The intrepid investigators were finally assembled in the salon of J. Pollack Fine Antiques, and it was the evening of April 26. They were all relieved to be back after endless hours of questioning, but Diana Spinoza was particularly pleased to see Jules.
"Jules, honeysweetie, I am so glad that you are back. Back! It was woefully dull not having you around, and I was beyond bored. You spend far too much time working, and I wish we could have some fun instead, like going on a holiday, or just going to the beach. Why didn't you take me to Martin's Beach? I got to sit here with old Burly Jones, and Mrs. O'Flaherty, and you didn't even call!"
The situation was getting increasingly awkward, and Irwin Bowers reached for his nitrous oxide while Mackie MacNamara was trying to get some flame out of her lighter.
"So, Julie, do you know what I did in my prodigious spare time? Something that might please you, I think..."
Jules was perhaps looking forward to some little naughty and inspiring stunt, but he looked dumbfounded when Diana Spinoza continued.
"You see, I went through some, or perhaps all, of the notes and books that you've found on your trips and expeditions, and aren't they exciting! I think this is so fascinating, and I realized that I still have my borrower's privileges at Miskatonic, so I decided to do some more research, especially regarding that weird German, von Juntzt. But enough of this. Julie, how about we retire for the evening?"
Jules Pollack had little sleep that night. He really did not know what to expect. And his liquor cabinet was empty.
Following the letter to Mackie inviting the investigators to New York and Nefertiti Studios, the next morning was spent planning and packing until a visitor arrived. It was Johnny Schwartz, the British journalist, and he very much wanted to interview Jules about his trips. Schwartz believed that this would be of great interest to readers in Europe. Jules had business to attend to, but he did tell the investigators that Schwartz had been making himself known over the last couple of weeks. Schwartz had visited Pollack in the Arkham jail, and they had had quite a few conversations. Diana Spinoza also mentioned that he's been in the store before, and that he'd had some difficulties finding the restroom, which seemed to be the universal excuse for snooping. Jules left it to the investigators to continue.
It was strange conversation. Johnny Schwartz did seem to have some knowledge of the cosmic aberrations that had been encountered, and he whispered the dreadful name of Yog-Sothoth to the investigators, suggesting unearthly cults and repeatedly asking if anyone had additional knowledge to offer. Despite not having discussed any responses, the investigators displayed a truly united front in stonewalling the journalist. Lake giggled a bit at the mention of unmentionable beings from primordial times, of Hyperboreans, Lemurians and the priests of Mu. Moira Baker seemed like innocence personified, Irwin Bowers listened politely, seemingly nonplussed, while Mackie simply looked bored. If Schwartz was frustrated, he did not display it, but he left after several hours without having gained any information.
The intrepid investigators had booked tickets on an early morning train to New York, and there bags included everything from tuxedos to plastic explosives. Jules drove them to the trains station, promising that he'd join them in a couple of days when business had been tended to. The train trip was uneventful, and the train arrived at Grand Central Station just after 4pm on Tuesday, April 28.
The accomodations at the Hotel Ambassador were indeed luxurious. The owner of Nefertiti Studios, Patrice Montague, seemed to have spared little or no expense, and the investigators could not help listen to the many languages that could be heard in the lobby as foreign dignitaries were rushing to some meeting or enjoying beverages in one of several bars. After checking in and inspecting their respective rooms, Mackie, Moira, Howard and Irwin took their time to get ready for this evenings' cocktail reception at Nefertiti Studios, which was located just off Herald Square. The doorman flagged a cab just before seven, and the merry party stepped out at Herald Square just about 25 minutes later.
