J&L: The Curse, The Cult & The Captain (6)

New Regency Theatre

HGJ: "Greetings and salutations, Captain Harkness. Welcome to this venerated venue of vaudeville, this praised and pleasing place of prodigious performances, the New Regency!"

CJH: "Well, Whiskers, it's quite something."

HGJ: "Please, don't congratulate me, I am merely a humble impresario. I'd be nothing without my talented troupe of spellbinding singers, accomplished actors, creative comics and popular practitioners of prestidigitation!"

CJH: "Fine, I'll direct my praises to them instead."

HGJ:"Well, that is to, I suppose, my part is integral to the success of this venture. My eye for talent, my ability to draw in and hold a crowd..."

CJH: "I'm only messing with you, Whiskers. So, any response from his nibs after last night's message?"

HGJ: "Litefoot? Yes actually. He found some sadistic symbols cruelly carved into the victim's flesh, that he believes to be hieroglyphics too."

CJH: "Ah, so our killing cult has a calling card then?"

HGJ: "Captain? Leave the apposite alliterative appeal to me. That's what I hope to find out from Edmund."

CJH: "That's Edmund Erkson, yeah? This Egyptian act that you're hosting? It's a place to start, I suppose."

HGJ: "Better than nothing, I suppose. He's a decent sort, but I would be suspicious of the authenticity of his act. Oh, and Harkness? Best leave the talking to me. Edmund is a shy and suspicious sort, and it'll take a particular talent to get him talking."

CJH: "Yes sir! At your command sir!"

HGJ: "Oh, act your age, Captain."

Jago approached the door to Edmund's dressing room and knocked firmly. After a few moments, a small wiry haired figure emerged from behind the door.

EE: "Yes, Mr Jago? Is everything OK?"

HGJ: "Oh, perfectly fine Eddie old boy. This fine gentleman just has a few questions for you, regarding an ongoing investigation."

EE: "Oh dear Oh dear Oh dear. I'm not in any trouble, I hope?"

HGJ: Not at all Eddie. We just wish to pick your brains for your extensive Egyptian expertise."

EE: "Eh, I don't really, I mean, I don't have any formal qualifications. Howard was always into the academic side of archaeology. I never had the studious temperament though. Always been more of an amateur hobbyist. I can't say I'll be much help."

HGJ: "We just want your opinion on some translation. We have some hieroglyphics that are baffling Scotland Yard."

EE: "Sorry Jago. I can't help."

HGJ: "Come now. This will help put and end to the malevolent machinations of manic murderers. You have to help!"

EE: "No! I can't. I just can't."

CJH: "Maybe I should have a crack at this, Whiskers."

Jack took a step towards Eddie, placing a tender hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

CJH: "Look, Eddie. You'd really be helping us out on this. I can tell you're worried about something, but I promise we won't judge. Your secret is safe with me."

EE: "How could you know?"

CJH: "Because it's not the first time I've seen that look in a man's eye. And I'm thinking the same thing."

EE: "What?"

CJH: "Why don't I step into your dressing room? We can discuss this more intimately, and we'll see if I can't tease some information out of you."

With that, the two men disappeared into the dressing room. Seconds later, Jack reappeared at the door.

CJH: "Oh, by the way Whiskers, this may take some time, so why don't I just meet you and Prim at the arranged time at The Red Tavern."

HGJ: "The sooner we can sort this situation and get rid of him, the better. Hmm."

The Red Tavern.

GL: "I thought the Captain was travelling with you?"

HGJ: "He stayed behind to interrogate Edmund. The cove was less than cooperative."

GL: "Oh dear. I hope Harkness goes easy on him."

HGJ: "As do I. Last I saw he was pulling out a set of handcuffs."

GL: "So we still haven't gotten a translation of those runes then. Still, good of you to spot that hieroglyphics were involved."

HGJ: "Thanks Professor. I suppose if Edmund is a dead end, we can just contact the Natural History Museum anyway."

