Sex, Shillings and Sherry (with Panakananana and Boyo)

ShadowsLitany

Lurker in the Shadows
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Joined
Oct 17, 2014
Location
USA
Sitting on the chair, with pen in hand Philip, wrote the letter to the Yard. At their request he had looked over the material on the murder that had been bothering them, the answer seemed obvious but to assist he had dared to take a constitutional. That had taken more out of him than expected. She aided him in interviewing someone involved. Shannon helped, as always, and in the end the culprit had been found as Philip wrote it all down, in simple words, words even the Yard could understand. Finishing the letter sealed it, using wax and the family seal to close the envelope. One did not need to use such machinations in these days of the great Queen Victoria, yet some bit of theatrics always did impress the lower classes.

Cleaning the wax off the ring as a servant came and took the message as he walked to the window, the curtains hung close and heavy. The air within the study was often oppressive but it also maintained an undercurrent of secrecy that he liked. Light flashed as he ruffled the curtains to look out over his portion of London near Regents Park. Replacing the ring on his finger, the seal of Doyle glinted inside the ruby, his small baroncy near Devon. A grand estate still, though it had been years since he had last visited. He often sent Shannon there when there was need, and for the well timed check-up, as she usually discovered problems that needed resolving. Though they were resolved before her return and report, which was just fine with him.

Picking up the book he had started the other day took out a cigar from the humidor on the desk, lighting a match with his long, elegant fingers. Noticing the pale skin as if for the first time, seeing the web of veins under his skin, Philip stared at the match a moment, watching hit burn down, then lighting the slight cigar took his place on the wide backed seat before the fireplace. A servant brought him a sherry and with a nod dismissed the man, the sherry soothed his body as he tried to calm his thoughts, typically his mind raced from point to point drawing conclusions and placing facts and figures together like a puzzle. It was that talent he put to use aiding the Yard in their more difficult cases. There seemed to be more and more as the reign of Victoria brought further and further advancements. As if mankind was fighting against the new future that was coming.

The letter was already on its way, yet before two pages in the book were read of Herodotus in the original greek text, Philip found himself bored. Crossing long, lean legs under his velvet smoking jacket tapped his foot out with the pendulum clock, that amused him for a moment then taking up the small silver bell on the table rang it.

"Find me Shannon," he told the man whose head just made it in the door before he spoke, and dismissed the servant. As if the act of calling for his hand in the world, she was his hands outside the house he did not like to leave, a calm settled. She would bring him something, a task to bend his mind to and distract him from the ennui that circled him. Savoring the smoke and the brandy, all seemed right for the moment while he waited for her to come.
 
Shannon is on her way to the house to report to Phillip. She doesn't mind being an errand runner for Phillip, only because the two of them share a genuine, teenage like adoration for each other. It's like a family owned business that they run, one that is doing extremely well. Shannon stops in, delivering a secret knock and calling out to let Phillip know who it is. She does what she can to make sure her breasts look as nice as possible.
 
Philip walked around the desk, touching one of the multiple chess games that were scattered about the room. Moving a piece or two into new positions advanced the play, it was not as amusing to play with himself but he had not found a good opponent other than Shannon. Though she rarely like to play with him any more, at times she indulged him but often she seemed too animated to want to play much, as if the time taken to play could be used in other pursuits. With the sherry finished he turned to the chair again, sitting down and picking up the book again and reading with a more focused attention.

Often too intelligent for his own good, and with a distinct lack of social niceties, as his mother often reminded him, Philip remained more in tune with himself. Other than the servants of the house, who stayed due to the family connections, and he was sure the distinct lack of demands on his part, only Shannon was a regular visitor to the house. Philip disdained people in general, unless they could amuse him, or if they were necessary for some diversion. Of which he only had two, one was working cases for Scotland Yard that they found difficult, the initial one coming to his attention through the papers and through Shannon had solved it relatively quickly, able to find the murderer without leaving his study. After the second unsolved case they had unofficially sent ones that seemed particularly complex to resolve, and it was a pleasant diversion that Philip found extremely fulfilling.

