Rhiannon chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Wouldn't be any trouble at all, Mister Nickleby. You don't even have to meet Li Mei if you didn't wish to - there are plenty of relaxants that don't require a visit."

She smiles briefly to Henry, continuing to probe his mind.

Janos wanders into the garage, bottle of vodka in hand. He stops and looks over at one of the vechiles. He seems to be looking for someone, then has a "eureka" moment and pulls out his pocket watch.

"Hmmm ... no Jozef," Janos mutters.

As he turns to leave, he spots Brigette at the other end of the garage.

"Excuse me, Miss. Are you lost?"

"Well," Locky replies, "I think that part's the simple bit. Slipping out of tight situations is my thing!"

With that, he silently strides across the floor, motioning for Erica to follow - silently, of course...

Henry Nickleby, while still very out of sorts, manages to pull himself together a bit - the conscious effort discernible to Rhiannon's reading. With his flight reflex suppressed for the moment, Henry responds to Rhiannon:

"Well then ... if you insist, I'll give you a ring. If I'm in town tomorrow. But I, ah, have to ask - aren't you at all concerned about keeping a Chinese maid? You realize that these people are more loyal to their families than anything else, and I seem to recall hearing the Li family connected with the criminal element. At least, back in China."

It seems that Henry has at least a bit of guile in him - not terribly surprising, given his position. Still, his nerves are drawn tightly enough that he wouldn't have been able to appear casual even if Rhiannon wasn't in his head. It seems that he is trying to get more information about Li Mei, whom he still assumes is a personal threat.

Erica follows Locky fairly casually, asking innocently, "Is it, then?"

She makes an effort toward stealth and fails to do better than any other layman. Still, she seems to view the attempt as vaguely amusing, smiling as they exit the room and saying, "It isn't really necessary to be so careful. He is, well ... easily distracted."

Out in the hall, she raises an eyebrow and adds, "The garden, was it? Convince me?"

Locky looks back to the group of men, who have failed to notice anything. "Hmm, gotta point there. Anyway, I wasn't being careful, if I was careful, you wouldn't have seen me leave!"

"Now, as for the garden," Locky says, as he starts to move off, "I got told by a few people in the know that somewhere in his garden are these beautiful roses. This is the first time he's asked me to his mansion, so I thought we'd sneak out and have a peak at them..."

Rhiannon raises an eyebrow. "Really? I never knew that, Mister Nickleby. Thank you for informing me. I'll question Li Mei when I see her next."

She inclines her head to Nickleby. "If you'll excuse me, I'd better return to the party. There's probably a hundred things for me to do."

Erica laughs quietly and points out: "It's March, Locky. The roses won't be in bloom yet ... but, ok. Some fresh air would be nice. These things always get so stuffy. So much hot air being blown around."

Following that up with a quirked eyebrow, she adds, "We'll have to go by the front. It's a little cold to be out without a coat."

She begins to walk off in that direction, asking, "So, why are you here, anyway? No offense - you just don't seem to be either a fatuous old man or a politicizing younger man. It makes you hard to place."

Henry bids Rhiannon goodbye, and clearly isn't sorry to see her go. At this point, his tension is such that he sees potential threats from pretty much everyone, and it seems unlikely that he'll stay at the reception much longer.

Rhiannon makes her way through the reception, searching for King.

{Using Marked Man - assuming still active}

Locky chuckles a little. "Well, I'm certainly not either of them. I guess the best reason for why I'm here is that I'm one of Mr. King's workers, although I'm not sure that's a good reason."

"This is kinda my first big party like this, and I gotta tell ya I'm not all that impressed with the scene..."

Relying upon her inner senses, Rhiannon makes a beeline for Tony, who has relocated to the ballroom since she last saw him. He must have been keeping an eye out for her, since he catches her eye almost as soon as she enters the crowded room. He says something to the group he is with and makes an aside to Miss Langley before walking to meet Rhiannon halfway.

A few words are enough to convey that Rhiannon has something important, and King takes her out of the ballroom for a less public conversation. There isn't any true privacy in the mansion tonight, but they step aside from the mass of guests and find relative seclusion at the end of a dead end hall leading out onto an abandoned terrace.

"This is better. What do you have for me?"

"Nickleby's being controlled somehow by a man named Li Wan-Kin through a girl named Mei - not my Mei, and I don't know of any Wan-Kins in the Li Tong, but admittedly my links are with the New York lot," Rhiannon answers quietly. "The others are uninvolved."

"Oh, come on. Now you've made me curious."

Erica turns and fixes Locky with an eye for a moment, pointing out: "You tell me 'slipping out of tight situations is your thing,' and then you don't tell me what exactly you do. I promise I won't tell anyone if you're an industrial spy, or if you get rid of bodies for Mr. King or something. Well, not too many people."

