EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
Prologue
October 3th, 1922 • Arkham, Massachusetts.
It was a typical autumn evening in Arkham. The once green trees that were a common sight among the estates of the rich and powerful around Millhaven district were now a plethora of magnificent colored leaves, each slowly falling with each gust of cold wind. Among these estates was the Bakker estate, home to the well-known Belgian-American magnate Theodore Bakker and his daughter, famous actress Martha Bakker. The estate house itself was nothing but impressive and rather extravagant in design, which bore heavy resemblance to the many château's of France. The inside of the house can only be described as convoluted, due to the large amount of rather exotic items found in each room which ranged from ancient and quite impressive foreign decorations such as African masks hanging from the wall, Meso-American jewelry and statues, and even 13th century medieval armors in exquisite condition, however, other items ranged into the strange and esoteric, with daggers of queer design safely kept in protective cases and bookshelves full of books dedicated to the occult, written by unknown, forgotten authors.
Up stairs, Martha Bakker found herself in a daily situation. Right after waking up from a well-deserved rest, she was applied her make-up while still wearing her sleeping gown. And as usual, her husband, John Readings entered the room uninvited. He gave his wife a tired, frustrated look as he approached her. "You were supposed to attend the Woodrow's art gallery, but of course, I find you sulking in your room. Looking at your own reflection." Said John as moved closer, Martha's eyes followed his movement through the mirror. "I already told you, my dear husband, that today I will have guests over. I can't attend trivial things such as an art gallery. Specifically one hosted by the Woodrows." John crossed his arms, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection in the mirror. "You keep leaving me alone in these meetings. Everyone is talking about it. Don't you care about your reputation, Martha?" The actress shrugged, as she began to apply her lipstick. "...My reputation matters little when compared to more urgent matters. Today, I'll be receiving people that can help me find my father."
John threw his arms in the air, letting a heavy breath in frustration. "Oh, for god's sake, Martha. Leave that to the police. They will find him. He's an old man, he might have gotten lost on the way here after his visit to Boston." Martha glanced over her shoulder. Her stunning but cold blue eyes could make any man or woman stutter in place, it was enough to intimidate John for the moment. "...You know my father was far from senile. Even at his age. Besides, the police found his car in Arkham." Martha returned to her mirror one last time, smiling at the results of her make-up session. She then stood, moving towards her changing room, but then her rather stubborn husband had moved in front of her, blocking her path, with the same frustrated look he had when he walked in.
"...Martha. I'm your husband, god damn it. You might not care about what others say about you, but I care about what they say about me." Martha chuckled a bit, before sighing. "...And what do they say about me? That I'm an adulteress?" She continued to giggle at the thought. "...That I broke my vows before God in pursuit of earthly pleasures? You know better, John... I hate people, just as much as I hate you." She walked past him, watching his expression change from frustration to anger as she entered her changing room. "Go to your little art gallery, and gawk at the Woodrows' antics all you want... I have more important business to attend to."
Meanwhile...
At the front of the estate, a taxi pulls to a stop and from it emerges a young woman wearing a rather elegant red dress. After paying the driver, the vehicle drove away leaving the young woman alone in front of the Bakker state. After looking at the state of her dress, she approached the front gate and was quickly welcomed by the gardener of the Bakker estate, a fellow black American like herself, the older gentleman gave her a friendly smile before asking. "Hello there, madame. How can I help you?" The young lady returned the smile, and gave him a nod. "Hello there, good sir. I was invited by madam Martha Bakker. She requires my services here, let me show you the invitation." After taking a moment to rumage through her purse, the young woman pulled a letter, an invitation to the state signed by none other than Martha Bakker herself.
As the gardener looked at the letter, another stranger approached the gates. A rather simple but nonetheless attractive man of sturdy frame wearing a fedora and a coat. He looked over the woman, and took off his hat to speak with her. "Uhm... can I ask you a question, ma'am? Is this the Bakker estate? I'm from Boston and I'm a bit of a stranger to Arkham." The lady nodded while waiting for the gardener to speak again. "Yes, you are in the right location. Were you invited by Madame Bakker as well, sir?" The man shook his head while giving her a polite smile. "I'm afraid I was not but I do know of her fathers disappearance, she seems to be looking for private detectives and other type of investigators. A friend of mine in the Pinkerton Agency told me of her case, and suggested me to pay her a visit. I heard that she was gathering volunteers of all walks of life here today so... I thought, why not help her?" As the two strangers talked with one another, another unknown began to approach the front gate of the estate. Seemingly invited by Martha Bakker herself or heard rumors of her need for volunteers.
