August 6th, 1937- Outside of Providence, Rhode Island
The starry sky above the rural road is like a threadbare cloth. The glow of galaxies beyond lends the night a pallor broken only where the road ends, at a private airplane hangar. It's bright there, flooded with artificial light, hounded by fat moths. The limousine's headlights are dim in comparison, but they glint off another limousine, parked ahead, and what looks like a posh sitting room set up on the hangar floor before a twin-engine passenger plane. It's an odd instance of civilization- of unfolded trunk shelves and lit reading lamps- amid the functional metal housing of the hangar, amid the rough weeds and woods at the verge of the airfield.
Your limousine stops, and gloved men come to open the doors. Behind them is the woman you've come to meet: Janet Winston-Rogers. Forty and vibrant, she's a splash of red against the concrete and steel, her cigarette smoke snaking around her in the air.
"Thank you for coming,"she says. "I apologize for the mysteriousness of this meeting."
How do you introduce yourself? How are you dressed for this meeting?
Robert exits from the car and reaches into the breast pocket of his bespoke suit, pulling out a silver cigarette case and lazily drawing one of its contents and tapping it against the case as he approaches the woman. Stashing the case and producing a lighter the former soldier, himself graying at the temples and showing a similar age to the woman, lights his cigarette, stashes his lighter and ambles up to the woman and takes her hand. Offering a light peck he nods, Ms. Winston-Rogers. I am Robert Creswell the second. My father regrets that he could not attend but trusts that I can be an adequate replacement in his stead. The man's smile is warm and just almost hides the light acidic tone around the word "father".
Robert is fully dressed in Saville Row finery; a modern suit, a long coat, hat and high end dress style shoes. Modern style with elite sensibilities.
Exiting the limo, Udko looks around with interest at his surroundings. Udko himself is an older man, with the thin frame of a man who cares little about food, lates 50's with thinning, slightly greasy hair that has gone to gray. His clothes are of fashions that would have been stylish a decade earlier but now look out of place compared to the dapper Creswell and his hostess. The seat of his pants are worn and his tie frayed. Dandruff flecks his suit coat. He absentmindedly pushes a pair of spectacles back up his nose as he nods in greeting to Miss Winston-Rogers.
"Ah yes, Miss Winston-Rogers good to see you again, I was interested to hear about the death of your father. I do wish he had continued his treatments under my care. I think I was getting close to finding the root of his problems," Udko says as he swats at a fat moth that has flown into his face. "I am struck by the oddness of this meeting location. You wish to keep this meeting confidential, eh?"
Even as his making his greetings to his hostess, his eyes stray to Creswell. Rich, vain, spoiled, fop, father issues, likely overly close to mother...hmmm...possibly too early for a diagnosis.
Robert exits from the car and reaches into the breast pocket of his bespoke suit, pulling out a silver cigarette case and lazily drawing one of its contents and tapping it against the case as he approaches the woman. Stashing the case and producing a lighter the former soldier, himself graying at the temples and showing a similar age to the woman, lights his cigarette, stashes his lighter and ambles up to the woman and takes her hand. Offering a light peck he nods, Ms. Winston-Rogers. I am Robert Creswell the second. My father regrets that he could not attend but trusts that I can be an adequate replacement in his stead. The man's smile is warm and just almost hides the light acidic tone around the word "father".
Robert is fully dressed in Saville Row finery; a modern suit, a long coat, hat and high end dress style shoes. Modern style with elite sensibilities.
Janet half-smiles at your formal greeting.
"Thank you, Mr. Creswell- Robert, if I may? Truth be told, I was hoping that your father would ask you to come; my father relayed stories about your service in the Great War and I'm in need of gentlemen that can be resourceful and discreet.""You must have had a very long trip- please, have a seat and we'll get down to business in a few moments.", she says while indicating a small sitting area.
Indeed, this corner of the hangar is strangely posh and comfortable. Short folding bookshelves are set up, full of reference books and encyclopedias, portable tables covered in maps stand at the edges of a few overlapping area rugs. It's like an expeditionary camp in the midst of the countryside, but with deep, broken-in leather chairs and green-glass reading lamps giving it a feeling like some literati den.
Exiting the limo, Udko looks around with interest at his surroundings. Udko himself is an older man, with the thin frame of a man who cares little about food, lates 50's with thinning, slightly greasy hair that has gone to gray. His clothes are of fashions that would have been stylish a decade earlier but now look out of place compared to the dapper Creswell and his hostess. The seat of his pants are worn and his tie frayed. Dandruff flecks his suit coat. He absentmindedly pushes a pair of spectacles back up his nose as he nods in greeting to Miss Winston-Rogers.
