April 28th, 1896, London.
7:13 in the evening.
Second floor sitting room.

"A pair of tens"

"You've beaten me again Colonel" said Arnold Meyer, in a rather lackluster voice, as he placed his cards on the small table. The highest cards in his hand were a lowly pair of sevens. He had been hoping, that he would've gotten something to complement the king spades or the ace f hearts that he had held onto. No such luck and a lost of fifteen shillings. Maybe it was sign, that when coupled with his boredom, that he really did need to get out of England for a while. Add it to the most unusual mail he had received this morning and maybe it was God (or some messenger angle) telling him to so somewhere sunny and warm for a bit.

"Have no fear Lef-tenant" chortled Colonel Goodman, an old and rather portly gentleman who had served in India, "Play a few more hands and your luck will turn."

The old man, who had retired from all things (save for drinking, cards and more meals then was good for him), was one of the few members of the Over-Seas Explorers Club, who could be constantly found at the meeting house. There were a few others, who had likewise grown too old to head out into the field and spent most of their time swapping stories or staring wistfully at the large world map, where other members of the club had mark the general area of the world they had headed off to. The number of actively exploring members at the meeting house was always in flux, save for their probationers, who would always be at the clubhouse. After their first exploration while in the club, they become full-fledged members.

"Excuse me sirs" announced Johnson, a youthful but professional butler, as he handed a packet to Arnold, "My lord, I have examined the map as you asked me to and it appears genuine but given how you came by it, I would suggest sending for a professional."

"Thank you Johnson" said Lord Meyer.

"What have you got there Lef-tenant" inquired Goodman, looking up from his glass of Port and the deck of cards he was reshuffling.

"A rather interesting map Colonel" answered Arnold, "Which I have acquired from an unknown benefactor."

"Indeed" said Goodman, leaning his considerable bulk across the table and peering at the plain brown paper, which concealed the map, "And what are you going to do with it?"

"Well" said Lord Meyer, raising his voice so the rest of the room could hear him, "The map claims to lead one to a great Incan treasure in South America. I was considering going down and having a look around."

April 28th, 1896, London.
7:13 in the evening.
Second floor sitting room.

Ashley sat quietly in a plush chair in the corner, idly watching the Colonel and Lef-tenant play cards, at least his eyes were cast in their direction. His mind was busy wondering on what his next trip should include. He was torn between South Africa and India at the moment, and going over the ups and downs of each. He had recently received a new camera, much easier to carry, and was anxious to see how it performed in the field.

As he weighed his options, about to settle mostly on India, the thought of South America lodged itself into his head. It took him a moment to realize the thought had originated from Arnold Meyer's statement.

"The map claims to lead one to a great Incan treasure in South America. I was considering going down and having a look around."

"Wonder why I hadn't thought of that before." Ashley mussed to himself, his Southern American accent a sharp contrast to the English accents in the room. He didn't press the thought however, he'd wait for some confirmation on said map before throwing his approval behind the idea of shipping off to South America. Of course he approved of the idea map or not, he just didn't feel the need to say so as of yet.

April 28th, 1896, London.
7:14 in the evening.
Second floor sitting room.

Arnold glanced around the room with a smile under his bushy moustache. Several of the club members, looked as if he had sparked an interest with his little announcement. It was a little like fishing. The bait was in the water and there were nibbles, now he just needed to set the hook and land a few companions. The best way in fishing, would to jerk the rod just as a fish nibbled. Here in this sitting room, the best was to set the hook, would to get someone to authenticate the map. Someone respect in their field but not so caught up in the past, that they were unaware of current events.

“Johnson” said Lord Meyer, “Please send word to Dr. Preston Harvey, that I have a map, which I think would interest him and that I could use some authentication on. I cordially invite the good Doctor to join us here, for a few drinks and a look at the map, if he has time.”

“Of course Sir” said the butler, with a slight bow and leaving the room.

It would take almost half an hour to reach the office, where Doctor Harvey maintained himself and a rather large collection of books, artifacts and maps. So for the time being, as they had at least an hour to kill, Arnold placed the packet containing the map on a table, poured himself another drink and took the deck of cards from Goodman, to start another hand.

* April 28th, 1896, London.
Office of Dr. Preston Harvey *

Abigail Avery was not a woman often prone to fits, but at the moment she was somewhat in a tizzy. This morning had been a complete nightmare, and the afternoon had been little better. Violent compulsions were new to Abby, but at the moment, if her current employer Dr. Harvey were not already on a ship taking him to the other end of the globe, she would have liked to shoot the man with his own decorative pistol. Coming into the office this morning to see the Dr. nowhere in sight should have been the first sign that Abby’s day was about to take a very bad turn, but this intuition would not be confirmed until almost noon when she receive a telegram from him reading:

Abby,

I’ve been invited on an expedition to Egypt by an old school chap of mine. Very last minuet, but very important work. I’m sure you understand. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, so be a good bird and hold down the fort until my return. Tell the boys their papers will be in the mail, and be sure to keep my accounts in order.