Reaching the foyer, it occurs to Locky that he should probably offer to get Erica's coat. Meantime, she agrees with his prior comment, saying, "Yes, this isn't much fun at all. Some big parties are actually pretty good, if you don't mind showing off, but this kind of thing is all business. Hm. Actually, King used to throw some great parties, but not in the last year or so. I wonder why that stopped."

King's face takes on a mask-like stillness - his normally warm eyes turn cold and hard as stone as he says, "I know who you're talking about. You are sure?"

His mind is as impenetrable as ever, but Rhiannon doesn't have any trouble getting his general emotional tenor. It seems that she has somehow stumbled onto some bad blood between King and this other man. She replies again, confirming herself and repeating the name - just in case there was a mistake. There apparently wasn't, since King nods sharply, then simply turns and walks away.

Pausing a few steps away, he half turns his head and says tersely before continuing out of sight: "That's all for tonight. Go enjoy yourself."

Locky looked around. "I'm not sure myself, I don't know him all that well. Maybe he just lost some of his fun, I dunno."

"As for what I do here?" Locky asked rhetorically "You might have heard about Mr. King's new group? I'm the movement expert. In other words, I make sure we can move wherever we need to! I'm a locksmith by trade, it comes very handy when trouble ends up locking you up."

"But spy stuff? Nah, King's never asked us to do stuff like that. I'm not a thief, I wouldn't steal stuff if I could at all avoid it." Locky fished the quarter he was playing with back out of his pocket. "Which reminds me, I have to give this quarter back to one of my teammates when I'm done with it."

"Anyway, It's gonna be cold outside, I should probably go get your jacket from the cloakroom..."

Surprised as Erica is at Locky's admission, finishing school kicks in and she lets him go long enough to run by the cloakroom. Still, a couple minutes later, as Locky helps Erica into her coat, she begins to question him curiously, "You're in that group - that field team? That must be so exciting! Were you there when Manfred von Zorbo raided New York? What was it like?"

The two slip outside into the cool night - their departure far from unnoticed, though Erica doesn't seem to care about that. As an aside, she tells Locky, "I think I remember hearing that the roses here are Mr. King's hobby. He's supposed to have entered some competitions with them, a couple years ago. I suppose with this much money [waving a hand at the mansion, vanishing into the dark to the right and left], you have to find something to do with your time."

"You're in that group - that field team? That must be so exciting! Were you there when Manfred von Zorbo raided New York? What was it like?"

"Well, pretty scary, obviously. I mean, they attacked us from out of nowhere, we had no idea they were coming." Locky said, visibly thinking back. "And let me tell you, defusing a bomb is nowhere near as easy as they make it look like on film."

"I suppose with this much money [waving a hand at the mansion, vanishing into the dark to the right and left], you have to find something to do with your time."

"Man. I can barely imagine this sort of money - I still live down in Baltimore, this is way out of my direction in life. Still, guess you're right, with that much money, there's gotta be boredom in your life..."

Brigitte looks up from one of the automobiles, somewhat startled by the inquiry as sie was quite engrossed with the early Lefevre.

“Hm? Lost? Ohhh.. No. I can simply take only so much of the reception before I need some fresh air. And I find that automobiles are better conversationalists than most of the people inside.”

Brigitte think for a moment and then adds, “Well, more interesting conversationalists, at least.”

"Français, eh? I am Count Janos Rakozi, Graf von Kadar, at your service."
He emphasizes the title with a sharp click of his heels and a stiff bow from the waist.

"Mr. King's social functions are not normally this ... dry, but this one is mainly a show for his business associates."
Janos looks around, then furrows his brow.

"So, what branch of King International are you with, anyway?"

Stifling a “Ugh.” At the formal introduction, Brigitte realizes that she may have been a little too open. And lax with the etiquette and may have possibly insulted nobility.

‘Good job Brigitte.’ She thinks to herself.

She offers her hand and introduces herself, “Brigitte Lefevre.. I am a new member of the ‘field team’ that seems to be a point of contention with some at the part. Please excuse me. I just arrived from overseas today and am still not altogether here after that long voyage.”

At hearing that, Janos perks up.
"Ah, good. You are a real person. So am I ... on the Field Team, that is."

Janos extends his hand (to kiss her hand, not shake it).

Brigitte nods to Janos as he kisses her hand.

“Oh? I thought I had met them all. John, Jameson and Kate met me at the docks and then we met with Blaine and Locky at the bar. Mr. King and Rhiannon I met when I was first recruited. Is there anybody else I have yet to meet?”

"Odd ... you met the rest of the team today? I just finished up a talk with Blaine and he failed to mention meeting such a charming young lady."

Janos coughs self-conciously.
"Hmph ... well, what place do you hold on the team?"