Downstairs came the sound of a bell and a door, muffled voices came through the house as he heard the footsteps on the stairs. Marking his place in the book he waited in the chair, finishing the cigar and throwing it into the fire as the servant steps up but it is Shannon who knocks on the door then walks in after a moment. Giving her form an admiring glance, the dress while normal somehow accentuates her form and sensuality which he secretly derives a little pleasure from as he invites her to sit with a gesture. Out of politeness he pours her a sherry, then fills his own glass, setting the glass down he pulls the newspaper from the desk and hands it to her.

"Of the ashes of one, comes another." Sitting down takes his own glass, "notice the story about the merchant on the bottom of the page. The one complaining about the shillings he received in payment," staring towards the fire he let his eyes become unfocused as he begins to consider the options of this puzzle. "Normally a small item, but the last victim we just dealt with had a false shilling in his pocket, and this seems too much of a coincidence to me."
 
Shannon looks into your eyes apologetically as she picks up her sherry "forgive me, Philip, but I need a moment to gather my thoughts for what I am about to tell you". She elegantly lifts the glass and slowly guzzles the entire glass of wine. "Okay, prepare yourself" she wipes her mouth with her similar colored glove "we received a letter from an anonymous source stating that similar troubles in the area are linked to an unknown person". She kneels down and pulls your pants down, she goes on to say "the unknown person is said to have the ability to possess others, he or she is trying to destroy this country from the inside, starting with the corruption of our economy. I know that you aren't one to believe in magic, but to show how real they are, 4,000 pounds were included, stating that there's plenty more if you'll consider it. What's wrong with you Philip."
 
Staring at the letter as Shannon gets on her knees before him Philip, barely noticing his pants opened and the lace gloves rubbing against him. Shannon continues stroking him as she tells him the contents of the letter. The gloves caress and stroke his exposed cock and balls, the soft cloth and skilled hands, that at other times have aroused him and milked the liquid from his loins, now only caress his softness that does not harden. Thoughts racing through him, to the exclusion of all else such that even her ministrations that he often seeks out do nothing for him, looking down he raises an eye brow. "Too early for that," he comments and turns away. Placing the letter on the table, pulling his trousers back up, scans the letter again.

"Possession?" He muses, turning the word over in his mouth like a tasty pudding. "How could one possess another? Perhaps with the right drugs, hypnotism perhaps, there are enough fakir's from the East who could achieve such feats. Plenty of local connivers of various sorts as well, who may have studied some of the alchemical secrets of recent times, or practitioners of other illusionary arts. Phrenologists perhaps," as he muses aloud. Shannon resumes her seat and waits.

Philip moves about the thoughts acting and clicking on their own, disparate thoughts coming together to some insubstantial puzzle that forms within him. Something only he can see. Stopping to pick up a book, only to place it somewhere else. Or at a chess board move another piece as he stops and looks at it.

"Very well," he finally says as he stops in front of Shannon. Looking down at her with a smile, "yes, let's do it and see where it all leads. What sort of contact do you have with this mysterious benefactor?"
 
Shannon let's out a sigh of discontent as you turn away and pull up your trousers "I was left without contact, the only credibility in these statements is the large amount of money left in the package with the letter, that and the promise of plenty more if you should choose to accept the job. The letter was saying that, if you should accept the job, they will know and monetary assistance will be given in one form or another, as well as manpower if needed. Sounds to me like a hoax but the sheer amount of money...left in the event of your acceptance or not...". She gets up to hug you "anyways, it's completely up to you, I am very content the way things are".

"Not that it bothers me, Philip, but I know how your cock gets when you are giving a good think. I'll leave you be, but do let me know if you are in need of a release, I'll drop everything and work at it all day if I must".
 
