Excerpt from Book One -
Ms. Mabel Ambrose's Head,
Chapter Three, Her Majesty's Special Investigator :

The bronze hydraulic elevator quickly carried me up to the top floor. I stepped out and, reading the slip of paper in my hand, located the door to the Professor's chambers. Three down and to the left, the third office on the third floor.

The door was crafted from walnut, polished and touched with ornate finery. A plaque set into its centre read :

~ Prof. Mordecai Strange ~
Her Majesty's Special Investigator
to the Antipodean Colonies
By Appointment Only

The only thing which might have been considered unusual about the door was the small carved seal which was attached above the plaque. The letters HRH were spelt out in a curvy style, the spirals on the bottom of the two "H's" curling to enclose two interlocking circles which were split up the middle by a sword held in a gauntleted hand.

I had seen the double circle symbol before, it represented the Professor's "Synchronistic Method" of criminal detection and the HRH no doubt referred to his appointment by Her Majesty, the Queen.

I would not understand the importance of the sword or the seal as a whole for many years, not until after the Professor's death, for their meaning was secret and known only to a handful of like-minded souls who were scattered about the world.

I turned the brass handle and looked again at the slip of paper in my hand, anxiously recalling the last line on the plaque. Captain Steele had called me a liar when I told him that I had been summoned and now, in spite of the proof I held, I began to doubt it myself.

I would later learn that the Professor rarely, if ever, accepted solicitations for his assistance.
He was only interested in cases of a particular type and even then was very discerning and eccentric in his method. He might ignore the case of a serial murder but then spend months on the trail of a missing husband.
He would be unavailable to search for a missing child and then, a short while later turn up with it and simultaneously solve a murder long forgotten to the public mind.
He was a mystery and in my three years on the street I had learnt that very little in life held any real mystery, so I checked the slip one more time for good measure and, bolstered by its authority, opened the door.

Professor Strange was writing at his desk and didn't bother to look up as I entered. He was wearing a dark violet smoking jacket, a clay pipe clasped between his teeth as he worked.
I stood there, unmoving for some time, not wanting to disturb him.
When he was finished he took the pipe from his mouth, exhaled a plume of smoke into the air and looked up at me.

They cut straight through to my soul, those eyes. I began to sweat, to tremble slightly for even at twleve years of age I had much that I wished to keep hidden and it was common knowledge that no man could keep a thing concealed in his heart when subjected to the Professor's gaze. That morning was to prove no exception.

"Close the door behind you Jeremiah Sleep. Come and tell me about the angel you fished out of the river last night."

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~ A Bearbrass Gallery ~

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Bearbrass by night	The Bearbrass Police News - Feature on Underground Boxing Rings, July 1876. Tipoo Hayes & Jack Huxley are found to have conducted a bloody match lasting over 132 rounds	Professor Strange's Famous Cases The Bearbrass Times, May, 1889.
Life of a street-boy, The Bearbrass Chronicle, September, 1887	Jeremiah Sleep, circa.1899	The Eaglehawk Tragedy - Detective Sgt. Dungey. Photographs by Adolphus Verey, 1897.
Jack White's Pipe. A "Jacob" pipe belonging to the King of the Bearbrass Underworld.	Dr. Tiberius Quirk, Anatomist & Stage Magician. Dr. Quirk, an avowed athiest, dares the devil to take advantage of the precarious perils endured by "volunteers" in his El Dorado entertainments,	Dr. Quirk's famous "Headless Man" trick.

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Excerpt from Book One -
Ms. Mabel Ambrose's Head,
Chapter Thirteen, The Shadow Gallery:

We jumped on a tram and rode it up to Bourke Street, cutting through a laneway to Collins Street to get to where the King's palace stood.

I needed to move on, to ally myself with a new power. The Professor was missing and I was a twelve year old boy with the weight of the world upon my shoulders.
I didn't want to think about the men who had killed the girl I had pulled out of the river or the fact that they were now tracking me down and I didn't want to give a thought to Professor Mordecai Strange and his Synchronistic Method.

He had vanished, left me on my own just like every other adult in my life, but I didn't have time to dwell on the bitterness of it all or push the thoughts away. I had to survive and I wasn't capable of doing that on my own.

The Cyclorama, a strange octagonal brick building, predecessor to the cinematograph. It had a rotating band of painted scenery through which silent actors moved accompanied by music, sound effects and shadow screens which were rumoured to have been bought from a Sumatran sultan. I believed that rumour, the Bearbrass King had a high opinion of himself and if he could have gotten such a thing to decorate his make-shift palace he would have.

It still had the timeworn banners above the door advertising "The Battle of Waterloo" and "The Seige of Paris ". The attraction itself had been shut down four years ago, run into the ground like so many businesses as the gold rush petered out. It stood ignored, tucked away off the street, heavy wood doors locked shut and a sign nailed to the right side door reading :

Closed.
No public access.
Tresspassers will me prosecuted.

Carved beneath the sign with a pocket knife someone had added in angular letters :

"IF THEY ARE NOT HUNG FIRST BY US."

To the side of this improvised addition was a crude scratch drawing of a clay pipe, which was Jack White's sign, the Bearbrass King of the Night, letting folk who might want to get inside know that this place was already claimed and should only be misused if you were tired of life and wished to be found floating face down in the Yarra Yarra come morning.

I tried the secret knock and when that failed I hammered on the door for a full minute. When that also got no response the boys joined in and we set to wailing and kicking until we heard the bolt slide away on the other side and Percy's familiar curses graced our ears.

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