August 19th 1920.
Midnight in the crypt of the St Justinian Church, Naples Italy.
A flashlight beam illuminates the dusty stone figures guarding the tombs of the saints. ‘Blast’ says Lord Griphon to his trusty manservant Harris, ‘this is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack!!’
"According to the manuscript M'Lord", said Harris holding up the torch to a battered sheet of vellum, "The tomb we're looking for should be on the other side of this wall". He shone the torch over the cut stone surface ahead of them. The light fixed onto a hole near the floor where several bricks had fallen into ruin.
Harris looked his employer up and down. Many was the man who had taken Lord Griphon's bulk as a sign of physical weakness only to be outdone by his great strength and endurance. But great as these virtues were, his girth made the next step inevitable.
"Perhaps if Sir would take the manuscript and hold onto my jacket, I shall crawl through and investigate the next room?"