GL: "If it comes to that. Say, why didn't you pay that messenger boy you sent last night? You're hardly that destitute!"

HGJ: "How dare you, Litefoot! Henry Gordon Jago is a paragon of prompt payments, and a fine financial fellow. Destitute indeed! I did pay the boy, with a little extra to ensure swift conveyance."

GL: "Then why did he demand sixpence from me too?"

HGJ: "Damned cheeky urchin! Thieving little tyke."

EH: "Ah, there you are gents. Oi, Jack! They're over 'ere."

CJH: "Thanks doll."

EH: "Remember, if you want anything at all, just give me a shout."

CJH: "Thanks El, but this is purely a business trip. I'll make a personal visit another time."

GL: "Did you get anything from Edmund, Captain?"

HGJ: "I doubt it. Chap had his lips sealed tighter than the proverbial drum."

CJH: "On the contrary, I got a few something useful. Many of the symbols were unfamiliar to the chap, they seemed to be variations or corruptions of more common symbols."

GL: "Almost like a different dialect?"

CJH: "Exactly Prim! Like one completely unknown on Earth. Without a direct interpretation, the runes seem to suggest a powerful deity. Something with great power, of destruction, of life and death. Something involving a gate or barrier, and something penetrative."

GL: "So these sacrifices are to appease this Egyptian God of destruction?"

CJH: "That's Eddie's best guess anyway."

GL: "Hmm. But do these markings intend to renew the wards entrapping this deity, or hasten it's release?"

CJH: "Knowing our typical luck, I'd bet on the latter."

HGJ: "This is all well and good, but how did you get that chap to talk?"

CJH: "Let's just say I have a silver tongue and leave it at that, Whiskers."

HGJ: "Nonsense. Nobody has as diverse and dexterous a linguistic lexicon as myself. How did you succeed where I failed?"

GL: "Henry, maybe you should.."

CJH: "Because Jago, I have certain natural advantages. I know what men like Edmund like."

HGJ: "Poppycock!"

GL: "Henry, I think Jack is trying to say that both he and Edmund, they prefer the company of gentlemen."

HGJ: "I don't see how that... Oh. Oh! I see."

CJH: "I do hope you're not offended, Jago."

HGJ: "Not at all! On the contrary, a man's private affairs are his own. It's just I hadn't pegged you as one, is all. I always thought there was something about Edmund through. Really, Egyptology. Hah."

CJH: "But just to clarify Prim. I don't prefer the company of men. Where I come from, such trivial concerns are no longer relevant."

HGJ: "And where is that anyway? The Americas, with that accent, I assume?  Quite the liberal sort, a fine upstanding place founded on fairness and freedom."

CJH: "A bit further than that, Whiskers. I'm not from Earth, rather a little colony world in the Boshane Peninsula, in the 51st century."

GL: "Sounds like a place of equality. Where a person doesn't have to hide themselves from the wider world."

HGJ: "Hold on, Captain! The 51st century? Litefoot, we can't trust this man."

GL: "Whyever not, Henry? Just because his views are radical, doesn't mean he's wrong!"

HGJ: "Not that, Professor. Remember when we met him, he mentioned he used to be a Time Agent?"

GL: "Vaguely, why?"

HGJ: "We've met another Time Agent from the 51st century."

CJH: "What! Who? Not John 'Spike' Hart?"

GL: "You can't mean!"

HGJ: "But I do. That villainous rogue, Magnus Greel!"

CJH: "Hey hey hey! I've never even heard of the guy. But my memories of that time are vague at best. Woke up once to find the agency had wiped two years of my mind. I parted ways soon after. But I can't recall any Greel. Besides, if I did, why am I helping you?"

HGJ: "If you say so. Sorry, long day. My mind is racing ahead of me."

GL: "I'd have to side with the Captain on this one."

EH: "Chaps, urgent message from Quick. You're wanted at the station as soon as possible. A police carriage is waiting for you."

CJH: "Thanks darling. The game is afoot! Oh, that never gets old!"