St. Mary's Hospital ~ Room 13

Jelinek pushed to the fore of the crowd and said, "Gentlemen, I'm surprised that so many practical men are leaping to such fantastic conclusions. Posession, dark gods, exorcism? You are sounding like my old teachers in seminary. Have we discounted the possibility that Wenton became just a bit too enthusiastic about his research and crossed the line from observer to participant? I mean, has anyone seen anything that would justify talk about the occult? We may be better served by speaking to an alienist ..."

Conrad speaks up, louder and more curt than he has previously in front of anyone present. "Jelinek, although I have not personally experienced these things, I know more about them than any sane person would ever care to. There has been enough evidence that passed the most scientific scrutinity that both the Germans and our own government have invested considerable resources in trying to harness and control them. Although I never saw the cause, I have seen the aftermath of such things. A raid of a German compound turned up bodies fused into walls and a wake of corpses...some...disemboweled, for lack of a more appropiate word, and some with no explainable cause of death. We know from our findings that the Germans were experimenting with forces from other dimensions. If there were not convincing evidence that such things might exist, I would never have been hired by the military. I pray that you are right, that Wenton has passed from observer to participant, it would make our lives a easier. However I would heed our friends advice and not touch the knife, and to destroy it if possible."

Moriarity nodded his appreciation to Conrad and listened to Jelinek's words carefully. "I agree that invoking the supernatural may seem premature," he had found the strength to look Jelinek in the eyes where at Wenton's, he had found it difficult to even utter the words of his experience there. "However, if Wenton is merely 'falling into' the role, then he is ill, not simply a criminal. It would be prudent to disarm him. If the blade has something to do with it, perhaps a hallucinogen of some sort, then caution in handling the blade would seem a reasonable precaution. I admit to having had a strange experience when Wenton had pulled me into his house. I fired my pistol at him several times and he stabbed me with his knife. He was closing for the kill when Spencer here came to my rescue. But in those moments of peril, I heard him chanting the name of Azathoth and in that moment, I saw a strange reddish glow in the back of the room and there was associated a foul stench.

"Of course, I was seriously wounded at the time but I had never heard of this...Azathoth before or the research that you had all just made me aware of. Still, one cannot rule out the possibility that I had an episode of temporary hallucinations due to the pain or perhaps, by my own suggestion, the use of a hallucinogen on the blade itself. I wish to assure all of you, I am quite of sound mind at present and believe in the scientific method. We have made an observation. We are now developing hypotheses that would fit the observation without prejudice. In either instance, lives appear to be in danger.

"Without sufficient agents available, I suggest that we also lay in wait for Wenton or any of his associates to make their appearance. Clearly this level of crime is more complex than the typical crime of passion that the police deal with routinely, whether supernatural or not," he inclined his head to Jelinek. "I had a pistol which I lent to Filip, here. I would suggest arming yourselves. Wenton and his associates are human and as mortal as any of us."

Arming ourselves? Artemis thought faintly. He was no more capable of shooting a man than he was wringing a chicken’s neck. Even just carrying a firearm was more than he was willing to do. However for the moment he pushed that thought from his mind and focused instead on the more interesting thing that the Doctor had said.

“A-Azathoth?” Artemis repeated, straightening a little and lowering his hand from his face. His chest felt tight from the smoke in the room, but he persevered in speaking regardless.

“That was--” he started, faltering to cough as he tried to breathe normally, “--the name of the d-dark servant--of Ny-Nyarlathotep--that was written--in hieroglyphics on--the picture of--the knife that was--in the tomes th-that--r-reading--libr-rary--”

Artemis trailed out, giving up attempting to talk for the moment and stooping slightly as he struggled to stop himself from wheezing. The air felt trapped in his lungs, he couldn’t expel it properly, and his heart seemed to be racing. With his left hand, he clutched at the shirt material covering his chest, closing his fingers around something beneath his clothes.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, common sense demanded that Artemis move out of the room into fresher air, away from the smoke that was causing the problem. But it was overridden by the memory of his father’s ringing voice, saying the words he always said whenever Artemis suffered one of these attacks; that his breath had been stolen by the devil, for some sin that had not been confessed.

"Indeed we are practical men," Jeter said, after paying close attention to Moriarity's words, "Practical enough to know that all of existence is not solely made up by what we have seen. I am no radical empiricist, and even were I such, I have seen things on my travels to give me pause.'

"I would also like some reasonable explanation as to how an Egyptian artifact gets into the hands of an Aztec tribe. Even if they made it themselves, the coincidence of the markings is spectacular ... and dare I say, no coincidence at all?"

Jeter blinked once, slowly, not entirely looking about the room, but still taking in the appearances and reactions of his comrades.

"Wenton is obviously dangerous ... removing his weapon from him is an obvious course of action. We can deal with the other implications afterwards; however, I would caution against handling the knife ... for whatever reason."

Joe was quiet as the others discussed any possible occult connection to the case. He dealt in the hard facts, and while some of his previous cases with Conrad had turned up strange things someone had always been able to give a rational explanation for his reports.

Conrad's mention of the war made something in Joe's chest tighten. He'd seen plenty of what man was capable of then without having to add any supernatural gimmicks to the mix. Hand trembling slightly he pulled out a fresh cigarette, he must have burnt through his last one faster than normal. Glancing about he did notice a faint haze to the room now.