“Well, what place I hold, I do not think has been determined since I just met everybody and they did not see too terribly talkative. I believe I was recruited for my driving ability and knowledge of engineering. My family produces automobiles and I seem to have inherited my father’s knack for innovation.” Brigitte sigh somewhat thoughtfully and then adds. “As well as a few other things.”

"Driving ... well we can see about that."

Janos gets a more serious demeanor.
"Do you have an auto here, or do you care to take one of Mr. King's?"
"Either way, I would like to get a demonstration of your skills, if you do not mind. Besides, it gets us away from this party."

After a brief moment of contemplations Brigitte nods.

“I do not need much of an excuse to drive and anything that gets out of here and get some fresh air welcomed. My auto is out front.”

With that Brigitte, remembering some of the lessons from her mother, hooks her arm into Janos’ and heads outside, making her way over to her silver car. She pops the truck and fetches a small back from it, as well as a pair of shoes.

“If you will give me a moment.” She says as she slips into the car and quickly changes into the slacks and shirt, slipping the suspenders over her shoulders and the ivy cap on hr head, have trust that Janos is a proper gentleman.

Dutifully, Janos turns his back and waits. Once she let's him know she is finished.

"So, since neither of us know this town to well, how about we go down to the Orleans Street," Janos motions off to the north,"and see what we can find to challenge you."

Once they get started,
"So, what do you already know about the team?"

Brigitte shrugs. “Certainement.” she says as she brings the car to life and rolls down the drive, making a turn onto the road in the direction indicated by Janos.

“Well, John is a magician of some sort. Jameson seems to be a shootist. Blaine is a private investigator. Locky is a tag-along or something. Rhiannon is King’s assistant and Kate is more of a bookish enginner.”

Janos sits back and enjoys the ride. After Brigette's initial assessment of the team, he adds,
"Well, John has a real presence and he is definitely a stage magician, but there is so much more about him. He is our scout, for lack of a better definition."
"Jameson is a shootist, no doubt about it. He is personably brave and, like myself, a veteran."
"Blaine is a tough, streetwise man. A bit gruff, perhaps, but reliable and honest."
"Locky would be considered a master thief, if he stole. He doesn't, but he has a real gift for locks, traps, and mechanical contrievences."
"Rhiannon is ... well, something of an intelligence officer. She studies situations and people and comes up with some pretty good answers."
"Kate isn't officially part of the team, but outside of Mr. King, she is one of the few people that understands what we are doing. Or why we are doing it, for that matter."
"Me? I'm just a friend of sorts to Mr. King. He was the guardian for myself and my sister during my illness. Otherwise, I pretty much go were Mr. King wants me to go and protect the rest of the team to the best of my ability."

"Oh, and as a warning, there is a man named Leslie Cornish who is King's chief accountant and he finds the teams existance more than an extravegance, but an actual business detriment. So, be warned. He will develop an immediate dislike for you just for being in our company."

"What else do you need to know?"

"I am not sure what I need to know, if I do not know to ask about it." Brigitte says with a chuckles as she weaves down the road.

"The Kings have been acquaintances of my family for a generation or two. Assisting the team is giving me a chance to make some possible future business contacts and travel a bit. I have been under or behind the wheel of automobiles since before I could walk. It is in the blood, I suppose.”

"Well, we are pretty much a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants operation," Janos chuckles. "We rarely have too much information going in and little idea of what other resources we will have."
"Hmmm ... were are you from, Ms. Lefevre? I ask because I briefly knew a Captain Lefevre in the War. I was supposed to pay him a visit after the armistace, but I was otherwise occupied for several years."

“My family moved to Lille before I was born. My father was always looking ahead, and he could see that it would be a more advantageous location in the future. My father served in The Great War, Guillaume Lefevre, though his friends always called him Guy. But I am sure many other Lefevres were just a patriotic. He did not like to talk about it, though I do believe he was a captain. He and my uncle where posted around Greece on some special project. I am not sure what though. It seems to be a sore spot with my uncle as well.”

Janos grows quiet, then pulls his pocketwatch out. Attached to the chain is a locket. Janos opens it and looks down at the pictures.

"In the last days of the war I met a Guillaume Lefevre, Captain of Engineers in the French Army. He did me a great favor, though I am not sure it would have been something he would have talked about."

Janos looks at locket, then over at Brigette. He holds the locket so that Brigette can look at it and he smiles warmly. In it is a picture of a much younger Brigette and her Mother.
"Tell me, how is your father?"

Brigitte glances over at the locket when she can, but driving on unfamiliar street (not to mention the wrong side of the road) and in the dark with the top up, she has difficulty making out the photographs.

"My father?" she asks, her eyes drifting down and off the road a little.

"My father and mother passed away a few years ago.. in a automobile accident. Or at least, it appeard to be a accident. My father was too good of a driver and took great care of the auto. It.. it could not have been a accident."

