The poor girl is totally ashamed, her face is as red as a tomato!<br/><br/>Johnson, with his grim look nods:<br/><em>- Okey Detective, lets go, he should be on his office. Down the hallway to the left, right Miss Carol?</em><br/>The poor little girl nods back.<br/><br/>Both detectives go down the hallway, Johnson just walks by it, like if it were a stinky alley. Brighid on the other hand know they are walking literally through history itself, the hallway is full of ancient relics, some of them are "new" (200 to 400 years) but other are really old, from the age of the pyramids. And with the decorations and preparations for the Black Pharao exhibition it's even more evident.<br/><br/>Finally both arrive the the office, on the door there is a sign saying "Prof. Archibald G. Perkinton / Curator". The door is partially open. Johnson knocks on the door and a decrepit voice from within says<em>"Come in, it's already open"</em><br/><br/>Brighid and Johnson enters the office. It a big space, with cabinets and shelves on the walls, on the back wall there is a tiny window allowing to enter some sunlight, otherwise the room would be completely in darkness. All the shelves are filled to the utmost with books, practically all are very old tomes. The cabinets have strange ornaments, from greek to egyptian, etruscan to baroque. On the middle of the room there is a big and heavy desk, overflowed with papers, lots of papers, some books and artifacts.<br/>Behind that mountain of paper there is a very old men, sitted in a chair that looks even older. A bold and thin white male, looks in his late 80s.<br/><br/>In fron of the desk there are a couple of chairs, these are almost brand new. The old man is reading a scroll, and with a deep voice says...<br/><em>- "Please, take a seat... You are the Detectives, right?"</em><br/>