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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Hurtoc" data-source="post: 917326" data-attributes="member: 3893">Continued...[Riley]Riley moves over to the table and pours himself some wine. "An intriguing puzzle, that is certain."  He takes a sip.  "Luckily, I enjoy a good puzzle," he says, smiling, then takes a longer drink.  He eyes the food, but doesn't take anything, instead turning back to face the group. "As Mr. Marconi stated earlier, my name is Riley Grossbart.  Professor Hahn was my mentor, so it is not surprising that I am here to take on this riddle.  I can also understand the link between you, Ms. Hargreaves, and the Professor, although I'm not sure why he would tax you with this.  Mr. Howard's relationship has already been explained by Mr. Marconi's reading of the will, but I am curious about the relationship Mr. Smith had with him, as well as what his involvement with this is." Riley rubs his finger over his glass rim, swirling the contents slightly, looking towards Jim Smith expectantly.[Iron Jaw]Jim Smith seems out of his element but comfortable at the same time, in fact he seems like he would be comfortable almost anywhere.   The most striking thing about him is in fact the feature that gave him his nickname, his jaw is pronounced and muscular you suspect from his years behind a sax.  He looks to the man who addressed him, his hands are in his pockets as he says " Well, I hardly knew him.  I spent a little time at his pad, he met me down at the club and said he liked my music... that it gave him some peace of mind. "  He flashes a bright smile, " But hell, I don't know why he would want to leave me $400 grand, but I'm not complainin'." [Phil]Phil  momentarily appraises Riley's interest in wine. "I don't much care for it," he says absently, while sniffing about the table for a bottle of Scotch.  Philip Howard hasn't touched wine since France in 1918.  And that's why.   But anyone can see he has touched plenty of Scotch. He finds near the back of the table that the Professor had not forgotten him.  The shot he pours is more than generous, and probably more than genteel under the circumstances. As if he cares. "$400,000 is a lot of dough.  And I don't hear his relatives squawking about it going to strangers, either," he adds pointedly.  It's not good business for a detective to get too breezy in front of clients, but Phil appears entirely comfortable with these younger people. Phil's brown eyes rivet each of the other guests in rapid turn.  Eyes that search, but eyes that reassure. "Before the Great Crash, New York was bulging with documents that the wealthy gents called 'valuable', and you'd be amazed how many of those documents could just grow legs and start walkin'.  I had a good trade in getting them back."   Phil hopes his voice didn't betray just how much emphasis his heart felt on that word "had".  "I think we can find some notes that no one really wants easy enough." He downs his shot as if already toasting a life of ease in Havana.[Riley]Riley continues to swirl the wine, not really drinking it.  He pauses for several moments, thinking. "Well, there is obviously reasoning that we can't see.  But I must agree with Mr. Howard's assessment.  Finding a few notes shouldn't be too difficult, provided we have clues as to where they may be found.  I trust that Mr. Howard and Mr. Marconi already have a destination in mind to look first.  I am rather curious what was found in both Egypt and Antartica.  Perhaps Mr. Howard can fill us in on what he has already uncovered in his investigations." He hesitates once again, then continues, "A whole year without memories.  It is rather peculiar." He turns and looks at Alice. "Ms. Hargreaves, you were the Professor's nurse.  What was his cause of death?  Did he have any type of head trauma or some other indication of amnesia to account for that lost year?"</blockquote>

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