Well that's a colorful saying.

What do you need assistance with?

I have located plans for each of the locations for which we have an interest. I would like you assistance in gathering more information by observing the areas.

Well I had intended to reconoiter these places my self, so we might as well set forth. I do not have any requirements for an excursion save my coat. Unless you are hungry of course?

We can get something at one of the local taverns. It provides sustenance and information. Unless, of course, you are hungry yourself?

Taffys's Teahouse, 9:10AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Basil shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. He nabs a digestive. "Look mate, I know a few things but you've got to swear an keep this close alright?"

He nibbles at the digestive calmly "First off, this cove Brookes has been giving us the slip for nigh on ten years. Brookes might be his name, it might not. He's been listed as John Morgan, Albert Vimes, Henry Steele. He's in charge, not that glock Dursley. God, mate he's a bloody magician. Pardon me ladies." He tips his helmet to the ladies at the next table. The two women smile and nod.

Basil continues, "Mr. Harranby has been tearing his hair out. The man is a cracksmen the likes of old Edward Pierce. Some folks say Pierce might have trained Brookes. We honestly don't know mate. Now your man Dursley is a sight easier. He's up at Newgate, having the steel taken out of him before trial. He was picked up for trying to force himself on a high soceity girl. If he's involved with Brookes we should like to winkle some facts out of him. But why do you want to know about two criminals?"

Taffys's Teahouse, 9:10AM, June 16th, 1870 AD
Martin has slightly unpleasant feeling but still this is his brother, Basil, childhood time friend who is front of him Was this right move? Hope so but time will tell that
Thanks brother, I'm not sure can I say more. Maybe even this was too much I'm having hard time to trust you my brother, why? What's wrong with me? Thanks for this information, i'll think this will help me. You know me, trying to get some living out of nothing

Martin looks around, thinks a lot and then he drinks his tea before he continues Sorry bro, here I am playing the crooked cross with you and can't tell you anything. Can't say that I am planing a really big blag I'm being assinged to this highly secret mission. This cove was mentioned, they give me allready some info but I wanted to check it my own ways, you know me. I wanted to know more about this cove. Is he really holding a candle to the devil, like they say.

Martin looks straight to the Basil's eyes I'm really carefull but if something should happen to me take care of Francesca, will you?

Taffys's Teahouse, 9:15AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Basil leans forward in his seat to reach for another cookie. "I get it brother, a bit of this and that for Queen and country what?" He brushes his nose with a finger to remove the crumbs. "Harranby will be furious that the the Queen's Guard have taken Brookes, but at least he'll be in custody. Anything else mate, I'm nearing the limits of my tea break."

Baker Street, 1:25 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

After a bracing luncheon, Jacob and Spence arrive outside the Molson residence.

I have found that people can't help but to assist others. Therefore, if the help answers the door, and I have no doubt that they will, we can inquire about the owners as we have an interest in the home for purchase. Should the owners answer, which is unlikely, we should inquire about an address in the area saying that our cabbie was a bit rude and let us out without the correct address. What say you?

Taffys's Teahouse, 9:20AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Yes Bas, you got it. A Little bit of this and that Martin pays their teas and when they are leavin Taffy's Teahouse he stops Basil and hugs him again I don't waste your time anymore but you could visit our place someday, its been too long since last visit, Francesca would love it Martin winks and continues If you have some special girl, take her with you. Francesca would be pleased to have something else to do than talk or listen our conversation. But thanks again brother, I owe you one and I'll remember that.

Library of The British Museum, 11:30AM, June 16th 1870 AD

Normally, Alexander Dorn enjoyed the rides with Travis Bickle, following his stream of thought into the most unlikely themes, his mind forced to think outside established patterns to keep up, his nerves wincing as they forced unconventional pathways through his brain.
It was relaxing in a headache-inducing way and helped him with thinking around corners (sometimes even through walls), a trait he considers essential to any true inventor.
Today it was different: desperately, but ultimately in vain, he tried to ignore his friends' outspoken and quite unfavorable opinion about immigrants - being one himself made bearing this rant even worse. Thus he felt unusually relieved as the puffing steam wagon came to a halt at their destination.