-Dr. Preston Harvey

Abby has spent the rest of the day explaining to the good Dr.’s business associates, and a particularly rude and disgruntled group of college students, that Dr. Harvey was not available, no she did not know when he would be back, nor did she know where in Egypt he was going and could not produce a mailing address. Predictably, no one had taken that news well, and as most did in the world of academia; relieved their own stress by verbally berating the one closest to the person causing the problem; which, unfortunately for Abby, happened to be her. The majority of her day had been snooty men of the upper crust telling her in detail how she was an incompetent, silly, little girl, because Harvey hadn’t had to decency to give her fair warning, or even any details before he weaselled his way out of the country on his “expedition”. More likely an old boys pleasure trip to Cairo with some of his old chums from Cambridge, and the prick had left her behind and specifically given her nothing to calm his frantic associates and students with so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.

As she was filing documents in the office’s filing cabinet on the second floor, a knock came from the old wood door. “Come in!” Abby called down, an almost exasperated note in her voice. Johnson, looking a bit out of breath came into the office immediately, and pulled a handkerchief and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Dr. Harvey? Are you aloft Sir? Your presence is requested at the Over-seas Explorers Club for civilized conversation and some drinks. It seems your particular brand of expertise is needed.” Johnson called up, obviously thinking the good Dr. was aloft.

“Well it’s good to know that’s how Harvey’s been spending his work hours. I’m afraid you’ll need to get in line directly behind the young college bucks old boy.” Abby said, blowing a stray curl of dark brown hair that had come loose from her coil out of her face, and descended the stairs to the lower level of the office. “Abigail Avery, Dr. Harvey’s assistant.” Abby introduced herself politely but without enthusiasm.

“Well young lady, would you know where I might find Dr. Harvey?” Johnson inquired stiffly.

“Cairo.” Abby related dryly. She did not particularly appreciate being referred to as ‘young lady’ as if she was still some willy nilly school girl. At 24 she wasn’t an old maid, but she wasn’t exactly a spring chicken in most minds either. “But that’s just my educated guess. Dr. Harvey Departed this morning, and has left no indication as to his return.” Abby continued.

“Well bother…”Johnson said under his breath.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Abby offered without any real interest, but it was her job to ask.

“No offense Miss Avery, but the help we required was to authenticate a map produced by one of our members. A person such as yourself would hardly be of help to us, and quite frankly unwelcome inside the club.” Johnson said, appalled by the very thought of what Mr. Goodman would do if he swathe club invaded by yet another female.

“I beg you pardon Sir? A person such as myself? Do elaborate sir as I quite see the merit of your insult.” Abby asked, a tad insulted, and feeling merciless.

“W-well miss, you see, you’re a woman.” Johnson replied quickly.

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that fact. Are there any other insightful tidbits you’d like to add on Sir?” Abby replied in a refined voice so sweet it could kill.

“Oh no miss, I didn’t mean- it’s just- it’s a gentlemen’s club you see, they don’t allow women.” Johnson replied stumbling, as his face began to flush.

“Ahhhh, I see. And, how many experts in this field do you know old boy?” Abby asked in the same tone.

“Well none other than Harvey miss I suppose.” Johnson replied warily.

“And would you describe your employer and club members as particularly patient people when it come to such matters?” Abby asked again.

“No miss, not at all.” Johnson’s reply was almost instant.

“Then I suppose your employers will simply have to settle on me now won’t they, as I am the one you know in London qualified to authenticate maps of various origins. That is, unless you’d like to wait…I’d say three months at the earliest for Dr. Harvey’s return?” Abby said grabbing her coat and bag, mind quite made up. Any chance she had of building a credible reputation of her own that could not be spun off as attached to some other man she worked with, was worth it’s weight in gold, and this looked to be a fine start.

“Miss, please, I must protest! It is a gentleman’s club, and there will be many most indignant at the-” Johnson started, but was quickly cut off by Abby. “I’m sure they will be more indignant should you show up empty handed Sir. Now come along if we are tonot keep your employers waiting, we’ll need to get a move on.”


*Over-Seas Explorers Clubhouse*

“Let me get the door for you miss.” Johnson offered with a nervous air once they’d arrived at the clubhouse, and come to the entryway. He also took her coat and hat, placing them on the hanger, leaving Abby only in her long brown skirt and white blouse. It wasn’t exactly high fashion, but respectable work attire, and unintentionally fetching on her. “Thank you Johnson.” Abby replied politely before stepping through into the crowded room.

“Good Evening gentlemen, I understand it you have a map in need of verified authenticity.” Abby said without introduction.

April 28th, 1896, London.
8:21 in the evening.
Second floor sitting room.


Arnold looked up with some surprise, that the sound of a woman’s voice. He was sure, in all the years the club house had been in the possession of the Overseas-Explorers, none of the fair sex had ever graced the halls. It was turning out to be a very strange day, with the arrival of the map and now the detailed oriented butler had brought the wrong person to the club. His hand of cards was laid face down on the table, as he rose from his seat to greet the young lady. Unfortunately, he as not the only one.

“Good Lord Johnson” thundered Goodman, the old man’s face turning an indigent red and not because he had been drinking port all evening, “We sent for Doctor Harvey not this woman!”

“There there Colonel” said Lord Meyer in a soft tone, while patting the older gentleman’s shoulder, “I’m sure that Johnson has his reasons but for now, we should remember that there is a lady present.”

“Yes” mumbled Goodman, sitting back down. The old army officer’s face was still flushed with blood but it was more embarrassment then anger. In almost a huff, he picked up his glass of port and his hand of cards, slipping the liqueur and trying to hid behind the little slips of paper.

“Now then” said Arnold, turning to face the woman and picking up the packet that contained fold paper, which might lead him to a large treasure, “Might I have the pleasure of your name and how you are able to authenticate maps?”