Phillips harbour
Tuesday October 6, 1868
On his own, the chimpanzee climbs easily over the stone wall. Most of the graveyard is in full view of the house, however, and the sunny day makes it difficult to see into it to tell if the occupant is looking his way.
Taking the standpoint that if anyone else were to have poked around with an eye toward desecrating the graveyard, they would hardly have done so in plain view of the undertaker, Mr. Hobson, Caliban decides to start by investigating the forest around the graveyard for signs of fresh tracks or unusual scents. Besides, as his master has told him every now and then, good brandy deserves time to savor!
Caliban scurries through the trees at a slow pace, eyes glancing side to side as a previous master taught him to do, using the trunks and the underbrush for cover from the direction of the house.
As he's making his way through the trees, Caliban follows the progress of his master to the house, and notices the door opening.
The chimpanzee startles the gamboling squirrels as he sidles amongst the trees, but he catches no one else's attention. He reaches the north side in time to see Mr. Shaft disappear into the small house. The new, unmarked grave is at the farthest corner from the house, and it's obviously very fresh, with brown earth piled over the top, looking damp but not muddy.
Seeing no obvious signs of wheelbarrow tracks, the monkey hunkers down for a bit in a shady spot to survey the house, checking for windows that might be looking over the graveyard. Give 'em a bit of time, he thinks to himself.
While there are no wheelbarrow tracks, there are multiple sets of fresh footprints in the ground around the new grave -- no great surprise, since someone had to dig it and fill it. No tools from the dig are in evidence; apparently the gravedigger is conscientious about his work. As Caliban watches the house, he can see shadows moving through one of the west windows, overlooking the graveyard. Looks like the men have moved into that room.
The ape rubs his chin thoughtfully, licking at his feeth to get some of the apple-skin off. After a bit when he's sure his master's had a chance to engage the undertaker in conversation - hopefully Master didn't seat him looking out that window - making use of the shadows, he moves up closer to give the footprints a brief look-over to see if they are of different shoes, and where they come from, or to where they go.
After careful consideration, Caliban decides the tracks are from three different pairs of shoes. One, probably the gravedigger's, has left the most prints around the perimeter of the grave. The other two sets might've been visitors: it looks like they simply came down the stepping-stone path and then left again the same way.
Interesting... Y'know, old chap, I bet this is the sailor's grave. No marker, and who's died lately? The ape scratches behind an ear, pondering who'd visit such a grave, studying the prints of the visitors. After a bit, he decides to continue along the perimeter of the graveyard and scout for graves that are recent enough to interest his master, as well as for tracks leading to or away from the graveyard.
The adjoining plot is the graveyard of an old woman, judging by the writing on the white wooden marker: Judith Albason, Born June 2, 1792 Died September 1, 1868.
Mm. Month old. Maybe starting to get a little ripe. Good for cheese, bad for fruit. I'll have to ask the boss. The ape repeats the footprint check, taking a glance now and then to see if an outraged udnertaker is staring out the window.
Caliban can see shapes moving through the window now and again, but no outcry is coming from the little house. It doesn't look like anyone's visited Mrs. Albason recently enough to leave visible tracks -- but then again, Sunday's rain would've washed away most footprints from the days prior. The next grave is even older, with the marker dating it to June.
The ape wrinkles his nose. He glances toward the rest of the graveyard to see if anything jumps out to his attention - say, strange markers, crypts, flowers at a really old grave. There's gonna be a lot of competition for Mr. Tattoo and Mrs. Albason...
The cemetary is fairly modest in scope, with the most impressive monument being a large granite headstone with a small angel carved on the top. The yard has no crypts at all. Several graves have recent flowers laid on them, however, most of them looking bedraggled from Sunday's rains.
Glancing at the house now and then, using headstones for cover when possible, the ape moves in closer to see whose graves those might be.
The nearest graves to have flowers are those of Marianne and Walter Jensen, died 1858 and 1868, respectively. The flowers are very simple bouquets, just a few white blossoms each. The one grave with the elaborate headstone is uncomfortably close to the house, although at least there's enough space behind it to use it for cover if he got close to it.