Lex enters the massive building with its prominent columned façade by means of a side entrance, taking him directly to the section housing the national library.
Striding through rows and rows of books and assorted journals, aged from 'wet printer's ink' to 'crumbling to dust', themes ranging from 'Black Pudding - The definite cookbook. 3rd revised edition with colourful illustrations' to 'On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life' Alexander quickly locates Horace Argyle at the heart of the vast archive: the 'cataloging and classification' department.

As the pale human with the well-worn protective sleeves notices the approach of his dwarven friend, he beckons him over.
"Master Dorn what a nice suprise, won't you come this way?"
Settling for a rarely frequented area, so they won't disturb the other library staff with their conversation (true librarians obviously evolved a sense of hearing rivaling that of owls when it comes to talking within their territory), they are soon deeply immersed in a vivid discussion, switching back and forth between a multitude of technical and mathematical topics with the occasional foray into experimental clockwork crossconnections and emergent patterns.

After about 2 hours of muffled debate, Alexander decides to cut to the chase:
"What have you got on the White Star Lines and The African Star, one of their ships? Oh, and are this quarters' 'Communications On The Field Of Steampowered Devices' and 'Articles on the Application of the Clockwork Apparatus' out yet?"

The librarian rubbs his hairless chin thoughtfully. "We have numerous shipping datums. Give me a few minutues. I'll fetch those periodicals for you first. The shipping information is in a different section."

Argyle returns a few moments later bearing the two requested periodicals. "Give me ten minutes will you Master Dorn?"

Ten minutes later Horace returns again. "Here you are sir. All the pertinant data on the White Star Line. I'm afraid however that there is no such ship as the African Star. But I did locate an article in the Times about a ship named the 'Afric'. The White Star lines newest steam powered vessel. I'm afraid that's the closest I could get. Is that the one you wanted?

Bismarck strolls around the docks, enjoying the morning air he can get through his gas mask.

I used to treasure moments like these...

He wanders about aimlessly, then spots the target for the break-in.

No sense mucking about I suppose.

He begins a slow circle around the building, taking care to keep another building or two between him and it at all times, and noting any entrances, exits, windows, and anyone standing around.

City Hall techical office, from 11.00AM to 01:30PM, June 16th, 1870 AD
Martin performes this his role pretty good and he gets some great maps on to his hands. After this succesful meeting Martin walks out of technical office and he stops in top of these stairs while he checks streets. While checking streets Martin puts those maps, he just aquired, to the case he got with maps. This was good, now to the home. I'll put these maps in to the safe place and change clothes. Lets see has sir Edward changed or is he still this old rock hard fart.

Martin' home, 02:30PM, June 16th, 1870 AD
"Honey I'm home! Martin starts when he opens door and steps in, when he hears Francesca answer from kitchen Martin walks there and gives a kiss to his wife I'm leaving soon, I got meeting with sir Edward, do you remember sir Edward Woodward? This our meetin' takes place in Gentlemans Hunting Club, so I'll be eating there and I don't know when I'm back home.
After this he goes his combined study and work room, there is shelves full of books, books about guns, ammunition, British army, World history and maps. On the wall there is some hunting trophys, different animal heads and his guns. Martin walks to his desk and puts maps in drawer next to these ammuniton, he aquired earlier. I'll hope I can go huntin' this summer, maybe with sir Edward or my father

Martin' home, 03:30PM, June 16th, 1870 AD
Martin changes his clothes, this time his clothes are really good qualit,y and gives a warm kiss to his wife when he leaves again to the streets of London. Hes whistling when hes walkin' there is no hurry in his pace, hes relaxed but still hes checkin' if there is someone tailin' behind him. This time he got also walkin cane with him.

Library of The British Museum, 11:45AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Alexander spends a few minutes perusing the information Horace gathered for him. He absorbs it easily. Strangely enough he is confused, the Times article refers to a ship and shipping line. Whereas the information he read seemed to deal with a yacht based in Palma de Mallorca, which is in Spain. Somwhere there must have been a filing error. The dwarf wrinkles his brow in confusion.

Regency Warhouse, 9:00AM, June 16th, 1870AD

The dock and warehouse are a well run place. The structure itself seems well built. It is more than likely constucted within the last ten years or so. Probably around '61 or '62 if Bismarck was right. There are power lines crisscrossing the whole area, several are heading into the warehouse proper. As he circles the building it becomes clear to the machine man that there are three main entrances. The loading docks at the front and rear of the warhouse allowing for easy movement of cargo from ship to shore with no trouble. And the main door to what Bismarck suspects to be the office Brookes spoke of. It is serviced by a long flight of steps leading up to it. Without betraying his position, it seems that entering from this point would be the best route. The machine man considers the ease of entering the building right now.

