Malkin

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

I am still in the game. Start nights tomorrow so no problems with keeping tempo up this week. Moving house in two weeks so might be off line for a few days, Sky says the wifi should be up and running on arrival, but we all know what means .....

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer smiled sarcastic at the eccentric new arrival and said sharply.

“Of course beauty is a subjective matter and this is business, not a childish adventure. Making up infantile stories are nothing more than that, stories. For all I know, Good Sir, you could be cohorts with this unseen Benefactor, walking in and blithely signing contracts in an attempt to encourage us to follow your foolishness”

Turning to the Pianist, he sat himself upright and looked her clearly in the eyes and again spoke sharply and clearly. Her look of frustration did not slip by unnoticed. A slight chink in the armour perhaps, despite all her beauty, perfume and flowery language just human after all.....

“Whether you are suitably impressed by the Benefactor or not has no relevance to me. It is me he needs to impress if he requires my services. The good Detective here is clearly of a similar mind to my own. Illegality is not something to be embarked on lightly, especially for men in positions like ours. I have also yet to read a contact that a man can walk away from unscathed”

Spencer sighed and seemed to deflate slightly.

“Dear Lady, I fear I have spoken to sharply to you. You have been put in an unenviable position with a rather uncompromising person. I do hope you do not take all I say as a personal assault.”

Spencer sat back in his chair and paused, as if concentrating.

“If, as you say the first task asked of us is relatively unchallenging and your Benefactor provides a demonstration of his skills that are acceptable enough to persuade me he has the talent to provide me with my hearts desire, then, I will reconsider signing this contact”

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

@Eschatologist Apologies, not trying to be overly difficult about placing a thumb on to a contract, just didn't feel that he with blithely sign a contract without asking at least a few questions about it.

Also I am not being intentionally dismissive of you other guys, we can get to that bit in as it develops.

Peace

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Throughout her monologue Spencer's eyes never left her face. Not for a second, not even when that strange sounding creature entered. He watched every moment of her lips, how the shadows cast on her face changed the tone of her skin and how her eyes danced between them. He assumed she was beautiful, to a man with the appropriate ...'Equipment' he believed she would be lust worthy, Spencer wasn't admiring her beauty, he was looking for deceit, uncomfortably for him he found none, well nothing perceivable to him anyway. This did not sit right with him, nobody was this truthful in business, ever.

Spencer began to chuckle when he saw the tan creature place his thumb print on the paper. What a fool, he thought.

“My dear lady” he said, still chuckling “I have spent many years of my short life and many life times fortunes travelling the world; I have visited every physician, every doctor, every surgeon who was ever recommended to me” He lent forward now and lower his voice “I have visited every witch shaman and wizard I ever came across. None have ever been able to provide me with my hearts desire, none have even come close. What makes me think your Benefactor can provide me with what I desire? What insurance do I have if I complete what is being asked of me and your Benefactor fails to keep his side of the contract? Explain to me what binds your Benefactor to us?”

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer offers the women a smile, a genuine one this time. For he believed that he had identified exactly what was about to occur ….

...many years before today Spencer had been assisting an Envoy in some far flung place in the West Indies, when, quite by chance, he met a Professional Gambler that had done business with one of his uncles when they were young men. The Gambler was now an old man with many stories to tell, of vast fortunes won and lost. Sensing this man had much to offer Spencer spent as much of his free time with this man. Now, to most decent people, this Gambler would be considered a rouge, not a man to be trusted, and to be sure he wasn't but, he was old and could see something of himself in Spencer, so proceeded to induct him into some of the trick of his trade. Now he didn't consider the use of these ploys 'cheating' as such, more like 'levelling the field'. One of his favourite ploys was to hire the prettiest prostitute he could find, scrub her up and put her in a dress and have her accompany him for the evening, not for his own ego, but as a glorious distraction to the others there …..

…..and this is what Spencer believed he was walking into now, not that he believed this lady was a prostitute but she was placed here as a distraction, a figure head, a focal point to keep his attention away from …. well what?....

Spencer offered no indication as to whether he was surprised by being referred to by name and clearly, she was a lady of class and occupying such a room, potentially of influence so could be put to good use as a useful ally.

“My dear lady” offered Spencer as he sat down “Enchanted to meet you, I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting, this place is so enchanting and find myself easily distracted” He met her eyes and he spoke softly and slowly, forming each work carefully and precisely and placed them in front of the beautiful women

Turning to Miles and speaking with the same soft tones and offered Miles his hand

“Good sir, a pleasure to meet you at last”

Spencer often did this, embellishing the truth slightly. He believed that by making people think he knew more than them it kept them on the back foot and gave him the edge.