By this time, the ape is starting to feel a little antsy. How long can the boss keep up a good line of patter? he wonders. He backs out of the graveyard, rubbing the dirt where he's been to try and clear his tracks, then goes through the line of the forest toward the house, to get a better vantage point on that marker, and also to see if there are any unusual trails around the house itself.
There's a trail behind the house to a shed out back, although there's nothing unusual-looking about it. The chimpanzee can't see any obvious tracks other than the ones leading from the latest grave. Even the prints of whoever left the flowers by the Jensens' plots have been washed away since.
Don't think I'm gonna learn much more from the graves, the ape thinks. What's Mr. Hobson got in his shed? Tools, I bet, but maybe he's got a hobby... He looks up at the branches in case he's being shadowed by a bird, then starts down the trail.
The chimpanzee reaches the shed without difficulty. He doesn't see Miss Pau's nightingale, but he does catch the eye of a crow watching him idly from a tree. The shed door is latched but not locked.
"Ook, eek," the chimp says softly to the crow, noticing it. G'day to you, friend. You mind if I have a look around here?
The crow bridles its wings, looking surprised at being noticed. It caws back, Would it make a difference if I did? in tones of insolent indifference.
Well, I might feel bad about doing it, the chimp returns. Name's Caliban. You with the undertaker?
What, with him? The crow gives a cawing laugh. Waster of good eatin', that's what he is!
Caliban grins and heads for the shed then, checking the latch and the door jamb for telltales. Well, each to their own, humans'd rather feed the worms than the birds. So, you hang out here a lot then?
The crow caws another laugh. Yeah, leastways I can eat the worms.
You didn't happen to see the last mook that got buried out yonder? wonders the chimp, ooking up at the tree quietly. He looks behind himself as a good thief is supposed to do, making sure there's no one human around before trying the latch and door.
Only animals are around to see as Caliban tests the latch. It works well and the door opens easily, on oiled hinges. The interior of the shed is dim and windowless, lit only by the light allowed in from the door. Inside is a wheelbarrow and an assortment of digging and gardening tools on shelves. There are also several folded canvas tarps. At the far wall, more canvas tarps are wrapped around some large objects propped against it.
The crow flies over and lands on the top of the door after Caliban opens it. It peers in curiously, itself. Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't.
The monkey ooks up at the crow as he peeks inside, Well, maybe you missed it, what a shame! I'm thinking it was a really scarily cut-up guy, lots of tattoos... Pretty incredible, really. Looking back at the trail to be sure it is still clear, then inward, he sneaks into the depth of the shed to examine the wrapped objects more closely, eyes and hands and nose at the ready. Could they be bodies?
Oh and hey, give me a heads up if you see someone coming, 'kay?
The crow clacks its beak together. Waste of good food, it repeats, annoyed. But it brings its head up out of the shed long enough to look around the yard while Caliban goes inside.
The chimpanzee ignores the tools - expected - and goes straight to the tarped objects, intent on just a quick check before he scoots out to relatch the door.
One of the wrapped bundles is long and thin, the other wide, tall, and flat, and another thick and bulky. None of them are remotely human shaped, and unwrapping a corner of one of the object reveals polished wood underneath.
Interesting... Don't really have time to check this out, Caliban decides reluctantly. At least I know the guy isn't a closet mass murderer saving up for a rainy day. He heads for the door to close up again.
Nothing good? the crow caws, flapping off the door as Caliban steps out and pushes it shut.
Naw, just some furniture, the ape reports as he latches the door and heads for the trees.
Bah. The crow follows Caliban into the pines, landing on one of the tree limbs over his head.
The monkey shrugs as he sets off to survey the graveyard again, to see if his master might be waiting outside for him. Don't you worry, things're gonna get a lot more interesting this month, I've got a feeling about that. So you got a name, or am I gonna have to call you 'Hey you'?
'Hey you' works, the crow answers, with a shrug of its wings. It stops following the chimpanzee as the chimp wanders the perimeter of the graveyard, although the crow is still watching Caliban. It looks to Caliban as though Mr. Shaft is still inside.