The Gentlemans Hunting Club, 4:00PM, June 16th, 1870AD

Martin arrives on the Club's door step. After ringing the bell he is greeted by a tall cadaverous man with a hollow voice. "Good day, Master St. North Master Woodward is expecting you." The club's main butler Peabody greets him and shows the army man to the smoking room where Sir Edward Woodward is waiting. "Well this is capital Martin. I said to Peabody that I am so often bereft of company now a days. Come, come, sit, take off your coat and hat. Peabody get Mr St. North's coat and hat. There's a good fellow. So Martin, tea, or something a bit stronger? I have a splendid Madeira cellared here that I have been dying to try. Or a fine French brandy perhaps? Care for a pipe? Do come and tell me all that's going on in the world. How is every little thing?"

Bismarck stands and ponders the situation for a few moments.

I could walk in right now... I could probably even grab the key, or at least see where its being kept.

He exhales and looks about, then heads for the door, checking it out once he's there.

The Gentlemans Hunting Club, 4:05PM, June 16th, 1870AD

Martin nods to the buttler Peabody and follows him to the table, after Peabody takes his coat, hat and cane Martin sits Yes, hes good fellow. I'll think that this time something stonger sounds truly enjoyable, and I'll trust your experienced taste this time. Martin nods and smiles to the sir Edward It's been too long since we meet last time. Have you seen my father? Have you two been hunting together lately?

Martin chat with sir Edward and he truly enjoys this place, he enjoys it greatly.

Baker Street, 1:25 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

It strikes me as rather brazen actually, but I suppose that it is worth an effort. You seem to have done this before, why don't you do the talking. I'll look over the inside with my other senses, as perceive what there is to perceive.

Library of The British Museum, 11:45AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

What's with this utter nonsense?

Alexander Dorn was seriously confused. He knew Horace Argyle as a very thorough person and competent librarian and providing him with this obviously wrong information was not like him at all.
Maybe Horace got problems with his private life...but he'd need to get one first for that.
Mysterious indeed... but no reason to ruin my inquiry.

With strengthened resolve, he waves the pale man over, addressing him with a stern face:
"What ever is the matter, Mr. Argyle?"
Unconcerned by the puzzled expression on the librarians face, the dwarf continues:
"I ask you a simple favour and all you can provide is this puny article?"
Alexander waves a hand at the pile of papers in front of him, dismissively:
"Why did you even bother carrying over all this", irritated enough to even turn to strong language "...this irrelevant material?"

True, it is brazen - and that is why it will work. The help assumes that forward and bold is also egotistical while gentry assumes it is beneath them. Neither will notice the harmlessly brazen. Shall we?

He knocks on the door.

Regency Warehouse, 9:03AM, June 16th, 1870AD

After testing the staircase to make sure it would hold his enhanced weight, code name Bismarck climbs the flight of stairs. Reaching the top the machine-man is amazed to see that the door is unlocked.

The Gentlemans Hunting Club, 4:20PM, June 16th, 1870AD

Sir Edward is his usual cheerful self. Happily chatting about any and all topics brought up by Martin. He breaks out his Madeira and offers the wine to Martin.

Library of The British Museum, 11:45AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Horace peeks over the enraged gentleman's shoulder. "Ah here is the problem, sir. One of the younger clerks must have filed this Spainish nonsense in the White Star collection by mistake. It is sometimes troubling to see how little attention the new people here treat the collection. Will there be anything else sir?"

Baker Street, 1:27 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

After two full minutes of knocking and ringing the bell, a middle aged woman opens the door. "Where in the 'ell.... I do beg your pardon gentlemen, I thought you were the tradesmen." A closer look reveals the woman is somewhere around her early thirties with disheveled brown hair tied back in a slowly untangleing bun. She is dressed in a simple gray frock with a white apron covered in flour. She has no apparent jewelry and for the most part appears to be a normal working class house wife.

Fascinating... This is either a trap or a warehouse run by incompetents.

Bismarck opens the door and steps inside, clicking through his different vision lenses to survey the warehouse, and begins looking around.

