You’ve got some basic information and now have a few options:
Trains to Rhode Island leave in 8 and 12 hours.
The New York train leaves in 12 hours.
You might be able to find out more about the case by asking Mr. Teaberry.
From the diary of Kit Evans, 16 March 1931
Dr. Leo Schneider contacted me about a colleague of his, a Dr. Phillip Teaberry of the botany department. Seems Teaberry’s sister and brother-in-law (Joan and Matthew Grant) have stopped responding to his niece’s (Mildred) telegrams for over two weeks and the niece was rather distraught. The couple live in New York and Teaberry himself wouldn’t be able to travel there to look into the matter, so he was soliciting help.
In our brief interview with Dr. Teaberry, we learned that though Grant often travels for business (often to South America or Africa) he has never left without informing Mildred. Grant works as some sort of intermediary for exotic furniture and artefacts (n.b., once we locate him, must secure as a contact for Sophie’s imports); the couple are well-traveled, educated, and stable in their marriage. Mildred, Teaberry’s niece, stayed with him while she attended the university. Teaberry indicated her room was left largely untouched after she left several years ago. We moved to investigate it.
A quick survey of the room revealed a number of musical theory texts and entry-level history books on the pre-Columbian Americas. Leo uncovered a wooden flute, which he secured permission from Teaberry to take with him. I noticed several objets d’art that were quite out of place for your average Midwestern coed’s habitation — an African fertility goddess, a tribal figure from the South Americas, and a figure that looks possibly Indonesian in origin. Very curious — especially given that her father did not travel to southeast Asia for his work. Leo’s photographer friend Max Harlen took photos of the artefacts. A local cop, Clancy McGee, requested recent photographs of the Grants and their daughter.
The four of us, plus a vagrant by the name of John who had been following McGee about, secured passage on the next train to New York City. I suppose I shall have to set down this log and get to know my new companions.
later that evening
As I suffered through interminable small talk with the fellows — I really must remember that my lack of enthusiasm for this country’s brief and uninteresting history does not go over well with those who likely served in the Great War — I felt the oddest sensation pass over me. I couldn’t place it, but it seemed my companions were likewise unsettled: McGee began looking out the windows and scouting about the outer compartment. The moment passed without comment.
We retired to different areas of the train — McGee moved to chat up a shifty looking New Yorker, while Harlen snapped photos of various passengers. Leo played with that confounded flute, so I took a book to the dining car. While reading, I noticed a man in rough-spun garb giving me odd looks, so I gestured McGee over. I suppose this was the wrong course of action, since the man quickly fled the dining car, McGee wasting no time pursuing him. I am to understand that the man literally leapt off the train (earning some odd respect from the tramp, I’d wager) to evade McGee’s inquiries. Harlen believes he may have snapped a photo of the man in question; we shall see when we get to New York.