"I'd rather people who didn't know how to handle a piece kept away from 'em." Joe spoke up "You had some time on the range, fine. But combat 'aint the place to find out how much of a kick a Colt has, not when you got squad mates in the firing line"
He glanced over at Artemis as he spoke, the young Brit was clearly out of place in all this talk of guns. Heck, the kid looked like he was about to have a panic attack over it. Joe had seen it before on the green boys in the trenches, they'd freeze up and just sit there trembling 'till the sarge snapped em out of it with his rifle butt.

Well I for one am all for a "stake out" of one kind or another...but agree we should probably stick to larger groups if not all stay together.

That would be a tight fit in my car to say the least...any ideas on how to proceed?

Joe can you get some of your boys to cover what we consider to be the next likely strike area while maybe we cover the Wenton house, he after all will most likely return there eventually, yes? And if he does the last thing we need is a bunch of trigger happy street cops on the scene.

Moriarity nodded and feeling the sun slipping towards evening, he found himself getting his clothes back on. It was time for action. "I offer a suggestion to the group which I hope others will modify as they see fit. But I believe we should chance splitting up into two groups. We have eight in our number.

"Callahan, you along with Filip have seen the attacker of the old man and Filip has seen Wenton up close. Since you and Hammerstein checked out the Panther Club earlier today, you might be able to spot something different or out of the ordinary better than the others and I suggest you take Filip along with you and perhaps Jelinek. Spencer and I are proficient with firearms, I've seen the attacker of the old man and we've both seen Wenton. Along with Valentine and Jeter, we could stake out the bus station." he finished tying his shoes as he spoke and then made for his coat. He felt very much himself again having his clothes on and standing, he fought off the urge to grimace at his discomfort. "The attacker of the old man and Wenton might be one and the same or they could be different people. But it would be prudent to have witnesses of both in each group.

"But whatever we do, let's get going quickly. The game's afoot and lives are in danger as we dally."

As the symptoms worsened, panic started to rise in Artemis. He hadn’t had an attack of this level in quite some time. But then he hadn’t been in such closed in, smoky atmosphere for some time either. Nor had he felt as frightened as he did at the moment, with all the talk of guns and the occult, in the murder investigation he’d inadvertently found himself a part of.

Artemis wanted to move, to get out of the room in the hope of finding fresh air and loosening the tightness across his chest that was constricting his breathing. But, his vision was blurring and his muscles felt like they were going to jelly as his body was denied the oxygen it required, making controlled movement nearly impossible. Perspiration glistened on his brow as he continued to struggle with the most basic of functions. What little he did manage wheezed horribly.

Staggering back into the far wall with a bump as the others continued to talk, Artemis helplessly hunched over and weakly clawed at his chest with a hand, as if that would somehow help his predicament. He wanted to say something, to tell the others what was happening and beg them for help, but he couldn’t speak more than frantic gasping noises.

Dark blotches started to cloud his vision, as faint traces of blue appeared in his lips. Was he going to die here, Artemis wondered distantly, as he started to weakly slide down the wall. It wasn’t much consolation, but at least he knew that wouldn’t be alone, where he was going.

"The bus station?" Jeter asked after Moriarity had finished, "I am all for continuing our investigation, but do you really think Wenton will try to flee Arkham? It seems something important is happening here, and I daresay there is more to it than this knife."

Jeter paused.

"There must be more clues to be found somewhere," he added, though his tone was rife with frustration, "Perhaps we can ...," he then trailed off, looking over to the young doctor, "Artemis?"

Jeter went over to the other, trying to help him stand, "Come now, perhaps some fresh air."

He was also feeling a bit cloistered with all the men in here. He tried to lead Valentine from the room and outside.

Ignoring the dull pain in his shoulder Spence tried to summon a nurse from the hallway for Artemis, leaving the door wide open in an attempt to filter the cigarette smoke from the room and provide a clear path for the young man to exit with Jeter, he didn't look good at all.

"I had thought Callahan had identified the station as a potential place for Wenton to strike, not escape," replied Moriarity although he was hesitant on what he had meant. But seeing Valentine's struggles, he looked with concern as he was helped out. His thoughts were asthma, either smoke induced or panic or both. "A bit of fresh air sounds like a good idea," he said. "Shall we get out somewhere?"

OOC: Here's a visual aid, based on the map Callahan found and the information already learned...



Legend:
X1 - Wenton's House
X2 - Site of murdered hooker
X3 - Site of murdered cabbie
X4 - Site of Ivan Tarksi's murder
X5 - Panther Club

The bus depot is the closest green X to X5. The next green X is the railyards, the next is a warehouse. It has been assumed that these X's are potential target sites, based on the marks Wenton made on the map.
The yellow line is the supposed hieroglyphic symbol.
The blue circle is where Tarksi's landlord was attacked.
The purple rectangle across the river is Miskatonic University.
The red X south of MU is the Hotel Miskatonic.
The red X west of MU is St. Mary's Teaching Hospital.

Though he was only dimly aware of what was happening, Artemis felt it as hands grabbed a hold of him. As he realised the tug of someone trying to get him back to his feet, he did his best to stand and move where he was bodily directed. All the while he continued to frantically gasp for breath, his heart hammering in his chest as he struggled.

He wasn’t really conscious of moving through the hospital to stand outside, but when he arrived in the fresher air it seemed to ease the symptoms a little. Though Artemis still wheezed for breath, hunched over with his eyes closed and his left hand still curled around something worn beneath his shirt.

Jeter escorted Valentine to the outside. He was also ruminating on the idea of predicting Wenton's next strike. This was news to him, and it sounded quite promising. When the others joined them outside, he spoke.

"I did not realize these conclusions," he said, nodding once, "If that is the realization, then by all means, let us send a group to the bus station."

He paused, looking about, "Would I have time to stop by my home before we leave?"