Library of The British Museum, 11:45AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Noticing the requested information 'hidden' underneath the single article about a mallorcan yacht, Alexander Dorn suddenly finds himself seriously embarrassed both about his obvious blunder and the following overreaction towards his companion.
Horace promptly pointing out this mistake didn't exactly make him feel any better, neither.

Thus busy with hiding his discomposure, his thoughts have a hard time catching up with the stream of words leaving his mouth:

"Ah...Umm...Right. Yes... No, that would be all, Mr. Argyle. Yes, young people nowadays seem to be lacking the neccessary exactitude, don't they? They should follow your example, make sure you remind them of their duties, err...thank you, Mr. Argyle, I'll just leave these here when I'm finished reading then, right?"

For Cog's sake, what's wrong with me today? Such a stupid oversight and losing my temper, maybe this new job's effect on my nerves is exceeding my estimation...

No servants, interesting. Time to improvise.

Good lady, I am sorry to trouble you. The cab we took treated us badly and deposited us in the wrong area of town. Could you possibly spare us the use of your phone to contact another cab? Forgive me, where are my manners? My name is Harold Cheatum and this is my associate Richard Howe. I am afraid that we will miss our meeting with Mister Dewey.

Regency Warehouse, 9:05AM, June 16th, 1870AD

As Bismarck enters the office he notices a neatly arranged working space. He spots an odd shape hudled on the floor in heat mode. Switching back to standard mode he realizes that there is more than likely a clerk hiding behind one of the desks. "You have five seconds to show me some Identification before I summon the police!" ,Shouts a voice from behind the desk.

Library of The British Museum, 11:45AM, June 16th, 1870 AD

Horace nods sagely to Alexander as the dwarf rises from his seat, "Believe me sir this error will be addressed, I thank you for bringing it to my attention. By all means leave the materials on the table, I must now find out what else is in error. Have a pleasent day Master Dorn"

Alexander sits by the table and soaks up the information like a dry sponge. He watches as Horace bustles around the tables cleaning up and berating the younger librarians.

Finally Alexander leaves the library. He calls Bickle at a convenient call box and they set out. Strangely the topic of the day has mutated. "Hallo guvner. Nice ta see ya 'gain. Here now ya heard, the city sewers are infested wiv mushroom men and the high an' mightys ain't goin' ta do nuffing ta stop em"

Baker Street, 1:27 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

The matron considers the polite request. "Certainly gentlemen. The phone is in my husband's office. This way please." She shows you to a cluttered office full of papers and other paraphanalia. The woman indicates the desk. "There it is gents. You''l have to forgive the state of this room, my husband insists I not clean it. Also I fear we are on a party line, no one should be using it right now, but you never know do you?" She pauses. "Jerome, do try not to bother the gentle men would you?" A lad of about fifteen, sitting in the corner armchair looks up from his book and nods.

Well this is certainly not what I expected. Keep a calm exterior Spencer, let him do that talking.

'Howe' tips his aht to the Lady of the house a bit late, looking a litle absent minded. He assessenses the house's exterior as his partner talks, then follows him in, slowly scanning as if he's not quite 'all there'.

So far, so good. Indeed better than expected.

Jacob picks up the phone and dials his own office number as he takes in the surroundings.

Yes, hello? I need to speak ... yes, I'll hold. ... Yes, Moneypenny, please alert Mister Dewey that we shall be late. ... I would say, about 15 minutes. ... Oh, thank you.

GM

Baker Street, 1:27 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

As Spencer begins cataloguing his sensations of the Molson home, he notices that the house itself appears to be fundamentally normal. A simple normal home. No wards no anything. Just normal, strange. The lady of the house takes Spence's breath away on the astral. Literally. She is a mess of fatigue and stress. Her aura ooozes bone tiring energy. As he enters the office he spots the astral barrier worked into the walls. Definately enough to keep out most magicians and any spiritual watchers. It was more than likely erected by a mage of the Hermetic path. He spots the young boy easily as he is glowing with curiosity and bafflement. He is in genral good health and as Spence watches the boys astral form smiles and waves.

Alex chatters nonsense into the phone for a few moments until the lady departs the room. The young fellow listens for a moment then proceeds to return to his book. "The Basics of Sorcercy" reads the large ornate cover.

