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Message: <blockquote data-quote="bruin" data-source="post: 1042951" data-attributes="member: 12587">Gaines pops his head in, looking slightly annoyed.  “Mr. Thurber will be with you in just one moment,” he says.A few minutes later, a tall, slightly graying man walks into the room and introduces himself as James Thurber.  “Thank you all for agreeing to come in so quickly.  Time is of the essence for this … assignment.  Please don’t mind Gaines, he’s a very valuable aide and I think he somewhat resents being tasked with such an …” he stops for a moment, looking for the right words, “unorthodox set of duties.  As well he should.”“You see, you aren’t being employed here by my law firm.  I’m hiring you on a personal matter…  Well personal isn’t quite right.  I suppose I should just start at the beginning.”“A few days before I placed the ad in the Globe, I was accosted by a very strange fellow as I was leaving the building, a man calling himself Renard.  He was seeking information about a friend of my grandfather’s, a man named Richard Upton Pickman.  You see, my grandfather used to associate with a group of dilettantes who frequented Boston’s art scene.  Some, like Pickman, were artists themselves; though the ghastly abominations of that horrible fellow hardly deserve to be called art in my opinion.”“Apparently, Renard’s employer is desperate to acquire a rare book that was known to be in Pickman’s possession.  All of their other leads proved to be dead ends, so I was apparently the last relative of Pickman’s known associates that they questioned.”“I was rather shocked at the mention of Pickman.  You see, my grandfather suffered a history of mental problems subsequent to his last contact with the man.  When my father was only ten, my grandfather committed suicide, apparently driven to the edge by something that had happened.  My dad kept one of his old diaries; in them, my grandfather raved all about all manners of monstrosities; he was quite mad to be sure.  Looking at Pickman’s trash, it’s no wonder he went batty; Pickman used to draw these grotesque, horrible creatures, you see, enough to make you feel a little crazy yourself.  An art collector I know has one of his paintings, and it’s quite ghastly I assure you.”“Anyway, in one of his diary entries he mentioned a rather bizarre encounter he had with Pickman one night.  It was the last time he, or anyone else, ever saw him.  I told Renard about this and he was quite anxious to see the diary.  I let him borrow it, and the next day he called me back, asking if I would be willing to serve as an intermediary to hire a team of local investigators to follow up on some of the leads they’ve uncovered in the diary.  Apparently since they don’t know Boston well enough, and the clues are somewhat related to local history, they wanted people with a variety of skills who know the area well enough to follow up on the leads they’ve discovered.  Why they didn’t just contact a private investigation agency is beyond me; they insisted on freelancers for some reason.”“So the assignment is this: on successfully acquiring the book and delivering it directly to Renard’s employer, you will each receive a deposit of $3000 to your bank accounts.  They will forward me the money and I will disburse it to each of you, getting a similar cut for myself for administering the process.”“In addition, according to the diary, Pickman also had quite a few of those awful paintings in his possession when my grandfather last saw him.  You know I don’t think much of his painting, but the art collector I mentioned is willing to pay a modest sum of $2000 for each painting you acquire.  You can deliver any that you may find to me here, and I’ll handle it like the other payments.  That's $2000 total, split 5 ways, for $400 each, for each painting.”“Of course, you’ll need to visit Renard and his employer as soon as you can, so that they can familiarize you with the clues they want followed up on, as well as to familiarize yourself with a description of the book in question.  Apparently they have another copy already; I didn’t ask why they want a second copy, but I suppose they want one in better condition or something.”“Of course, if your investigation is unsuccessful,” Thurber pauses for emphasis, “Neither you nor I will receive any payment at all,” he concluded.  “When you find something, get in touch with me again and let me know.  Here is the address and phone number of Renard.  He and his employer are renting a place in Arkham somewhere, up the coast a bit by the Miskatonic, before you reach Innsmouth.  Shouldn’t be too bad of a drive.”“Are there any questions?”</blockquote>

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