Nefertiti Studios was located on floors eleven and twelve in an enormous office building nestled on 33rd Street between Herald Square and Penn Station. The door was opened by Patrice Montague himself, and he was overjoyed to finally meet "Dr. MacKenzie and her friends." The cocktail party was a fairly intimate affair with just about a dozen guests in the spacious studio, half of which was the actual tailoring shop, and half being a two-floor mix of runways, photo studios, and offices. Patrice Montague introduced the investigators to the other guests at a brisk pace: Kelly Ventura, Montague's partner and stylist extraordinaire, Richard Strauss, the steady hands on the helm of Nefertiti Studios, Connor Branagan, one of the foremost social coordinators of New York City, as well as another six or eight guests that became a blur of flashing smiles, cigarette smoke, perfume, tuxedos, and brief, alluring eye contact. There were also some odd accents to the event: one guest was wearing a tuxedo made entirely out of soft but very shiny leather. One of the female guests seem to be wearing patent ballet shoes. Yet another guest kept toying absently with a studded leash.
Champagne was being served constantly, and all of the investigators found themselves quite buzzed quite soon. Mackie MacNamara filled her handbag with canapes, while Irwin Bowers found himself in the company of Clive Blake, a well-known fashion photographer, and his special friend Serge. An animated discussion about photography led to Bowers being offered a blow-by-blow in the bathroom, a popular destination for several guests. Bowers gladly accepted at least one form of blow, and he was elated.
Kelly Ventura Patrice Montague
Richard Strauss Conor Branagan
However, the investigators were feeling both overwhelmed and tired just after 10pm, although Irwin Bowers was having a fantastic time. It was nevertheless decided to leave the event, despite the incessant protests from Bowers. Moira Baker was already considering what to give Bowers to cut his incessant babbling short. He simply wasn't the best photographer in the world, and that was that.
The investigators were looking for a cab when they heard somebody yelling "you fuckin' faggot!" from an alleyway. This was followed by the dull thuds of kicks and fists hitting soft flesh. There was clearly no time for pleasantries, as Lake pulled out his Luger, Bowers fired a shaky warning shot into the night sky, and Baker yelled to the bunch of thugs to not move. All of this was trumped as Mackie threw half a brick covered in plastic explosives into the alleyway, where it exploded with a window-shattering bang. This became the queue for the six and seven hooded thugs to run for it, and the investigators turned their attention to the victim. It turned out to be Victor Aymes, who had attended Montague's cocktail event. The young man thanked all of the investigators profusely, and they walked out to find cabs. Aymes was charming, and he expressed sincere hopes to meet the investigators again before jumping into a cab.
Victor Aymes
The cab ride back to the Hotel Ambassador provided some additional amusement as Moira Baker finally injected Irwin Bowers with some fine Laudanum. Nothing more of Bowers was heard until breakfast.
Mackie MacNamara was however woken up by room service. Not too early, though, but early enough to be irritating. Fortunately, the bell boy was only bringing yet another invitation, this time to the prestigious Explorer Club on the Upper West Side. The curator, a Mr. Anscomb Blakely, was inviting the investigators to a dinner and conversation about exploration and discovery. Mackie did not mind at all, and she RSVPed as the bell boy waited. Additional plans were discussed over breakfast, and an outing to the Brooklyn Museum was considered. Moira Baker had a different suggestion, though. Why not inquire among the antiquities dealers about how and why Johnny Schwartz had asked around for information about Jules, Mackie, and the other investigators? They decided to start off at Hightower Fine Arts and Antiques and Mr. James Partridge II, who had helped Jules Pollack in selling many of the antiquities and fine arts that the investigators had found in Egypt two or so years ago.
Mr. Partridge was quite glad to see the investigators again, and he was nurturing the hope that they might have more items to sell, but alas, no. Yet. Mr. Partridge did indeed remember Johnny Schwartz, who had visited Hightower Fine Arts and Antiquities four or five weeks previously. He had left his card, and he was in the company of a gentlemen who may have spoken Russian, but who did not introduce himself. As a matter of fact, Mr. Schwartz seemed to speak Russian as well, and they had a fairly intense conversation. Irwin Bowers suddenly remembered a chat between Henry Chester and a bartender, who claimed that some Russkies were looking for Jules Pollack...
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