However, as Caliban's looking around for Mr. Shaft, he see another human emerge from the back door to the house. This young man has a perplexed look on his face as he's walking towards the shed.
Eh, I already call too many critters 'Hey You', Caliban says to the crow. How about Nevermore? Catching sight of the human, he shrinks into the underbrush some distance away from the trail, willing himself to become part of the shadows.
Whatever, Nevermore says, but when the chimp glances his way, he notices a gleam in the crow's eye that suggests it's pleased.
Meanwhile, the human spares a glance for the crow, but doesn't look in Caliban's direction. Instead, he opens the shed door and goes inside for a few minutes.
The monkey looks over to the shed speculatively. Asked to fetch something? Checking on those wrapped objects for Mr. Hobson? He considers for a moment shutting the human in the shed, but decides while that might be funny, it would get in the way of finding out which of these applies, so he simply waits.
The man steps out again, looking even more perplexed. It's hard to be sure at this distance, but Caliban's pretty sure the man is Mr. Hobson, now that he can see his face. Hobson closes the door behind him, then checks carefully to make sure the latch caught and is holding. Shaking his head, he walks back into the house.
Did he sense me disturbing those objects? the monkey thinks to himself, now a little more worried. After he's sure Mr. Hobson is out of earshot, he mutters to Nevermore, I'm starting to think maybe that wasn't just furniture our waster of food is hiding in there.
What? He's not keeping more food in there, is he? the crow asks. Nevermore spreads his wings and flaps back over to the shed. He never keeps food in there.
Nah, I mean maybe he's got magical stuff in there. Stuff that, like... The chimpanzee rubs his chin as he studies the house, now anxious for his master to be done in there. For sure those objects can only be investigated when Mr. Hobson's away. Picture something that unmakes food, brings it back to life. That'd be a real waste, wouldn't it? Hard to say what he's got though.
Ha, the bird caws. If he had something to make food not dead, it'd be in the ground, not the shed. That's where he puts all the food, in the ground, and leaves it there forever. Wasted on worms! Fat worms, though, tasty.
The chimp grins up at Nevermore, thinking the bird doesn't seem likely to be one of the players' Companions. Well, whatever it is, it could be trouble. Let me know if you see anything interesting, all right? Maybe I can find you some food in exchange.
Food, huh? So ... what are you interested in? Nevermore asks, looking suddenly cagey.
Oh, let's see. You're probably gonna have some more visitors to the graveyard than usual, maybe going after the old food, maybe doin' some other strange stuff. Me and the boss might be around, but we want to know who else is, the chimpanzee suggests. Don't get involved, just keep an eye out, and there could be plenty of food to go around.
Nevermore makes a noncomittal caw and rustles its wings. I'll remember that.
Right. Nice meeting you, Nevermore, Caliban says. He sidles through the forest toward the front of the house. He thinks to himself, it was kind of silly to have him scout things out when they could have just walked around the graveyard like normal people... But his master commands.
I think I've got a plan... the ape thinks to himself as he waits near the road. Simplicity itself: at night, lure Mr. Hobson into the shed by messin' with those objects, lock him in, then dig up the grave and stop by in the morning with the boss to let him out. But... What if he can open the shed door from the inside? He sneaks back to the shed to check this, and looks disgruntled to find that there seems to be a handle on the inside for just such a purpose. Rubbing his chin, the chimpanzee studies the door to see if the latch can be jammed. If not, he'll have to come up with a different plan.
The chimp sees no obvious way to jam the latch mechanism, but a wedge of wood shoved into the crack between the door and frame might be enough to keep it closed. While he's pondering the problem, he hears Mr. Hobson and Mr. Shaft's voices at the front door, saying their goodbyes.
That'll have to be good enough. I'll go dig up some scrap wood, thinks Caliban as he closes the door, then wiggles it a bit to see how much wiggle room it has. Test it out on a regular door, and then if it works, we're in business. Hope the boss wasn't seriously expecting me to produce a body in broad deadlight. I mean, I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker...