Grand Guginol

“Soon as ya drop off the gold, sir, I’ll get to work,” I promised.


The next week was spent tryin’ to hunt down details on Ferrarei. Fillmore and Sons had burned to the ground the same week Phillips supposedly committed suicide, taking any extra information wit’ it. I slipped a gnome in the birth registry some a’ me extra gold for a birth certificate on Ferrarei. I wasted me money. I wasted some more on the death registry. I bought enough rounds in every bar in the city to float a galleon and not one ol’ man, elf, ogre, gnome, or dwarf had e’en heard a’ Ferrarei.

The Elysium Theater manager had some more clues when I gave up the coin for it. That piece a’ music wasn’ the only one Ferrarei had printed up. The ol’ elf, seein’ how that music was affectin’ the audience, had suggested that Phillips look inta it a bit more to see if there were any other pieces by the same composer. The manager did the same an’ come up wit’ the older sheets that Phillip had the night he died. After Phillips got sliced, the manager couldna get it outta his head so did a bit more pryin’, findin’ two more pieces in the same basement. Looked like the lyrics were in the same tongue as the first ‘un. From the Common writin‘ on the new sheets , looked like there was one more set out there.

He was even able to do one better than me in locating Ferrarei. Turns out Ferrerai had showed up thirty years ago at the Elysium Theater where one a’ these new pieces were used, back when this was a playground fer the rich. The registry included an address that was in a mansion ‘bout three blocks from me flat. The place had been made into a tenement once the family died out ten year ago, but the manager tol’ me that it was still standin’. Whether or not I’d find anything…


I found a lot more than I bargained for. I had just walked in the once-grand front door when I heard some stern questioning on the third floor.

“You had no knowledge of this?”

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