{"type":"location","location":{"title":"The Probate Office, Lagos","description":"You stand in a modest office on Broad Street, the afternoon sun filtering through jalousie windows and casting geometric shadows across a cluttered mahogany desk. The air smells of leather, paper, and the faint sweetness of palm wine from somewhere nearby. Before you lies an open ledger—the estate accounts of Ọbà Adeniyi, a merchant prince whose death three weeks ago has set the entire commercial quarter of Lagos into whispered speculation.\n\nYour superior, Mr. Whitmore of the colonial surveyor's office, hired you personally for this work. 'Extraordinary situation,' he'd said, tapping ash from his cigarette. 'The man was worth a fortune. Portuguese gold, Indian cotton profits, rubber concessions—all of it documented. And now... well, see for yourself.'\n\nYou have seen for yourself. The ledgers are pristine, the arithmetic immaculate, and the total reads: Zero pounds, zero shillings, zero pence. Yet whispers in the trading houses suggest Adeniyi's actual wealth was substantial—perhaps enormous. The court has granted you two weeks before the estate is liquidated and its remaining assets transferred to the Crown.\n\nOn the desk before you: the main ledger, a stack of correspondence in various states of organization, a calling card for the late merchant's personal secretary (one Yèmi Adedotun), and a handwritten note from Whitmore that reads simply: 'Find where it went. The family claims they know nothing. The British partners have gone rather quiet. And do be careful—seven children, seven different stories, seven reasons to see you fail.'","suggestedActions":["Examine the main ledger more closely","Sort through the correspondence and letters","Visit Yèmi Adedotun, the personal secretary","Investigate the British business partners","Interview the merchant prince's children"],"conversation":"03kvi7mcdk7m04zkxhzvquwj"},"conversationLength":1,"maxFreeConversationLength":10}