A problem with the bills.

March 6th 1935 (Wednesday)

We met Frank at the airfield after a proper breakfast and checking out of our grand hotel. We introduced Howard to Frank, and offered his services as a co-pilot. The pair seemed to get on well, and Howard got a goodly tour of the plane’s various systems and amenities. It wasn’t long until we were in the sky and headed – once more – for Savannah. It feels somehow wrong to be retracing our steps so soon, but then again, perhaps it has been just the right amount of time.

In Savannah, wishing to avoid both the hotel we stayed in as well as The Gastonian (where the Thai thugs stay), we chose a middling-level hotel succinctly named The Savannah Hotel. The weather is humid here, which comes as a strange shock (despite its familiarity) as a harsh counter to the dry desert heat we suffered for so long. We checked into our rooms and gathered in mine, where we discussed and distributed the five tomes. Best we get on with our reading, I think, to see if there are more clues, more leads we could be following, or at the very least a better understanding of any aspect of that which we could be facing.

Further, we discussed a plan to investigate the status of the Thai thugs and their presence or scheduled arrival here to Savannah. Fortunately, they have not yet encountered Howard, who seemed amenable to doing a bit of surveillance on behalf of the group. We agreed it would be best to know more about them before approaching either the asylum or Mrs Henslowe, which would make obvious our purpose. For now, however, dinner beckons.

March 7th, 1935 (Thursday)

We spend breakfast making more plans. The situation is delicate, and we hope there won’t be any repeat run-ins with tattooed thugs or men hired to chase us out of town. But, the longer we lingered, the sooner our presence would be noted, so we – at last – jumped in.

We spent the afternoon on various errands. We hope to keep Howard’s identity separate from the group as long as possible, so have largely split up. Quincy spent the afternoon at the library (to little avail), Otto rented a seedy apartment (for plans which proved unnecessary), I bought Howard a rifle (which I hope he won’t have to use).

On the way back to the hotel, I walked a few shadier streets of Savannah, familiarizing myself with the turf, and looking for places we might ask questions about the Nectar substance. In particular, I noted the location of The Alligator Club, a jazz joint which might be the perfect combination of upscale and down.

That evening, we sent Howard to The Gastonian for drinks and dinner. He was out much of the evening, while we tried to distract ourselves with a pleasant meal. When he returned, he told us, according to one bartender, the Thai thugs haven’t been seen for several months, but that they also stay at other hotels (the Soto, and even The Hotel Savannah, where we are currently staying).

Good news and bad news, I suppose. Good they aren’t in town, bad they’re either in town somewhere else (or could be anytime) or we could have trouble using them to track down Daniel Loman. Perhaps we can still learn what they were doing here in Savannah. It seems an awful coincidence they would have disappeared the same time we did.

March 8th (Friday)

Feeling a bit more secure for our safety, we carried on next morning to the Henslowe Estate. Once more, it was trial by fire for Howard, who truly holds up well under pressure. He posed as an accountant from Joy Grove, there to speak about the bills. Whilst Howard was welcomed inside by Mr Currothers, Grace and Quincy and Otto scaled the wall and headed for the cellar. Unfortunately, they were cut off by the dogs and beat a hasty retreat back to the vehicle.

Although Howard was welcomed inside, it did not go all well. Apparently, Mrs Henslowe (who is alive and reasonably well in consideration of her advanced age) either did not know or has forgotten her estate is paying the bills for Edgar Job’s treatment. She was upset by this, became confused and asked Howard to leave. His leaving was, apparently, less graceful than his entrance, and we left the property in a hurry.

Not wishing Mrs Henslowe to have time to communicate with Joy Grove, the others dropped me off to meet with Dr Keating. Dr Keating and Bethany (who is apparently being receptively courted by a salesman, Mr Roper) both remembered me and my story. I asked to see Dr Teak, the head doctor who has also overseen both Henslowe and Job in the past, which turned out to be a great error. Dr Teak was not enthused to meet me, and there was great to-do about having my “paperwork” in order.

After some discussion with Dr Teak, I agreed to have my supervisor contact the Sanitarium, which George kindly handled for me the next morning. I visited again the next afternoon, and was greeted with slightly more decorum (although only slightly). I was informed there had been some fuss with Job the day before, and so he was under more sedation than normal. But I was allowed to re-interview Mr Henslowe while the nurses determined Mr Job’s status.

I learned little enough new from Mr Henslowe. I had not had a chance to review my notes and had completely forgotten we’d led him to believe Walter Winston was still alive. My heart sank at his repeated pleading to have us talk to Winston, that “Walter would remember” more than he. I fear, however, telling him his last remaining friend is no longer with us may set him back. Or worse. So, on with the deception.

What I did learn from Henslowe was threefold. Firstly, it’s probable that Vincent Stack came from the New York area, somewhere up near where Walter Winston lived. Secondly, the motel where the five associates stayed in California was called the Sunrise Motel (it may be worth paying a visit there to Room 225 to check for secret compartments). Thirdly, there is an Asian woman who also went to the parties, who stood out by being strikingly beautiful. It’s possible she is our link to Thailand (perhaps, a stretch perhaps, even she might be Danielle Loman?)

I have asked Dr Teak to examine with me the payment records for Edgar Job, whilst I peruse the other files. Dr Teak is under the impression the State of California continues to pay for Job’s treatment. It will be interesting to see what the files contain now Dr Keating has been placed on leave. I hope to find a signature. Who is paying to keep Edgar Job alive?