[Ed. Note: The following are excerpts from a recording cylinder believed to have belonged to a student of the infamous Doctor Skellington (no first name of record). This master criminal is said to have controlled large portions of the London underworld for nearly twenty-five years. He is most famous for operating "schools" for aspiring criminals of all sorts, granting scholarships to especially promising pupils in exchange for a percentage of their future "take". Sources within Scotland Yard maintain that Doctor Skellington was removed from business recently, although there is no official arrest record. Perhaps one of the city's bold Private Investigators brought this ne'er-do-well to a less than official justice? For historical interest the Gazette is happy to print these excerpts, although the editors caution that any attempt to use this information to aid in the violation of the Law is strictly without consent of the paper, which is hereby indemnified from all consequences.]

"Is the dictascroll running? Good. I won't be around forever, you know."

"It was easier in my early days, mind you. Not nearly as much of this technical tomfoolery, on either side of the battle line. Nothing more than a lump of coal for blackface and a couple of stiff wires for the locks, and we'd make our living fine. But for you children it's a different world, and those that don't wise up and mind their Science will be investigating some of the strongest locks in the country from the wrong side. The bobbies may not be any brighter today then they were back then, but they've got as many fancy tools as the Exchequer's Chest will purchase. Right good thing that we don't pay taxes, or I might just feel a bit cheated, financing both sides of this little game."

"But you'll want specifics, or it's not worth the pittance I'm charging you."

"Take locks, for example. It used to be a matter of just having the right touch with the tumblers, or filching the key from the washerwoman while her back was turned. Now you'll find Keyless Clockwork Digerata on some of the richer estates, and unless you know the mistress of the house's birthday you could be dialing numbers until the morning breaks. This calls for a bit of engineering of the social sort - you may not be able to pick the combination from the chambermaid's pocket, but a few drinks will have her talking. Or spy from across the street - you'll be surprised at how many rich men will spend a small fortune on a lock and then openly press in the combination within view of anyone with a mind toward looking. Once I even followed a gentleman home from the pub and all Good Samaritan like helped his drunken self push the correct levers as dictated from his very lips. A fine score that one was on the poor sot's next visit out."

"Alarms, now, are another matter. You'll still want to watch for dogs - although the variety of drugs to work into a meatball are almost countless these days. But more than one gentleman with more money than sense has invested in a Clockwork Hound, under the misapprehension that their security is as greatly ensured. Nothing of the sort. For you'll find that while the Clockwork Hound's jaws are sharp and strong, and its hearing is even better than its living namesake, the metal beast's vision is quite poor. Difficult bit of tinkering, from what I understand, mimicking the human eye. In fact, most of these automata can't even see you unless you're moving. That's right - stand still and quiet, and the thing will lumber right past you. If you're daring you can try to spring a gear while its back is turned - but best to just let it trundle into another room before you begin your acquisitions. The Electrical Watchdog that I've heard tell of might be a bit harder to fool, but only those truly deserving of being robbed would have one of those."

"I even remember one poor old widow who had been convinced by some unscrupulous salesman that her best protection would come from exchanging her terrier for a wax recording of dogs barking. I almost felt remorse at robbing her blind, although I did refund her the fifteen pounds she'd paid me for Doctor Teller's Automated Audio Home Security System. A moment of weakness on my part - none of you should ever succumb to such, I hope."

"And why is it that so many ladies will keep their jewels in a Seven-Lock Electrified Jewelry Box without ever realizing that the entire thing can be lifted, taken back to the safespot, and smashed into at leisure? I tell you, the man selling those things is the real criminal."

"What else, what else? Ah yes, poisons and toxins. The glories of the Inventive Age are all lavished upon giant gleaming steam-powered monstrosities lumbering through Hyde Park, while working away in obscurity are those who, to my mind, are ten times the genius. The array of pharmaceuticals available to the educated consumer boggles the imagination, and most of them rot away on the storage shelves of impoverished druggists simply because the customers have no idea what to ask for. Do you know that there is an herbal substance which, when sprinkled down a chimney, will produce a smoke to put the entire household to sleep for upwards of a half hour? And if you can't make a profit in half an hour - or a killing, if that's the sort of thing you're hired for - then you don't deserve to be in the business. What about an elixir that, surreptitiously introduced into an appropriately potent beverage, causes the subject to wax uncontrollably verbose about anything the questioner should happen to find of interest? Not to mention the vast cornucopia of truly deadly venoms that these fellows have cooked up for the sheer intellectual joy of it. Truly these are men to be admired and exploited."

"It looks as if the cylinder is rapidly approaching full, dear students. Tomorrow's lecture shall be upon those tools that the Yard has employed against us, and how to defeat each one. They do try to make our lives more interesting, don't they?"