Philip made a clicking sound, "so they are watching me?" A feeling of alarm crept over him, turning to the window saw the park outside, the green shining amid the dark stone and air of London. The study was his solitude and Philip liked the view from window, though it was a part he had visited only once when he was younger. Now, open spaces, with groups of people unnerved him. With a motion he closed the curtains, shutting out whomever was watching him, if indeed they were.

Getting behind Shannon wraps his arms around her waist, the thick skirts keeping his body slightly at bay. "I'm sure I will need your touch soon enough," putting his lips near her eat let his eyes roam over the slight curve and arch of her ear. The way it was framed by her styled and pinned hair, it was an attraction to him of sorts, "I was reading recently on how sensitive the ear can be." Leaning down ran his lips along the outer edge of her ear, feeling the soft hairs on the outside of the skin brush across his lips as he whispered to her. "Even in Eastern lore the ear is connected to different parts of the body," rubbing his tongue along her lobe, "to touch your ear is to touch your body." Softly moaning into Shannon's ear, "so wildly decadent."

Letting his arms ride up the outside of her dress felt the corset and the support of her breasts in his hands, so much construction he thought, just to keep her breasts well formed but hidden. Years and centuries of advancement solely for the purpose of accentuating one part of the body. Nuzzling her ear slowly parted from it, feeling slightly sated. Pressing his lips to her cheek in a kiss that seemed chaste to the outside, but for him was far warmer. "You said manpower?" His mind returning to the task at hand, "what sort of manpower would we need? You are more than capable of handling anything we have come across so far."
 
Shannon smiles a big smile as her earlobe is caressed "manpower if needed, I haven't a clue as to what that might entail during a case such as this one...however, I am prepared as always to carry out your orders, whatever they may be. Like I said before, this whole thing could be an awful prank, or even a detour to mozey you off of another trail, or much worse it could be an attempt on both of our lives, the sender did infer that they have easy access to you, love".

Likewise, she kisses you on the cheek in that same fashion, though hardly a substitute for her desires, for now it would suffice. She wanders by a particular chess set that is meant for you and her, she moves a pawn that nearly puts you in checkmate. "If you are wanting to persue this one, Phillip, we already have quite a few leads concerning bankers and upper class government workers, engaging in not so ethical actions. And we've yet too dig into any of these possible leads yet...so, I am awaiting your orders".
 
Looking down at the chessboard Philip considers many moves as he looks over the board. "Unethical actions have been a part of politics since the Romans came to our shores, and probably before." Turning to the bookshelves for a moment considers the spines of the books, but he has no desire to take something. "I'm curious how much our investigations dovetail in with our mysterious benefactor."

Turning to the board again looks over the pieces and drops his king, not seeing a way out of the trap that Shannon had laid for him. "Bankers will hide things well, because they have to show their books. Either they massage the numbers or generate a set that will show what they want people to see. If we want any progress with those we will need something to hold over those who will lead us the next step." Considering as he walks around the room, the high dark paneling of the wall casts some shadows around the room even in the bright sun of the day that filters through the curtains of the windows.

"Let us check our political friends, they at least are more fungible in the overall scheme of things," turning to Shannon takes one of her hands in his stroking the gloved hand. "I believe two will probably lead us to a next step, either Lord Kinnoch, being from the Isles will be more easily swayed as his position is delicate so he will be worth checking. Mister Stimson, as a lawyer, we know already has questionable connections but will be more polished in manner and harder to move against." Waving a hand steps back to the desk, "I leave the choice as to which is better to you. We should see where one of them leads."
 
Shannon takes your instruction, kisses you long and hard, and takes off in a chariot, saying that she will head for both, starting with Mister Stimson. In Shannon's absence, your head tells you that everything is going smoothly, but your gut tells you that something is terribly wrong. She returns to you that same evening, not nearly enough time to have carried out her tasks. She feels that she needs to let you know that Mister Stimson has been killed, suicide actually. "I saw it with my own eyes, I'm sorry Philip".

