cigarette.
"Hello," Gamby greets as politely as one can while holding tightly to his belongings after walking up to the man. "I'm Frederick Gamby."
"Ah, finally," the young man remarks, expasparation fairly clear even in his artifically crisp and unaccented English. "Was beginning to think you'd never make it. I am inspector Ahmed Berkel of Interpol," he briefly flashes a badge, albeit too quick for you to make anything out but the barest glimpse.
"I apologize for the delay Inspector, but you know how flights can be," Gamby replies with a nod. "Was Inspector Bertrand busy?"
Ahmed snorts. "Yes, very busy," he says, sarcasm pretty clear in his tone. "I'll take you to him," he adds, turning and starting towards what you imagine is the exit, making no move to assist you with your luggage. "Follow me."
Gamby does so, with a raised eyebrow, wondering what this man's problem seems to be.
Ahmed isn't particularly talkative, eventually leading you to a black BMW in the parking lot. He does smile slightly as he uses a remote on his keychain to unlock the car, however. Opening the boot, he finally does speak, "But your bags in here. It's an hours drive to the station."
Not sticking around to help with that, he heads around and gets into the driver's seat.
'Chatty fellow, isn't he? This will be a fun hour drive,' Gamby notes wryly to himself as he drops his luggage in the back, before joining the inspector in the front of the car. "Ready."
Inside the car is clean and comfortable at least. There's even a siren on the dashboard if you are so inclined to play with such things!
Turning the ignition, Ahmed wastes no time in driving out of the car park, only pausing for a moment at the barrier before you're on your way onto the autobahn.
It's a sunny day in Austria, although you saw that well enough from the plane. Still, after about ten minutes of cruising along, the silence starts growing more and more oppressive...
"So. How did you get stuck with babysitting me?" Gamby asks in a joking fashion trying to obliterate the oppressive silence, even if by all indications he doesn't really like the inspector.
"Hmph!" Ahmed snorts unhappily. "That bastard Bertrand, just because he has seniority, he makes me do everything. He's so worthless and lazy..." he turns his attention off the road to look at you for a moment, "Don't expect a bit of help from him in your investigations, I'll tell you that!"
Gamby frowns at that. "Well, I hope you're mistaken this once if he is indeed 'worthless and lazy'. He might have information that could aid me while I'm here."
"Unless you're investigating bars, I wouldn't bet on it," Ahmed replies sourly.
Pondering on the matter for a bit, Gamby asks finally, "What do you expect him to do when I arrive then? Have you continue to aid me?"
"He better not," Ahmed mutters, before speaking up, "I'm sure the good detective will give you all possible assistance that falls under his remit."
Was that sarcasm? Most likely.
Deciding a pleasant conversation is beneath the sulking inspector, Gamby goes silent again, wondering how much longer this drive will be.
Time seems to drag on interminably as your grumpy companion winds off the autobahn and through Vienna's congested city streets, but eventually you reach the police station, an old building in gothic style, overshadowed by more recent construction.
From there, Ahmed takes you up to the second floor, past the local police, to a door with a hastily taped up paper sign reading 'Interpol'. Not bothering to knock, he marches right in.
It's a barren office space, nothing more than a desk, filing cabinet, and chair. Seated at the desk is a dark haired European gentleman in a shirt and tie, reading the local paper. Looking up, he says something in French which you can't understand, although Ahmed's name is heard in there. For his part, Ahmed doesn't look too thrilled at being addressed, replying irately in the same language.
Gamby makes a small face as they enter the room, thinking 'This is an Interpol location? With a...paper sign?'
He observes the new man brieflt as he talks with Ahmed, wondering if this is Bertrand, before interrupting. "Uh, hello? Terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I only follow English and German."
"Ah, sorry," Bertrand says in German, standing up and offering his hand. "My German is better, and it's what everyone else around here speaks, so we'll stick with that. You'll have to excuse poor Ahmed, though - he's not very fluent," he finishes with a slightly smug smirk, glancing at his colleague, who bristles but doesn't reply.
"Uhm, yes well, you've been informed as to why I'm here, correct?" Gamby asks as he too switches to German, while tossing an apologetic look towards Ahmed.
"Yes, some manuscripts were stolen," Bertrand nods. "Say, Ahmed, why don't you go get some tea for our guest, will you? Milk and one sugar for me."
Ahmed sticks around long enough to hear your own order before departing, leaving you alone with the Frenchman.
"Take a seat, Mr Gamby," he goes on, seeming to relax once his 'partner' is out of the room. "I can call you that, right? Or does it have to be 'The Illusion' all the time?" he asks with a faint trace of mockery on your codename.
Gamby raises an eyebrow at the sardonic tone of voice. "Gamby is fine, but pick whichever you prefer, Inspector."