The Many Mysteries of Murder in the Metropolis

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Laggy Lagiacrus, Oct 31, 2012.

  1. “Ah! Graves, there you are!”
    Dressed in a just-about fitting ensemble of a sly-blue button-up shirt and a pair of mud-brown trousers, one Jonathan Browning approached his acquaintance, and sat next to him on the park bench. It was, by all accounts, a fairly normal day – the air had a nip in it, there was the perpetual sound of half-hearted and/or drunken abuse, and litter intermittently dotted the grass – it was, for all intents and purposes, largely green. Graves turned his head towards he who had dared address him, and returned the jovial greeting with his own neutral, yet analytical, gaze.

    “What is it now, John?”
    The response, swiftly started but not delivered, was in the usual deadpan tone. Frederick Graves was not the kind of man to give off a sociable aura, nor did he ever attempt to maintain one in the event of inadvertently gaining someone’s attention. He returned himself to watching the passers-by, seemingly looking for someone. And, despite his best interests, Jonathan continued to speak, while Frederick tried to observe.
    “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”