Somewhat coincidental that Shannon is the one to find out before anyone else, with ample time to return to you and let you know. It's not like your Shannon has any reason to kill Mister Stimson, or much less betray you. Philip's mind wanders in directions it should not.

"I will leave to see Lord Kinnoch tomorrow, I'll go prepare our dinner".
 
Philip turned to the bookshelf, it's full shelves allowed his eyes to focus and roam on the spines as a way of piecing together the puzzles that he saw everything as. Thinking over Stimson's suicide considered that as a message of guilt, if the man was truly involved with something of this nature and somehow knew that he was a person of interest by the authorities then it would be a way out. To avoid the stain of dishonour by taking his own life Stimson would absolve his family any of the repercussions of involvement in something so distasteful. Although no one other than Philip, so far as he knew, was investigating this and knew of Stimson's involvement. Which might mean someone else targeted the man and killed him to make it look like suicide.

Shannon would not be so easily fooled. If it was made to look like suicide then it was very skillfully done. Shannon might have the ability, thought Philip knew of no motive she would have in this case. Philip had known her since childhood and while she had knowledge and abilities that would raise the eyebrows of men not so open minded as himself, one that she did not possess was cooking. As he turned towards the door, raising an eyebrow as he did so, wondered what she might mean. "I'll go prepare our dinner," she had said. Though she would have no need with the servants already in the house, and they would know when to bring him sustenance, only when he called.

"What are you up to my dear?" Philip mused to himself.
 
Shannon had given your eyes a quick glance on her way to the kitchen. Soon after she returns with an annoyed demeanor "I know that look, how could you think, even for a second, that I had anything to do with this. I know you haven't many friends, so I would think that you would be somewhat pained by his death. I thought that it would be nice to enjoy a meal cooked by your wife and not your butler. I can tell this situation perplexes you, so ask me whatever you need to in order to ease your mind".

Philip rises from his chair to his feet and takes a moment to think. No one, not even Shannon, knows knows that Phillip has the knowledge and ability to read the slightest movements of the eye and determine one's brain activity, like a human lie detector. "I have but one question for you, Shannon...listen carefully" He comes closer and puts his hands on your shoulders "did you, in any way, indirectly or not, have anything to do with the death of Mister Stimson, or anything regarding his coverup".

They look into each other's eyes as she answers "no, I honestly had nothing to do with any of this".

Without changing his expression "I'll meet you in the kitchen shortly". It turns out she was telling the truth, she is absolved, but it only brings up more questions.
 
"Kitchen?" He stiffened. Unless she had learned to cook, hopefully not from Smythe the butler, the man was a very good manservant and well skilled at keeping the household running but was a terrible cook. It reminded him of why there was a division of labor, each doing what they were good at. It was the same with Shannon and he, she was good with people, able to slip in and out of places people did and did not go. While he was best at seeing the pieces and fitting them all together.

Stepping from the room hesitantly, straightened his shoulders and turning to the stairs walked down. It had been days since he left the study, the only place he felt comfortable now. The windows looked out on one side of the house towards the park, the lush green reflecting on the panes of glass, a close look showed him that the interior of the windows were cleaned. The drapes, dark and thick to keep out the light when he needed, were soft and laundered. The floors gleamed under his feet, the house was more showcase than home, of all the rooms he only used three, the staff had the run of the rest and they cleaned and avoided the other rooms. Shannon enjoyed all of it, far as he knew, and that was fine.

Shoes clicked in the quiet halls, the staff stood ready, lining the way to the kitchen. Bowing as he passed, their eyes down but up as he passed to get a look at the employer they rarely saw. The kitchen was on the lower floor, as originally built, the house had been in the family for generations and only updated as necessary, as he made his way down to the unfamiliar space the nervousness wrapped him like a shroud. Slowly, each stair clicked under his foot, making his way down he could smell the meals of the past. Like a fading fire the scent of oil and roasted meats clung to the air, turning into the small but wide kitchen, the stove a wide heat in the room, the main table was loaded with baskets and bowls of fish, chicken and vegetables of multiple colors.

Stepping up to the end of the handing pans and knives looked over at Shannon, an odd look of domesticity on her face. "I think this is my first time here," tracing a finger on the edge of the table and looking at his fingertip, "and I believe I know why."
 
Indeed she had learned to cook, you watch her expertly chop up some veggies and make a stir fry with of the ingredients unheard of in such a dish. "You think that you know people" says Phillip in surprise and too quietly to be heard. Phillip sits down on a part of the counter that he wiped down himself, greatly anticipating whether this dish that Shannon was concocting would be any good or not.

Shannon speaks to Phillip as she prepares the food "after I found Mister Stimson dead, I looked through his office for any information that might be helpful. I was able to infer from his notes and records that his death was, most likely, murder. The victims of this mysterious 'possessor' commit acts and afterwards have no memory, still not sure that it's actual possession but there is something going on. Though we mourn the loss of Mister Stimson, the trip wasn't a waste".

A letter is handed to you, explaining that the anonymous employer has gained knowledge of your involvement in the case and has deployed 5 of their troops to aid in anyway possible. The troops are already there, experts in stealth and secrecy, they will appear when needed, though it is very important to the case that thier identities nor faces be revealed to you, and if possible, always wear a mask before summoning one of them.
 
Philip looks at the letter, out of habit he holds it before the light looking for other marks on the paper. Finding none gives a disappointed pout and creasing the edges, from habit, places the envelope on the counter near Shannon. Slipping into a familiar pattern of thought, Philip looks at what he knows as if it was a chess board, where pieces move on the board. Considering that he has many pieces sees them appear as thoughts while he discerns any links from Stimson to anything else he knows.

"So we know that Stimson had a connection to the counterfeit coins, though in such a number it would be useful more for a complete destabilization of the economy, if that was the aim. If he was a target for the possessor then that means either Mister Stimson was involved with many things or they are connected." Watching Shannon move easily within the kitchen, an amused and amazed look in his eye, Philip slips in and out of his thoughts.

The heat in the kitchen does distract him slightly, the room was built for older times, with the low ceiling and close walls the room heats easily but it has also absorbed the scent of a few centuries of meals. The clean space before him is the only area Philip finds himself safe in, the rest of the kitchen he leaves to Shannon and her new found abilities. The pan is a jumble of color and shapes, the air fills with the scent of pepper, spices and herbs that he detects most of, only uncertain about one through the many.

"A trip is never a waste my dear, its always a matter of what we get out of it at the end. This time I think we have ended up with a larger puzzle than at first thought." An inward sense of satisfaction at finding something that seems like a use of his talents and an intellectual challenge, Philip folds his hands before him. A smile of self-satisfaction on his face, "what is it you are making my dear? It smells delightful."
 
Shannon doesn't take her eyes off of what she is doing, but smiles at you lovingly "It's a basic stir fry with one ingredient that I think you are unfamiliar with, Ganoderma mushroom imported from China by a private party...the food is about ready would you mind setting the table, if you know how".

While they are preparing to eat, a knock comes to the door. Shannon goes the door just beyond the security room and looks through the peephole to see who it is. Shannon comes back to the table "Philip, it is Lord Kinnoch, how he got a hold of this address I do not know". Philip responds "Well, invite him in to eat with us, looks like you won't need to take a second trip after all". Shannon retorts "Doesn't it seem odd that the only lead we are after has come to us, having never been given knowledge of this address" Shannon claps in a distinctive pattern and one of the troops appears in a cloud of smoke, covered from head to toe in black.

"The smoke in my house is very disturbing, but you'll have to show me how you did that" says Philip, who is now perplexed by what he just saw and trying to figure it out. Shannon commands the ninja like troop "go and check him for weapons, and then let him in, but keep an unseen watch on him". Without a word the ninja salutes Shannon and takes off to obey the orders. Shannon continues at Phillip "I deal with people everyday, that is my expertise, and this seems very off".
 
Looking curiously at the food, Philip shrugged. The long arms wrapped around his chest in thought, a finger tapping his chin as he looked at the food, its mixtures of textures and scents falling into his mind. Giving him thoughts and ideas. The intersection of two things, different, but mixed together revealing something new. Amazingly like the mysterious person and the counterfeiting that he was interested in. Two completely different objectives, or methods, to an end, yet both seemed to intersect. Staring at the dinner he stepped back and walked to the hall as the smoke cleared, a hand wafting the air in mild annoyance.

"We shall meet in the parlor," turning to Shannon walks to the stairs and to the next floor, "you know I do not like others in the study, my Sanctum."

As Philip walked towards the stairs the other servants were there, "a pot of Bohea." Philip added as an afterthought, it was the cheapest type of tea, and to be honest he barely cared about the types and flavors as it was only a means to clear his thoughts. Hungry the Bohea would at least calm him until he knew what Kinnoch wanted.

Sitting in the broad backed chair of the parlor, three others gathered around the low table before the fireplace, Philip took the one with its back to the window. Eyes intent on the door waited until Kinnoch entered. The Lord entered the room, a commanding presence from a large Irishman who took on British airs. The hair wild and red rested on a body that looked to be of the usual country type, large and broad shouldered with thick arms and legs that were finely muscled, even with the tailored suit it was easy to see that Kinnoch had not taken on the typical British indolence yet, but the mass of fat gathering on the man's midsection told Philip that Kinnoch was on his way.

Taking a chair with a rush of air, and flushed cheeks, Philip waited until Shannon arrived and the tea was brought in by the manservant who poured into three cups fine cups with the decorations of fanciful, and colorful, birds. Kinnoch's eyes lit up at the teas as if it was the first of many things to come, the cup and saucer clacked as Kinnoch picked them up in large hands, calming as soon as the cup was resting near the rounded chest. Philip waited a moment, until he thought the tea was the right temperature, picking his own saucer slowly, eyes never leaving Kinnoch.

"What good fortune brings you unannounced to my door Lord Kinnoch?" The implication was within the politeness, though at time Philip could fake the niceties, it was often not worth the effort. A hand reached down and with an apologetic nod Philip took up Shannon's cup and held it out to her.
 
Lord Kinnoch smirks as he sips the tea. He drops the mug as he starts to burst into a fit of laughter. Finally, with tears streaming down his cheeks from laughing so hard, he rises to his feet "why do you ask me these questions...when you already know the answer" he pulls off the end of a cane that he has, revealing a mean looking blade. "Your guardian did a fine job of searching me for weapons, if it's any consolation" he steps forward and leans in to pierce Philips chest. Thinking quickly Phillip grabs an oak chess set and blocks the blade with a thud. As the fight begins, two of Phillip's ninja like troops rush in from the other side of a wall, one with a katana in hand and the other with a dagger and chain to bind Lord Kinnoch. One of the troops instructs Phillip to hide, revealing that it is a woman. Phillip tosses the chess set at Lord Kinnoch's face, with expert control Lord Kinnoch bats the chess set right into the chin of the troop with the chain, a knockout shot. Kinnoch and the katana wielding troop clang blades, Shannon is still seated, frozen and unsure what to do. In a flurry of blades, Kinnoch's blade rises and ends the second troop by cutting it's throat.

"I guess she thought you would only need two, your employer I mean" says Kinnoch.
 
Philip stands slowly, stepping behind the chair while Kinnoch dispatches the two guards. Philip had raised an eye at the woman's voice that came from one of them, watching Kinnoch use the chess set against them Philip turned to Shannon. "Try to limit the bloodshed," Philip reached to the wall taking down one of the sabers, "if you can." A calm expression on his face as he stepped around the chair and met blades with Kinnoch.