"Ah yes, Miss Winston-Rogers good to see you again, I was interested to hear about the death of your father. I do wish he had continued his treatments under my care. I think I was getting close to finding the root of his problems," Udko says as he swats at a fat moth that has flown into his face. "I am struck by the oddness of this meeting location. You wish to keep this meeting confidential, eh?"
Even as his making his greetings to his hostess, his eyes stray to Creswell. Rich, vain, spoiled, fop, father issues, likely overly close to mother...hmmm...possibly too early for a diagnosis.
Janet extends a hand to Dr. Udko.
"Dr. Udko, I'm glad you could make it. As I'm sure you recall, father was quite... reluctant to speak of his condition. And after my mother passed, he finally had his way. It was pancreatic cancer that brought my father's end- by the time his physicians knew what was wrong, it was too late.""And yes, you are for the most part correct- privacy is very important for what I'd like to discuss with you... as for the plane, well- please. Have a seat and we'll discuss it shortly."
Anatoly was not sure what to expect, with the limousine and all, but knowing Janet, he decides against his sunday suit. Instead he is wearing cuffed gray pants, with an oxford shirt, sturdy boots, and his leather aviation jacket. He also has his normal scarf around his neck, and drooped down over one shoulder. He also has his ever present satchel over the other shoulder. As he approaches the group gathered at the hanger entrance he whistles a tune he heard earlier in the day, and tips his hat at the group.
"Greetings friends. Sorry if I'm late, and underdressed. Janet you look wonderful as always". He then turns to the other men extending his hand. "Hello. I am Anatoly Dudko. Pleased to make your acquaintance".
When the limo door opens, out steps a tall young man, his hair hidden under a tightly wrapped turban. He wears dark eyeliner beneath his eyes, which bore and pierce into you with an intensity you've rarely seen. He wears a crimson achka embroidered with golden threads that form symbols both ancient and astrological. The outfit is fitted to his thin physique and gives an impression of mysticism and otherworldliness.
Upon stepping out, he inhales deeply. "Yes, I can feel the vibrations of the spirit world among us here." Seeming to finally 'notice' Janet, he bows at the waist and takes her hand, kissing it lightly. "My esteemed hostess, I am honored to be at your service. I understand you have need of my many gifts tonight?" His wicked grin and flashing eyes give the words an air of double entrendre.
Anatoly was not sure what to expect, with the limousine and all, but knowing Janet, he decides against his sunday suit. Instead he is wearing cuffed gray pants, with an oxford shirt, sturdy boots, and his leather aviation jacket. He also has his normal scarf around his neck, and drooped down over one shoulder. He also has his ever present satchel over the other shoulder. As he approaches the group gathered at the hanger entrance he whistles a tune he heard earlier in the day, and tips his hat at the group.
"Greetings friends. Sorry if I'm late, and underdressed. Janet you look wonderful as always". He then turns to the other men extending his hand. "Hello. I am Anatoly Dudko. Pleased to make your acquaintance".
Janet inclines her head to your compliment.
"Anatoly, welcome. Always ready to for an expedition, I see. Please, make yourself comfortable."
When the limo door opens, out steps a tall young man, his hair hidden under a tightly wrapped turban. He wears dark eyeliner beneath his eyes, which bore and pierce into you with an intensity you've rarely seen. He wears a crimson achka embroidered with golden threads that form symbols both ancient and astrological. The outfit is fitted to his thin physique and gives an impression of mysticism and otherworldliness.
Upon stepping out, he inhales deeply. "Yes, I can feel the vibrations of the spirit world among us here." Seeming to finally 'notice' Janet, he bows at the waist and takes her hand, kissing it lightly. "My esteemed hostess, I am honored to be at your service. I understand you have need of my many gifts tonight?" His wicked grin and flashing eyes give the words an air of double entrendre.
Janet raises an eyebrow.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Amadeus. I may require your gifts for longer than just tonight..", she replies, blowing cigarette smoke between her red lips,"... so I hope you can keep up. But please, have a seat and we'll start our discussion shortly."
Amadeus laughs in a delighted way. "Of course. I am sure the spirits will be with me in this endeavor." He smiles and takes his seat.
Udko examines the other two men with clinical detachment...
Hmmm...the Russian...over confident, rambler, well-mannered, likely covering hidden phobias...
