(PC) Let's Play Mystery Case Files: Ravenhearst Part 2
1BRIEFING
Entry #2 (An Intriguing Man)
October 6, 1894
The Autumn Formal was absolutely what my homesick heart required. Any time is an occasion for dance, as my father is one to proclaim. I felt at home for the first time since my arrival in England.
This evening’s revelry also brought an encounter with a dashing young man by the name of Charles Dalimar. An exceptionally handsome fellow, this one. I do believe he requested my hand for the better half of the gala! When not dancing about like two of my young students, we were engrossed in conversations, both enthralling and mundane. I must have made quite an impression, for his eyes did not long take leave of mine.
Time Limit (Standard/Relaxed): 34 minutes/68 minutes
Required Items: 22
Total Items: 24
LOCATIONS
Dining Room: 8
Entry: 8
Servant’s Quarters (Lock Puzzle #2): 8
THE LOCKSMITH
Chapter 2 – Myrtle
Despite the bizarre circumstances of Victor’s death, Terry slowly forgot about the event. Still, he did take the time to scrutinize the book and the keys he gave him before storing them in his upstairs apartment. Flipping through the pages, he confirmed that the book was indeed a diary, though he never took the time to actually read the passages. However, he could not make heads or tails about the signature scrawled on the front cover. Apparently, the book was once the property of a woman named Emma Ravenhearst. Terry had never heard of the woman in his life, not to mention was too busy with his pub to further investigate the matter. It would be over four years later that he would finally begin to investigate the mystery. Much like the circumstances of Victor’s final visit, this too would be catalyzed by a noteworthy bar patron.
October 14, 2005 was an otherwise typical day for Merrow’s Cove. By that point, the blistering heat of summer had been supplanted by the soggy gloom of autumn. Though the pub’s halcyon days of peak tourist season were long past, Terry still managed grind on thanks to the patronage of local regulars and visiting travelers alike. Nevertheless, he noticed that this was the time of year where unusual patrons seemed to blend in with one another.
One such visitor, however, elicited Terry’s attention – a woman who had stopped in during the afternoon. Compared to the informality of the pub’s regulars, her demeanor was permeated by an alien form of professionalism. Her dark brown hair was put up in a tight bun, complementing her similarly shaded satchel almost perfectly. She had asked for a John Collins – a cocktail Terry noted for both its rare demand in the area and as the drink of choice for visiting Londoners.
After serving her first cocktail, the woman introduced herself as Myrtle Dalimar, a popular historian who had covered the Victorian era in a series of best-selling novels. Terry himself had heard of her primarily through book reviews he had read during slower business days and documentaries he watched after particularly fraying days at the bar. The consensus from critics was that, despite her youth, she was a rising celebrity in her field. This contrasted significantly with when he questioned Victor about if he knew about her, often replying curtly with “Never heard of her. Never would care of her.”
Wanting to chat (and undeniably smitten), Terry asked Myrtle why she was stopping in at an establishment like his pub. She responded that she was, in fact, following a lead for her latest project, one that she suspected would be her most important manuscript yet. Myrtle elaborated that she uncovered that her great-granduncle, a man who had invented one of the first modern psychiatric medications, was one of Blackpool’s first true aristocrats. However, her intent went beyond hagiography. During her research, she found that, in multiple newspapers, his name was linked to the suspected disappearance of an American woman, named Emma Ravenhearst, though investigations on the matter ended in more acquittals than convictions.
Initially stating that the name sounded familiar, it dawned on Terry that he was, in fact, in possession of Emma’s diary ever since the night of Victor’s death. Upon mentioning Victor’s name, Myrtle’s disposition shifted, charged with the enthusiasm of a detective isolating a lead. Based on her research, she stated that Victor was, in fact, her distant cousin. A recluse, he had spent the majority of his adulthood maintaining his family’s estate, a majestic, albeit dilapidated, manor located on a sprawling tract of coast to the north of town, coincidentally named after Ravenhearst herself. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Myrtle’s drink had been reduced to a glass of melting ice cubes, a few woeful slivers bobbing in a futile attempt to avoid becoming liquefied.
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