The parlor severely limited both of their strikes, the slim blade more like a foil, giving Kinnoch a fast reaction. Philip was skilled in many blades, the saber being only the one close at hand. Kinnoch struck quickly, darting in and out like a snake at Philip as they moved around the parlor, Shannon now disappeared from the room. Philip swung in with the saber keeping Kinnoch back but the large man kept distance, to keep Philip advancing and so that he could not use his greater reach. "You should have stayed out of this Lord Doyle," Kinnoch moved around the room trying to edge back towards the door.

Philip kept the bigger man moving, as Kinnoch went for the door knob he thrust in, not trying to strike but to keep Kinnoch on the move. The bigger man was breathing heavily, the nostrils flaring, a slight sheen of sweat on the upper lip. Philip trained when bored, sometimes with Shannon who was in some ways more adept than he, he did not feel the strain as much as Kinnoch the room slowly being turned to tatters as the blades missed and struck a lamp, a small ceramic figure of a cherub. That one Philip raised an eyebrow at, not sad at its loss but recalling its history and how it had been something he was never allowed to touch as a child.

"So you know my employer and everything else I am doing," Philip admitted in the midst of the fight, thinking Kinnoch sufficiently distracted. "Seems a waste of your time to come here and see me, unless its all to keep cover on Stimson."
 
The man knew that the chance that he would have had to do what he came here to do successfully, was over. In order to keep Philip from getting any closer to finding out the truth, Kinnoch goes for the only option available to him and drives his own blade into his heart. Kinnoch dies almost instantly, and upon his falling to the fluffy green carpet, Philip is stricken with fear at some level. Whatever it was that made him fearful of being outside of his safe house, now becomes overwhelmed with thoughts of what could happen to Shannon or even where she had gone, also thoughts of what could happen to himself. Philip could no longer stay in his home, if he did he would no longer be able to sleep, from fear of being murdered. As Philip paces his study, contemplating his options, the troop that had been knocked out by the chess set sits up, look around putting together the situation. The troop then gets up and stands at attention, awaiting Philip's orders. Philip manages to cast his own stress aside for a moment and ask "are you alright there". The troop responds in a woman's voice "I'm quite alright, I apologize that I was not able to defend you sir, but from the looks of it, everything panned out".

The front part of her mask is soaked in her own blood and she is forced to remove it. Her face is bloodied and her nose is broken, but that doesn't stop her from smiling. Philip is amazed to some degree but has decided to leave his manor immediately, with the troop as a sort of guard, he stops for supplies and bandages before they go to find Shannon.
 
As the carriage pulled up to Kinnoch's office Philip stayed in for a long moment, considering the steps that led into the old stone building. An aging stone edifice, the front stained from years of weathering, like the men and government within. As his hand touched the door latch he hesitated noticing the emptiness outside, though the streets were filled with people the low hanging clouds let the sunlight diffuse in from above. It was the space above that bothered him, as he looked through the window of the carriage. A deep breath as he calmed himself, Shannon had showed him a technique years before, it took the edge off his growing fear but did not ebb it.

Tapping his hat on his head opened the door and slowly stepped out, his breathing became more labored while his foot rested outside the door. Swallowing hard he took his cane and walked briskly up the steps into the building, his face downcast as he avoided looking up and walked into the crowded lobby. The plans of the building glimpsed once before came to mind and he drew himself a path to Kinnock's office, a face turned to him in the crowd as the sweat tickled along his collar. With a stiff back and tight lips he made his way through high Georgian halls and up a narrow staircase to an office crowded with desks and papers where two thinly drawn, young men milled about before a grand doorway.

Through force of personality he made his way into Kinnoch's office, where at least he could draw a breath. The two men followed him in, one holding his card with an inscrutable look on his face as Philip walked to the desk, glancing once and then sat down.

"Mr Kinnoch is indisposed," the man's lilt marked him as one of the outer burough's of London. "Lord Doyle, sir."