The Egyptian, con-man, clever not intelligent, devious, charmer, likely a result of a difficult childhood, potentially a weak link...
Janet beckons the detective over.
"Detective Marlowe, thank you so much for coming. Please, please- make yourself comfortable. When Captain Hawthorne said you were taking leave, I couldn't help but think that I would rather be working than stewing at home, were I in your shoes..."
Mrs. Winston-Rogers takes her seat in one of the broken-in leather chairs in the "expedition camp" sitting area of the hangar.
She takes a drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out in an ashtray.
"Well, let's get down to brass tacks gentlemen. The reason I've troubled you all to come out here is that I want to hire you to take a look into some private matters, some questions that my father left unanswered for the last thirteen years."
"My father had a reputation as a driven man. Self-made in the pharmaceuticals business after the War, he spent several years after making his fortune traveling the globe and studying folklore. Which lead to an interest in... the occult. He was bent on battling something, but he wouldn't tell us what it was. When he wasn't traveling, my father was having meetings- secret meetings- with people he wasn't in business with. Other dabblers in the occult. My mother didn't like them."
"This is when my mother started drinking."
Janet pauses for a moment, long enough that you're about to prompt her, before she starts in again on her own.
"My mother and I watched him grow ever more distant, until he spent almost the entirety of 1924 away from home. On the trail of some 'bad people', as he called them."
"Something must have happened in August of '24, something that sent him back to us rattled and unraveling. He didn't have any more secret meetings after that. He stopped traveling. But he wasn't well. He saw a series of psychiatrists- including Dr. Udko- for a few years. He burned his books. He hardly ate. He jumped at shadows, insisted he was being watched."
"... He was never the same. He forbade us from asking about his travels and said more than once that 'nothing mattered anymore.' When my mother died five years ago, he hardly grieved. After that, he only became more paranoid and frustrated, until he finally passed earlier this year, a shadow of himself."
Amadeus leans forward, his eyes burning with curiosity. "Did your father preserve any of his writings? Any tome or scrap of paper? In delving into the darker arts, one may gleam insight from the unlikeliest places. Perhaps... Even now I can feel his spirit among us, urging me to seek his writings. I believe a trip to his library is in order!"
Amadeus leans forward, his eyes burning with curiosity. "Did your father preserve any of his writings? Any tome or scrap of paper? In delving into the darker arts, one may gleam insight from the unlikeliest places. Perhaps... Even now I can feel his spirit among us, urging me to seek his writings. I believe a trip to his library is in order!"
Janet raises an amused eyebrow, a slight smirk across her face.
"I very much doubt that my father- or his spirit- would want any of us to delve into this, after what it cost him. I'm not asking you to look into this for his sake, Amadeus, but for mine."
She pulls a large envelope from a nearby shelf, holding it in her lap.
"Besides, my father burned all of his books and papers in 1925. The rest is gone with the estate sale, besides what you see here.", she says, motioning to the fold-out bookcases nearby.
Amadeus smiles in a knowing fashion and intones theatrically "Yes, my dear, but in death all things are made clear, all eyes are opened! Your dear father's spirit has seen the error of his efforts to destroy the truth and now seeks only the satisfaction that one such as myself has come to understand the esoteric path he found himself upon, to take up his quest and seek the Truth!" He stands as he says this and gesticulates wildly, his sense of drama in full bloom.
Using assess honesty to see if she's hiding something
"Yes, yes, your father, very tragic case." Udko pauses to pull a slightly ratty-looking handkerchief out of his pocket and uses it to clean his glasses. "Why us, why now Miss? Has something more happened? Hmm?
At the indication that the lady actually was hoping for Robert the man merely offers a light smile and a nod, moving to the table as indicated. Robert sits leaning back, cigarette in hand with one leg crossed over another. As the conversation turns to "business" Robert mostly watches and listens offering a very plain skepticism in the nature of Amadeus' line of commentary.
As Dr Udko's offers his question Robert sits up a bit straight and nods, Indeed. Tell us more.
Assess Honesty:
"It was after my father passed that I found these letters, from a man named Douglas Henslowe."
She places the large envelope on the table between you.
"Apparently Mr. Henslowe had worked with my father up until August of '24. I think he may have been one of the people father met with at the house, time and again. He wrote a few times, always asking my father to write down what had happened, what he had seen. My father never did. He never answered those letters, but he kept them. And it looks to me like he studied them carefully."
Within the envelope, you see a dozen letters, each with a postmark from Savannah, Georgia.