"I was in the car as well. It was a family outing, in fact. I rememer my father doing everything he could... to save us.."

"They did not survive long enough for help to arrive, and I was hanging on by a thread. I spent several months in the hospital and the doctors say that it is nothing short of a mirical I am here now."

"Dead?"
"No," he whispers. "He made it home."

Janos snaps the locket shut and looks forward for several long seconds. He seems shocked and angry.

After a bit, he appologizes.
"Sorry. I liked him, though I knew him only a short time. He was a truly good person."

Another pause, Janos grimly continues.
"Ms. Lefevre, if you ever need anything,... anything at all, would you please let me know. As I said, your father did me a favor and I will honor that debt."

The night air is cool and crisp as Locky and Erica wander through the King family mansion's extensive grounds. The product of generations of careful maintenance, the grounds are landscaped into naturalistic stands of trees and shrubs interspersed with more formal pocket gardens.

Roses are, as advertised, everywhere. Sprawling, semi-wild rose bushes nestle into the plantings, and Locky and Eric stumble across more than one formal rose garden hidden among the winding paths. Most are dormant - the thorny bushes waiting patiently for the spring. A few bushes, second-guessed by some brief warming of the weather, have opened short-lived buds, destined to fail in the next cold snap. Locky can only guess what these gardens might look like in the summer, with the roses fully in bloom.

Erica continues to work on Locky (either out of legitimate interest or lack of anything better to do - he can't really tell), quizzing him about his adventures, work, and family without ever quite becoming intrusive - probably an acquired skill. She doesn't talk too much about herself, but does drop odd tidbits as lead-ins to questions.

She is German-born, though it sounds like she and her father came to the states when she was much younger, probably just after the Great War. Erica seems to be quite attached to her father (if not exactly respectful of him), but she may not have a mother - she doesn't refer to the matter even obliquely, but she never mentions a mother when referring to family. Her father seems to be reasonably well established, though she doesn't seem to consider him wealthy. Might be a matter of perspective, though.

After some time of wandering the gardens, Locky and Erica find themselves within sight of the mansion again - seeing the lights of the building's sprawling rear shining in the night. It looks like the reception is still in full swing, with a number of guests visible out on the sprawling building's verandas and porches.

The two of them are standing near to a landscaped pond, which is in turn bordered by a small planting of rose bushes. Unlike most in the gardens, these bushes appear to be recent additions - scrappy little things that look as if they have only recently begun to grow from planted cuttings. Erica has been silent for a bit, but now speaks up again, saying:

"You know, you should come up to New York sometime - I'm sure Daddy would love meet you. He was really enjoying something about your team and Britain a few weeks ago, and ... well, if you think about it, your connection to Mr. King means that you'll have a lot of opportunities later on. A lot of people are going to be interested in getting to know you now, and I have to admit that Daddy probably wouldn't be an exception."

“He was more than a good person. He was an amazing man and was taken long before the world had a chance to benefit from all of the contributions he could have made. He was a loving husband and father, a brilliant engineer, and patriot and humanitarian.”

“My mother was no less remarkable. She may not have been a genius, but she loved my father and I dearly and it took a special kind of woman to endure my father’s genius and encourage it.”

Brigitte’s eyes glaze over slightly as her mind wanders for a moment. She then blink herself back to the present and lets out a long sigh. Her brow furrows slightly as something then occurs to her.

“Debt?” she asks.

"Debt?" Janos parrots from an emotional distance. Then with more clarity,
"Yes, a debt. He was brave and risked his life beyond what anyone could have expected in order to save the lives of others, mine included. Suffice it to say, he helped make sure the war ended when it did and did not drag on for even more wasted years. For that, millions owe him a debt, but I am one of a few men still alive who realize it."

Janos pauses, lost in thought.
"So, if his daughter needs something that I can provide, I am honor bound to do what I must. I wish I had more to offer, but the only talent I seem to be good at is war."

In a very serious tone,
"If you ever need a life saved, or taken, I am your man."

Pointing up ahead, he says,
"Turn left here. Its a long straight away. Let's see how fast this thing goes."

Taking in what all Janos has to say, Brigitte decides to change the subject somewhat.

“This ‘thing’ as you call it is my father’s life’s work. I grew up working on this automobile and some of my fondest memories are of he and I working on it together. It has been clocked at three hundred and twelve kilometers per hour in a straightaway and I do all the test driving myself.”

She makes the turn and then grabs the front of her and hat and slips it off, only to replace it again, an obvious habit.

“Unfortunately, few people fully realize just how fast that is.” Brigitte adds with a grin as she settles into her seat a little more and proceeds to really open the engine up. She flies down the road, careful to avoid any traffic and pedestrians, the growl of the engine growing with each shift of the gears as she tests just how fast they can get up to on this straightaway.