Regency Warehouse, 9:06AM, June 16th, 1870AD

Code name Bismarck activates his steam powered muscles and charges at the desk that the cowardly person is hiding behind. Flipping the desk over with a powerful toss the machine man uncovers a pathetic mouselike man covered in urine. He holds up a small boxlike device with a small red button on it. They'll be here in a few minutes, you monster. weeps the man. The bell at the end of the floor begins to sound stridently.

Interesting. The young man has the Talent, no doubt, and a new book on Sorcery. Speaks of money, which may be why the woman is stressed. Perhaps their pocket book is stretched by their financial needs to aid in his education. However, to have a magical son, she would have to have a magical husband. Where is he I wonder?

Spencer busies himself wandering about the room, not lingering at any one thing for too long. Showing enough interest to be polite in his respect for the room, but not so much as to be takem for prying.

Jacob tries to absorb as much of the room as possible. He then smiles as he hangs up the phone. Excuse me young sir, what are you reading?

GM

Jacob glances at the desk allowing his eyes to drop as well, waiting on the young man to answer. He will wait as needed until an uncomfortable silence opens, then a moment more. He will then repeat his question.

"I am dreadfully sorry sir. I wanted to finish this page. It is extremly difficult. The book is the Basics of Sorcery by Sir Edmund Fowler. Written in 1860 of our common era. My schoolmaster reported that I have the potential to be a majician but, sadly we lack the means to pay for the special training nessecary to teach me properly. The good sir kindly loaned me this book. Was that all sir?"

As the lad speaks it is clear he is showing off.

Jacob smiles brightly at the young man. Excellent my boy! Keep at your studies and I am sure that you will make a fine magician some day. Please excuse a man's curiosity.

With that, Jacob falls silent but continues to smile. He waits to see if there is any further interest from the boy and then quietly tries to open the main desk drawer muttering about needing a quill.

The boy seems uninterested but, as Jacob tries the main drawer he feels a fairly sturdy lock. The rolltop section also seems locked.

The boy pokes his head over the book. "Sorry sir, Father always locks that before he goes to bed at night, and doesn't open it till after he eats dinner. I have a quill if you like."

Yes please, thank you. Jacob takes the quill, scribbles some notes on a scrap piece of paper, tucks it into his shirt and then leaves the room beckoning "his associate" with him. He pauses, turns to the young man and says, Please keep up your studies. Shall we wait for your mother or shall we let ourselves out?

Bismarck growls.

"Stupid man!", he hisses, kicking the prostrate fellow in the side of the head.

After that, he begins tearing around the room, looking for the key.

Baker Street, 1:27 PM, June 16th, 1870AD

The boy pipes up "Well sir, I know she was waiting for some tradesmen to fix the stove, I think. I can escort you out if you like."

Saying this he wipes the quill on his handkerchief and uses it as a book mark. He then procedes to show the two men to the door. He waves cheerfuly as they walk down the steps and away.

Turning to Spencer, Jacob says My dear sir, do you think that Mr. Dewey will be angry with us? Jacob smiles lightly at his own joke. Tell me, what did we learn of value?

Regency Warehouse, 9:05AM, June 16th, 1870AD

As Bismarck rifles through the desk drawers and after twenty seconds comes up with a envelope bearing the words DO NOT LOSE THIS!!!!!.

Opening it the machine man finds a shiny key, stamped with a strange logo.

As Bismarck examines the key two men burst through the far door way. Neither seem armed.

The leading man shouts "Oi! You stop right there!"

Spencer takes a moment before replying, thinking things over. Actual retrieval of the item should be rather simple. Which, I must say, somehow seems wrong. "A little too easy" as they say. I'd point out that it may be easier to simply offer the boy tutoring in exchange for the key. The crux is that first , we would have to know the purpose of the key to be reasonably sure that the exchange would be beneficial. Were we to offer it, we would have to be reasonably sure they would take the bargain. Or be prepared to respons appropriately if they refuse our offer.

It has it's own difficulties of course, but it seems a much better approach than "second story work" to my mind.

I wonder how the others are doing.

Bismarck shoves the key into his coat as the men burst in.

What do they think they're doing? Not even armed... I'll show them what happens when they face me... he thinks, smiling viciously.

He reaches into his coat and produces an HE grenade, pausing only to throw it at the feet of the men before running back out the door he came in.

Perhaps. I don't think that we can offer services for a key we don't know exists ... or at least one that we aren't supposed to know about. Perhaps we can agree to set up lessons for the youth, have one of the others perform the second story work and then we can continue to teach so as to remove suspicion from ours elves.