"Yes, that I understand," Philip responded matter of factly as he sat on the chair. Wondering what the men would say if they knew Kinnoch was lying dead on his parlor floor, or where ever his servants had removed the body to a more convenient location to be found by the Yard. "I will still wait here, tea if you please."

The man gaped and opened and closed his mouth, looking at the other for a moment for support. The other shrugged his shoulders and they left, closing the door softly as they left him alone in the office. Philip kept his seat, hands on the cane between his legs, for a moment as he drew a deep breath. "Kinnoch really ought to get a better class of secretaries, though I suppose he is more disposed to dealing with matters on his own and browbeating if they give in this easily. I will have to test my own later," speaking softly to himself walked around the desk his eyes scanning.

Looking for not only what is there, but what was not, or recently had been. A quick rifle through the drawers, including a quick picking of the locked drawer on the bottom left, a scoff at the simplicity of the lock brought up a small black book that he lay on the desk to see what page it might drop open to.
 
The small black book opens to a page that grabs Philip's attention right away. Philip learns that the currency issue goes much deeper than he had thought as he reads a list of names and companies involved. With the added security of knowing that he has a stealthy, unseen companion lurking nearby, Philip searches harder for any information that might lead him to find Shannon. However, a very unfamiliar name found in the book bothers him "Who is Osmodeus" he wonders. Phillip has a very extensive memory and he's certain he's never met an Osmodeus or heard the name before, if it is a company's name. Familiar with the meaning of the word, he contemplates it's relevance as he searches harder.

Philip turns his body for a moment to quietly moves some papers around and freezes in fear, thinking that he has made a bit too much noise. Could this be it, with no leads, no home that he could go back to, no knowledge of where Shannon could be, and at risk of being walked in on at any moment.
 
Other than the Biblical usage of the name, which in itself bothers him that someone would even consider using it, the word in its form reminds Philip of the alchemical journals he played with as a youth. All in fun, they did have a more subtle form of interest, the binding of the mysterious to the mundane. That anyone, or any group, would use such a name meant they were learned in some form. Or at least they wanted someone to think so.

Unworried about the others in the outer office he waits for his tea and wanders through the office, sure that his position and status will allow him to overcome difficulties if they should arise. Putting his previous worries to rest with concern for Shannon realized how much he had relied on her, how much he truly needed her. Able to give her the simplest of his thoughts she was more than willing to carry them out, and in a form that he would have expected. "Ah my dear," he murmured to himself as he looked about the office finding the housekeeping sloppy, and little else of interest.

Committing the useful page to memory he replace it in the drawer and locking it again was staring at the books on the wall when the secretary came back with a small tray. Wiping a finger on the shelf looked upon it distastefully as he saw the slight film of dust on it, wiping it across the blotter on the desk he looked at the tea, the faint scent of almonds arising from the steam of the pot. Clucking his tongue Philip looked upon the secretary his eyes narrowed in distaste, placing the top of his cane in the hollow of the man's chest.

"With an office in this condition I don't think my time will be served by waiting, I would be covered in the same dust as these books if I waited for Kinnoch." Philip used his cane to keep the man in place while he walked around him, he would have suspected something in the tea but detectable arsenic was just pathetic. "Don't bother telling Kinnoch of my visit, I am not sure he would be capable of handling my business if this is how he keeps his office." A hand waved around as if it answered any question the secretary might have of him.

Walking out of the office into the fore area, the other secretary coming into his path with a face that contained a mixture of surprise and concern. Philip used the cane to spin the man around, pushing the tip into the man's shoulder, getting him to fall into the doorway to the arms of the other coming out. Slack jawed and open mouthed they watched as he left the room, closing the door with a hint of anger and walking back through the hallways stood at the entry to the building, his coachman waiting below. The afternoon rains had already begun, the coachman coming up with an umbrella escorted him back to the carriage to where he would decide his next step.
 
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