It all started with me being held against my will. Only it wasn't criminals or thieves or crazed cultists or any of the usual suspects, it was Aunt Evelyn demanding I listen to the Crimson Cape show as part of the family tradition. Help - of a sort - came from an unlikely source, a letter left on my doorstep from James, an old school friend. He'd been working as an intern at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where they're currently displaying a priceless artifact known as the Golden Scarab. His letter said the Golden Scarab had been taken and that he needed help getting it back. He also listed a few places where it might be, but they weren't places I'd ever heard of... Aunt Evelyn seemed to recognize them, oddly enough, but she didn't seem willing to talk...
Unfortunately, Aunt Evelyn was being mum on the subject. Maybe I should ask again later, next time I'm at her apartment.
I still thought there was something to that list James sent about the stolen Golden Scarab, so I tried to grill Aunt Evelyn again on what it might mean.
Aunt Evelyn finally came clean about the list of places - they were speakeasies. Three guesses as to how she knew about them? We went to Chumley's first, and... well, let's just say that Aunt Evelyn seems to have half of them in her metaphorical pocket. They said that James had been in the bar bragging about the Scarab, but refused to tell us anything else, and when Evelyn... objected, we were kicked out. We tried McSorley's next, but they were even less helpful... the bouncer wouldn't even let us past the door.
Unfortunately, regardless of how much I scratched, spit and swore at the door, it didn't open. I'll have to come back to this street later and see if I can get in.
Still hadn't heard anything more from James about the Golden Scarab, so Aunt Evelyn and I decided to go back to McSorley's and get past that infuriating bouncer.
Although we weren't able to get past the bouncer, we were able to find help from an unlikely source: Sterling! It turns out it was a men-only speakeasy all along. I swallowed my suffragette rage long enough to let Sterling go in and ask around about James on our behalf while Aunt Evelyn and I waited outside. Unfortunately, Aunt Evelyn had brought along a little something to keep her occupied, and by a little something, I mean a little Glenlivet. By the time Sterling came out, she was drunk as a lord. We at least got a small lead; James was apparently boasting about Egyptian artifacts when he was suddenly jumped by some thugs and bundled off along with some sort of trunk. Since then, there have been people around trying to sell a 'Golden Scarab.'
We made it to Jack and Charlie's 21, yet another regular haunt of Aunt Evelyn (who was growing even more and more tipsy). Still, she was sharp enough to notice some thugs escaping into the cellar with James' trunk! They were gone by the time we made it downstairs, and the trunk was lying empty, but we did find an interesting clue in the club ledgers, a note for 'G Scarab' in one of the cabinets. Too bad the key to the cabinet was on a giant keyring spun by a hyperactive paranoid hamster! I had to risk my fingers to try reaching in and grabbing it.
Aaaaand my fingers are mangled beyond repair. Huzzah. I need to take a break; Jack and Charlie's 21 will still be here on the street later.
That G. Scarab level was still on my mind... I had to try and get into that cabinet at Jack and Charlie's 21. Unfortunately, that psychopathic hamster was still spinning his key wheel. I reached in...
I got the key and pried open the cabinet... only to find a bottle of whiskey with a golden scarab label. Huh? On closer inspection, the trunk also had a slip of paper that mentioned 'samples of Golden Scarab' arriving from Toronto at one of the docks here in NY. I was starting to have suspicions...
After depositing poor Aunt Evelyn at home to sleep and dream of flying whiskey bottles and cocktail glasses, I headed over to the docks mentioned in the slip of paper and eavesdropped on some rather disreputable-looking gentlemen discussing their business... which apparently involved running expensive, high-quality whiskey from Canada and keeping poor James prisoner! When they started discussing the idea of killing him, I stepped in to stop them (okay, I accidentally made a noise and got jumped, but close enough). I ran to get away, but they were hot on my heels. Luckily, there were some unstable piles of crates lying around...
One well timed collapse of crates, a yellow feather and a squad of policemen later, James was safe and the secret behind the Golden Scarab was solved. Turns out it was actually just a brand of whiskey! James had gotten roped in by a rum-runner friend in Canada to sell this hundred-year old whiskey in New York; when James had second thoughts, his business partners kidnapped him and ran things themselves. Luckily, James is going to be fine, and he's helping the police take down the rest of the group. I'm sure he'll be a little bit wiser the next time whiskey is involved... which is more than I can say for Aunt Evelyn!