Jacob muses in thought for a moment.

I don't know how the others are doing. Shall we inquire?

Sharing the intelligence we've gathered seems the natural next step. Then we should set to investigating these aristocrats.

Regency Warehouse, 9:06AM, June 16th, 1870AD

The two men glance at the grenade helplessly before the older one pushes the younger out of the way.

Bismarck feels the explosion as he exits the building and crashes down the stairs.

He reaches the street and hears the sweet music of burning wood and ringing alarms.

Bickle's Steamcab, 12:00 Noon, June 16th, 1870 AD

As he embarks the steamwagon, Alexander Dorn is relieved to find that his friend Travis had already switched to yet another 'topic of the day', his supply seeming as endless as his sources mysterious. Seeing that it hadn't been a good day for interpersonal communication so far, Lex knew that statistically the chances for improvement were encouragingly good - and rising.

"Yes, Mr. Bickle, it's always a pleasure driving with you.
And we're going to do an extended sightseeing tour this time, as I need to gather some data at various places around town. Specifically Baker Street, Charles Street, West Chantry Lane and St. George Road. I'll trust you with finding us a quick route as the sequence doesn't matter, just inform me when we're getting close to each locale.

And do tell me more about these 'mushroom men', they must be a tremendously underrated problem as I can't seem to recall ever hearing about them."
How very strange.
For some reason I can't help thinking about immigrant plumbers being the optimum solution to a problem like this. But why?
And where do turtles figure in this whole issue, I wonder...

2001 West Chantry Lane, 2:04PM June 16th 1870AD

The Johansenn residence is indeed by the Palace. Buckingham Palace, the structure sits at the end of West Chantry lane dominating the view of the horizon. It is huge, and the neighbourhood reflects the posh environment. All the homes are late Georgian structures. In the country these would be mansions or multiple family dwellings. Here though they are merely homes for the wealthy or the nobility.

Spence and Smith arrive outside the large home indicated by Brookes address. The difference in surroundings is clear to both of them. They can see at least one bobby strolling the street twirling his truncheon.

Near Regency Warehouse 9:45AM, June 16th 1870AD

After finally checking twice more behind him, code name Bismarck is sure that the pursuing coppers have been lost by his more powerful steam driven legs. The German smiles with the peices of flesh left in his mouth and goes off towards his next destination.

Bickle's Steam Cab "Huff 'n Puff" 12:00PM June 16th

"Right you are guvenor!" Bickle sets the mighty apperatus in gear and then he and Dorn are off. Steaming through London at break neck speed.

Bickle's mood is as transient as his sources, they both seem to have no clear issue. "Well guv, ya see these mushroom men, started showing up jest last year. Somefing ta do with the risin' mana level said a Prof from Cambridge sittin' right where you is not more than two hours ago. I say's, why'd the proper author'ties not be tellin uz? And he says, the posh set 'er keepin' em secret like till there's enough off em so's they kin eat all the low born folk. Whups slowin' down, heres Baker."

Despite his erratic driving and his more erratic theories, Bickle is in fact a man of his word as he pulls up Baker Street.

A little bit of explosive solves anything... I'm clear and the office is wrecked.

Bismarck stops in place and vents out some excess steam built up by his running, letting a long jet hiss out the back of his neck.

I wonder if the building's burning down... Better not risk checking. Mmm, where to now? I've got one of the keys, should try to find the others.

He stands still for a moment, then begins heading back to his doss.

Spence speaks quietly to Smith as he admires the structure. For such a buidling could never simply be called a "house".

I do not think any simple "may we use your phone" ploy would get us through that particular ingress . Perhaps we should simply observe and leave?

Spence couldn't help but be a bit nervous at the sight of the place. Not new to the ways of the aristocracy, he had no doubt the officers would come running if there were the slightest disturbance. A turn in the tower was not on his to do list for today. Instead, he let his senses shift to the astral, giving the place a thorough once over.

You are perhaps right.

2001 West Chantry Lane, 2:04PM June 16th 1870AD

In contrast to the Baker home this palce is a fortress on the astral. A powerful ward wraps protectively around the resisdence. And there is at least one watcher spirit lingering nearby. The minor spirit soon makes way for a medium sized human figure wrapped in flame.

I suggest that we move along for now and plan something else. My mind is a bit swimming at the moment.