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The Golden Key: From the Casebook of Nigel Spenser (Updated 9/16)
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<blockquote data-quote="Kid Charlemagne" data-source="post: 2432723" data-attributes="member: 93"><p>Leo Melthorpe's shop was a short walk from the Royal Exchange. As they approached, the Lloyd's agents could see that the front window of the shop had been shattered, as if from a heavy blow.</p><p></p><p>Artimis Swain looked at the ground outside the shop, ignoring the small crowd of street urchins who had come to gawk at the crime scene.</p><p></p><p>"From outside. Probably a weapon of some sort."</p><p></p><p>Inside the shop, Nigel could see the form of the man he presumed to be Mr. Melthorpe, sweeping up debris and scattered bits and pieces from the floor. He was a roundish man, in his late thirties, with curly dark hair and a bushy mustache. One side of his face was purple and black from a severe beating. With a detached gaze, Nigel watched for any signs that the man was faking his injuries. Quite the contrary, he decided. He was hurt even worse than he seemed.</p><p></p><p>Melthorpe flinched as he heard the bell over his door signalling their entry. Nigel immediately tried to put the man at ease.</p><p></p><p>"We are very sorry to disturb you, Mr. Melthorpe, but we are investigators from Lloyd's of London. We are here to speak to you about your claim."</p><p></p><p>Melthorpe released his white-knuckled grip on his broom.</p><p></p><p>"Oh, thank you, you've come! I will do anything I can to help you in your investigations!"</p><p></p><p>"Perhaps you could answer a few questions?" Orla asked. "We don't want to take up too much of your time."</p><p></p><p>Melthorpe waved them over to a couple of chairs towards the back of the shop, antique furnishments that had been cruelly cut open, and their stuffing pulled out. Nigel and Orla sat down, while Cass and Amanda stood silently, watching over the small shop. Artimis remained outside, looking at the narrow alley and exterior of the shop. Sandor stepped into the back to look at the back door for signs of entry. The back door was in perfect condition.</p><p></p><p>"Could you tell us exactly what happened, Mr. Melthorpe?"</p><p></p><p>"Dear. Well, I had closed up the shop and gone home the other day, when I received an urgent message from an old associate of mine, a Mr. George Hunt. He is a fellow locksmith. The letter asked me to return to my shop at about seven, to meet a customer."</p><p></p><p>"Who delivered the message?" Orla asked.</p><p></p><p>"A young child, a little ragged thing. He just gave it me and left; I had never seen him before."</p><p></p><p>Sandor looked out at the small crowd of urchins outside, and stepped out of the shop.</p><p></p><p>"Shortly after I arrived, a very rough-looking Orkling came in. He didn't say much of anything, just 'Where is it?' and brandished a… a table leg. Wrapped round with iron bands. I said I had no idea what he was talking about, but it was no use."</p><p></p><p>"And he beat you until you gave him what he was looking for?" Nigel asked.</p><p></p><p>"He beat me after I gave it to him!" Melthorpe wailed. "It seemed as if he did it just for his amusement!"</p><p></p><p>"And just what was it he was looking for?"</p><p></p><p>"A key. It was in the safe, along with some money."</p><p></p><p>"Can you describe the key? Forgive my saying so, but considering this policy, it must be very valuable."</p><p></p><p>Melthorpe buried his head in his hands. "It is made of gold, quite old, about two inches in length. It bears a symbol of a raven in flight."</p><p></p><p>"Where did the key come from?" Nigel asked. "I understand the policy was taken out by your father some forty years ago. Do you know where he got it?"</p><p></p><p>"No, I'm afraid I don't."</p><p></p><p>Orla spoke up. "Just what does this key open, to make it so valuable?"</p><p></p><p>Melthorpe's eyes widened. "I… I can't say. If it gets out, I'll be ruined!"</p><p></p><p>"If you don't tell us, and word gets out, the same will apply," Nigel countered. "We are not the police, Mr. Melthorpe. Our job here is to safeguard the property and reputations of the customers of Lloyd's of London."</p><p></p><p>"So what lock does this key open?"</p><p></p><p>"You don't understand!" Melthorpe replied.</p><p></p><p>"It opens <em>everything.</em>"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Kid Charlemagne, post: 2432723, member: 93"] Leo Melthorpe's shop was a short walk from the Royal Exchange. As they approached, the Lloyd's agents could see that the front window of the shop had been shattered, as if from a heavy blow. Artimis Swain looked at the ground outside the shop, ignoring the small crowd of street urchins who had come to gawk at the crime scene. "From outside. Probably a weapon of some sort." Inside the shop, Nigel could see the form of the man he presumed to be Mr. Melthorpe, sweeping up debris and scattered bits and pieces from the floor. He was a roundish man, in his late thirties, with curly dark hair and a bushy mustache. One side of his face was purple and black from a severe beating. With a detached gaze, Nigel watched for any signs that the man was faking his injuries. Quite the contrary, he decided. He was hurt even worse than he seemed. Melthorpe flinched as he heard the bell over his door signalling their entry. Nigel immediately tried to put the man at ease. "We are very sorry to disturb you, Mr. Melthorpe, but we are investigators from Lloyd's of London. We are here to speak to you about your claim." Melthorpe released his white-knuckled grip on his broom. "Oh, thank you, you've come! I will do anything I can to help you in your investigations!" "Perhaps you could answer a few questions?" Orla asked. "We don't want to take up too much of your time." Melthorpe waved them over to a couple of chairs towards the back of the shop, antique furnishments that had been cruelly cut open, and their stuffing pulled out. Nigel and Orla sat down, while Cass and Amanda stood silently, watching over the small shop. Artimis remained outside, looking at the narrow alley and exterior of the shop. Sandor stepped into the back to look at the back door for signs of entry. The back door was in perfect condition. "Could you tell us exactly what happened, Mr. Melthorpe?" "Dear. Well, I had closed up the shop and gone home the other day, when I received an urgent message from an old associate of mine, a Mr. George Hunt. He is a fellow locksmith. The letter asked me to return to my shop at about seven, to meet a customer." "Who delivered the message?" Orla asked. "A young child, a little ragged thing. He just gave it me and left; I had never seen him before." Sandor looked out at the small crowd of urchins outside, and stepped out of the shop. "Shortly after I arrived, a very rough-looking Orkling came in. He didn't say much of anything, just 'Where is it?' and brandished a… a table leg. Wrapped round with iron bands. I said I had no idea what he was talking about, but it was no use." "And he beat you until you gave him what he was looking for?" Nigel asked. "He beat me after I gave it to him!" Melthorpe wailed. "It seemed as if he did it just for his amusement!" "And just what was it he was looking for?" "A key. It was in the safe, along with some money." "Can you describe the key? Forgive my saying so, but considering this policy, it must be very valuable." Melthorpe buried his head in his hands. "It is made of gold, quite old, about two inches in length. It bears a symbol of a raven in flight." "Where did the key come from?" Nigel asked. "I understand the policy was taken out by your father some forty years ago. Do you know where he got it?" "No, I'm afraid I don't." Orla spoke up. "Just what does this key open, to make it so valuable?" Melthorpe's eyes widened. "I… I can't say. If it gets out, I'll be ruined!" "If you don't tell us, and word gets out, the same will apply," Nigel countered. "We are not the police, Mr. Melthorpe. Our job here is to safeguard the property and reputations of the customers of Lloyd's of London." "So what lock does this key open?" "You don't understand!" Melthorpe replied. "It opens [i]everything.[/i]" [/QUOTE]
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