Henslowe's Journal takes us to LA
November 5th (late that evening)
The group of us reunited that evening in Erik’s suite, to see what progress he had made with the journal. Not wishing to meddle with things he didn’t understand, the answer was: not much. The journal was protected by a stone bearing the evil eye. Otto, our resident expert in all things of the occult examined it briefly, but was undeterred – reaching into the box to retrieve a letter, the journal, and a key.
The note and key were a most unexpected but welcome surprise. If only the contents of the box might shed more light upon the case. All of those involved seem quite in agreement about the nature of their collective venture, and invested in the reality that there is some other-worldly power involved. Mr Henslowe again here refers to a creature, one which many of them believe(d) truly exists (and is both evil and powerful). I have to agree with Dr Keaton in finding the shared delusion intriguing, and look further to unravelling this mystery further.
Otto, who will be leaving tomorrow for a venture northwards (to the Arkham library), departs for the evening. He has promised to update our patron, Mrs W-R. The remainder of us, however, stayed put and took turns sleeping, reading and analysing Henslowe’s journal into the wee hours. Sadly, there was little of consequence within its pages. I gleaned two items of interest: “Vincent – Room 225” and “BA airfield 11th 10pm”. Of the former’s meaning we remain ignorant, perhaps a reference to his flat or hotel room number at the time. Of the latter, we can guess this is the date the group gathered for their flight to Los Angeles, since we (until proven otherwise) are working with the assumption the incident occurred on the 13th.
The remainder of the journal was a collection of sketches and rambling thoughts. At the beginning, these are of his fellow investigators – towards the end turning to the violent occurrences, the cult, and the creature. Another glimpse into the troubled mind of Douglas Henslowe, with troubling detail – but of little use to us.
November 6th (Tuesday)
The next morning, we prepared to leave for Los Angeles. Quincy dealt with the wrecked rented vehicle. The damages cost us $70 (I must remember to include this in my expenses to Mrs W-R). Erik and I went to the library to look up Mr Loman, but to no avail. Chastity went ahead to the airport to ready Frank and the plane. After our various errands, we checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to the airport. Before taking off, we made one more attempt at breaching the identity of the mysterious Daniel Loman.
We did find the airport check-in staff rather helpful. A flash of the badge (I’d forgotten how effective that can be; and in fairness a Federal Agent was assaulted in a hit-and-run incident, even if she was off-duty at the time) and a bit of truth was all it took for the clerk to spill the details about our foreign attackers.
Our silent assailants were ticketed to catch flights from Savannah to New York, then to Nova Scotia, on to Ireland, and eventually to Bangkok, confirming Otto’s theory that the tattoos associated them with Thailand. These tickets were, indeed, paid for by a Daniel Loman. The clerk further confirmed the group (or some group which looks similar, possibly some of the same and some different each time) are monthly visitors, using five very artificial Caucasian pseudonyms.
Feeling certain there was nothing more we could learn on the subject at the time, we returned to the Silver Sable and flew off towards Los Angeles. Chastity and Frank stopped us in Oklahoma for a refuel. I slept, although I rather wish I hadn’t, as I had an unusually disturbing dream – a nightmare, even, if one were to define it. I dreamt I was a patient at Joy Grove, bound by a straight-jacket and legchains; treated by Nurse Bethany (unlike the charming young woman who was so helpful to us, she bore two toothy, grinning mouths beneath a surgical mask) who threatened me with a syringe bearing a toothless mouth of its own. The experience is one I hope not to repeat, lest this investigation turn me into an insomniac.
At last we reached sunny Los Angeles, whose weather was far more welcoming than muggy Georgia. After much debate about where it would be most convenient to stay, we checked into The Michelangelo Hotel in the city centre (leaving the Silver Sable and her pilot Frank in Glendale). Over lunch we discussed our options, then once more split up to follow various leads. Erik and I visited the local paper, and were referred to one Arnold Freeman, a pressman who would have been with the paper in 1924. Mr Freeman recalled the incident, and mentioned that a B-movie actor, “Dicky Spend” (star of The Vampire Mystery) was stabbed to death in the incident. He helped us find a single article, which was merely about the death of this celebrity – citing the cause of death as “natural”.
I jotted a few notes from the article:
Richard Spend, age 32. Missed the Young Actresses Debut Ball (had taken a full-page ad which merely said “Thanks, Livvy. – Richard Spend” (referring to his co-star Olivia Clarendon from “The Black Cat”. Contracted by Universal for next project “Phantom of the Opera”.
Mr Freeman recommended we try Filmland Express to delve deeper, that they would have been more likely to cover such a sensational event.