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer listened to the Barman politely, making the right noises at the right times and encouraging him to speak, not that he needed much encouragement. To be fair to the Barman he could spin a fine yarn, but that's all they were, Spencer was sure, just fine tales that surely get more fantastical at each telling. No civilised place would allow a murderer to escape so easily. Although, he barely thought of this place as civilised, he used the term loosely.

Something nagged at him, he knew this feeling, it was a feeling he often felt, a strange tugging at his navel, a slight pause in his breathing as he attempted to focus his mind on what the barman had said, attempting to string his thoughts into a coherent stream...

“The pianist..” he whispered

Quickly unhooking his bag he pulled out the note he had received “The Singing Mandrake” wondering if the two could be connected he resolved to find out.

“Sir, as I am sure is clear I am neither poet a sculptor” Spencer said to the Barman with a smile.

“Nor am I local, but I do have some business to attend to in the city. Some business of a rather delicate nature, that takes a fair amount of discretion to be exercised by all those involved and of course being a man of business, much like yourself, first impressions in business are of the utmost importance” During all of this, Spencer was watching the Barman, identifying words, subtly adjusting tone and pitch until he could see what he was saying and how it was being said was resonating with the Barman.

“Now the problem is thus” he continued, leaning towards the Barman and lowering his voice “I have been informed that 'The Singing Mandrake', whether it is a place or person I do not know, is what I need to find, all I ask of you, a very simple request really, is some information about this place. I do not intend to conduct this business hamstrung... Of course this being business and both of us businessmen it will of course cost me your time” Spencer produced a fist full of money “A mere business expense, easily written off”

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer walked round as many of the restaurants as he dare and getting more and more downhearted each new place he visited. After his second visit he finally settled on the Speared Whale, due mainly to the clientèle that appeared to frequent it, hoping that their attire belayed at least some form of class in an otherwise poor choice of establishment.

Spencer found himself a table close to a group of some of the better dressed men in the bar area in an attempt at overhearing some of their conversation. All he needed was lead, anything really, a name, a street anything to at least get him started. He had dismissed asking outright about the The Singing Mandrake, for all he knew he could be a criminal, he'd had quite enough of those types of scandals to last him a lifetime.

It was maybe the words that the girl offered him or, more likely his mothers advice, that spurred him to be friendly and polite to the barman whilst ordering his food. His mother always warned him about being rude to those who cooked and served your food especially when you could not see into the kitchen....

Spence ate quickly, he had no idea what he had just consumed, the name it was given on the menu gave him no clue to its ingredients, but it was hot and tasted nutritious. Placing his cutlery carefully on his plate he picked up his drink and eyed the other patrons of the Speared Whale and contemplated his next move.

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer watched the girl go and offered her back a slight shrug.

“Suit yourself” he thought

He smoothed the note out with the back of his hand and read it, then read it again. Even on the third reading he could make no sense from the letter which he left on the table. Lifting his bag from the floor he unclipped it and reached inside,

“A poor attempt at lifting his wallet” he decided and resolved to be keep his distance from these delinquents next time.

He was frustrated at what he perceived to have been a missed opportunity and was contemplating the girls words when his hand brushed his gun and, for a brief second he placed his palm against the varnished grip, intending to slip it into his suit pocket. Instead he reached for his cigarette case and his pen. He clipped up his bag and slipped a cigarette out of the ornate silver case which he lit with a flourish.

Spencer doodled idly on the note the girl had left him, he gave the face devil horns and corrected the poor spelling. He was still hungry and decided that his mood could only be elevated by a hot meal. Taking a long drag, he stubbed his cigarette out and sets off in search of an eatery.

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

Spencer was attempting to get his thoughts in order, attempting to make sense of the sights his eyes were being assaulted with. He never imagined he would ever find himself in such a fantastical place, a man with a squid for a face?! This though triggered something deeper with in him, it had been a while since he had eaten a good meal and he was always been partial to calamari, he turned to see if he could find 'squid face' again.....

The little voice made him jump …. he cast his blue eyes onto the form of the girl, appraising her worth and value. He made his conclusion quickly. Seeing this level of poverty inflicted on a child always made him feel awkward and in turn, made his response more terse then he intended it to be.

“Well?” Said Spencer sharply.

Spencer took the letter from the girl being careful not to touch her hand, there are some terrible skin diseases out there you know …. Holding the letter by its least fouled corner Spencer made his way to a some tables and chairs belonging to a nearby café and placed the letter on a handkerchief he had removed from his pocket. Spencer did not wish to appear to keen to read the letter, any observers working for this 'Singing Mandrake' would surely report this back and he didn't want this person knowing they could influence him so with a meagre letter.

He pushed the letter to the edge of the table and beckoned the girl over to the table.

“Please, sit. Let me get you a drink to thank you for delivering such an important letter to me” this was not much offered as a request, more as a direction to join him ...

The Sunken City: A Journey through Fallen London

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