Session 8 (11) - Fat Mabel's

After reviewing the psychologist's notes, it is now late afternoon. The next lead to follow is the other speakeasy that Anastasia worked at. It's a bit early for that, so Charlie suggests that we ask Lt Poole at the police station about the Juju House.
We head there and sit down to talk with Poole. We ask if he knows anything about the Juju house, as it seems connected to the break in and attempted theft at the carlyle manor - which Poole was looking in to a while back.
He offers to provide back up if we get to the point that we need it, as there is no real evidence to allow the police in currently. Apparently nobody talks to the police in Harlem, especially if they aren't the right colour, and the police don't seem worried about most of the dealings that go on in there because 'they're just black people'.
 
Over the last 2 years, Lt Poole has linked at least 9 murders to the cult we are following, as the same symbol was carved on the bodies. The people are as follows:
Walter Van Buskirk, a private investigator
Rev. Elijah A. Johnson, a Harlem minister
Michael Conley, a longshoreman
Richard “Ritchie C.” Cederecci, a member of the local mafia
Roberta Barlow, a harlem woman
Adolf Thurmond, a new york man
 
Poole mentions that there were some further belongings found at the crime scene of Jackson Elias, and as he had no next of kin, he passes them on to us to give to Jonah Kensington. Most of it is clothing. There are a couple of business cards - one for the Penhew foundation, one for Emerson Imports with the name "Silas N'Kwane" written on the back. There is also a card for the stumbling tiger bar, but there is no such bar in New York.
 
While we have some daylight, we make for Emerson Imports. Everyone jumps in a car and I drive us there. Unfortunately we arrive after they have closed. The sign says open 7am-5pm, I guess we'll come back tomorrow.
To the speakeasy it is! We arrive at Fat Mabel's after 8pm. Its definitely not as upmarket as the cotton club, but is in a new-looking building. We enter and immediately realise we are the only white people to be seen. A very large black woman is standing behind the bar, persumably fat Mabel.
Florence asks for a drink, sliding $5 across the bar. The woman gives her a small measure of brown alcohol, it's some kind of imported canadian whiskey. Charlie buys a drink as well. I'm not sure about the whiskey, so I pay that woman $10 to make me a nice G&T. She looks somewhat impressed and actually cleans her hands before making my drink. She personally brings it to the table on a tray.
 
Nobody else in this place seems approachable, so I head over to the bar to ask Mabel if she knew anyone called Anastasia or Naderu. She recognises the second name, but can't place it's owner. I put another $10 on the bar and ask her if she might have time to jog her memory while preparing another Gin. She mentions that she rents out some rooms to people, and she will show me in there if I'd like to talk to them.
I go back to the table to update my colleagues. We decide that perhaps we wouldn't all be able to go in, but Florence volunteers to go with me as two people shouldn't be too much.
 
Most of the people in these accomodation rooms appear to be 'fresh off the boat' from Africa. They don't really speak any english. I ask them if they know of the Juju House, and that people have been disappearing around there. One person mentions Silas N'Kwane, that he helped get him in to New York to get work. I recognise the name from the back of the Imports business card. Also now that I think about it, we have met him - he was the shopkeep when Florence and I visited the Juju House.
 
Suddenly gunfire erupts from below, scaring the residents back into their rooms. I wonder if our friends perhaps started a fight down there... We draw our own pistols and start to head down, when two men wearing african masks and wielding knives emerge from the top of the stairs. They rush at us! I shoot one in the leg and he tumbles back down the stairs with a scream. The second one is too fast and slashes Florence with his machete, but she shoots him in the guts and his dead body follows the first man down the stairs.
 
We run down and I jump on the injured man, knocking him out. I sling his body over my shoulder and we continue to the main entrance. Everyone is basically lying on the floor - the rest of our group looks very injured. I don't know what happened, but it seems like it would be a very good time to leave. I remember seeing a back door by the stairs, and we flee that way.
 
We huddle in an alleyway out of sight of the bar and the street. Apparently the others were told that there was somebody trying to break into their car, and when they went to investigate they were attacked by some suspicious black men. They killed them but got badly injured themselves. Charlie thinks it wouldn't be a good idea to go back and try to start the car now.
Elizabeth bandages up everyone's wounds, and I tie up the black guy and bandage his leg. We head for somewhere abandoned to hide out for a while. Florence suggests an abandoned warehouse that used to belong to a company that makes aeroplane parts.