"This Douglas Henslowe wrote another letter, which came earlier this year just before my father died. All I have to go on are the postmarks, sent from two addresses in Savannah. I think he must know what happened to my father in 1924. And I want to know what my father was mixed up in... and whether I should be apologizing for him or defending him. Whether he left work unfinished, whether I'm in any danger."
Janet lights another cigarette, puffs out some smoke.
"I would ask you all to fly to Savannah and find out from Douglas Henslowe what he knows and what exactly my father was fighting. And what drove him into the paranoia of his later years. I have a plane and a pilot to lend you. Time is a factor. Money is less so."
Amadeus' eyes light up at the last statement. "I sense the spirits approve of your request, my dear. I would be honored to help you in this way!" Amadeus bows with a sweeping motion.
"I guess I do know you a little bit. I've got my overnight bag in the trunk of the Limo, and my ditty bag here. I also told Gladys that I might be gone for a while, so she's ready to let the grad students pick up my course load, so I'm good for a couple of weeks anyway".
Robert casts a dark look at Amadeus but says nothing instead turning his attention to their host as he once again withdraws his cigarette case, pulls one of its contents and lightly taps the cigarette on the case before returning the case to his pocket. Lighting the cigarette Robert nods to Janet, Well my father always thought highly of your father though they were not especially close. Nonetheless the Creswell family means to see your troubles eased and your mind at peace. If talking to this Henslowe fellow puts a foot on the right path, so be it.
Udko listens carefully to Janet's words and tone as he studies her body language.
"Come my dear, we have known each other for years. Clearly something more troubles you. As always, you may count on my discretion whatever you may wish to share. I give you my word as a physician to treat anything said with the greatest of respect."
Spend 1 reassurance pool point (3 left)
Udko listens carefully to Janet's words and tone as he studies her body language.
"Come my dear, we have known each other for years. Clearly something more troubles you. As always, you may count on my discretion whatever you may wish to share. I give you my word as a physician to treat anything said with the greatest of respect."
Spend 1 reassurance pool point (3 left)
She takes a drag on her cigarette, likely to consider how best to answer. In a puff of smoke, she says,"I never shared my father's interest in the occult. Perhaps because I saw what it cost him. To be honest with you, I'm not convinced that all the mysticism he preoccupied himself with is anything more than hokum. But..."
She sighs.
"I will admit, at one point I thought my father's house was haunted. Shadows seemed to bend and warp, and odd stains appeared from nowhere. I thought I... saw things. Things in the walls. But of course it was all the nervous energy of a frightened girl. At any rate, I haven't seen any such things since my father died."
In an ethereal voice, Amadeus reaches for the letters. "The spirits speak! They wish for me to examine these letters, my dear."
Anatoly will start opening and reading the letters, starting with the most recent.
Udko listens carefully to Janet's words and tone as he studies her body language.
"Come my dear, we have known each other for years. Clearly something more troubles you. As always, you may count on my discretion whatever you may wish to share. I give you my word as a physician to treat anything said with the greatest of respect."
Spend 1 reassurance pool point (3 left)
She takes a drag on her cigarette, likely to consider how best to answer. In a puff of smoke, she says,"I never shared my father's interest in the occult. Perhaps because I saw what it cost him. To be honest with you, I'm not convinced that all the mysticism he preoccupied himself with is anything more than hokum. But..."
She sighs.
"I will admit, at one point I thought my father's house was haunted. Shadows seemed to bend and warp, and odd stains appeared from nowhere. I thought I... saw things. Things in the walls. But of course it was all the nervous energy of a frightened girl. At any rate, I haven't seen any such things since my father died."
"Hmmm...yes, yes, likely hokum, but as the bard said "There are more things in heaven and earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
That's all I've got for the interview
Douglas Henslowe's Letters
With a quick look at the twelve letters in the envelope, you can see that they've all been sent from two different addresses in Savannah over the course of the last 12-13 years, roughly annually. The first half-dozen letters, starting in 1925, come from one address: 513 West Henry Street. Then, in 1933, three letters are sent from a second address, 23 Old Hope Road. Finally, starting in 1934, the remaining three letters come from 513 West Henry Street at a rate of one per year.
Skimming through them you can immediately see that someone (presumably Walter Winston) went over the first several letters, circling certain letters in key words, scratching sequences of numbers into the margins, and drawing lines from one seemingly random word to another. Anatoly or Robert, if shown, recognize the work of a would-be codebreaker.
As for the contents of the letters, you see before you missives from an increasingly desperate and hopeless man, begging Walter Winston to write back with his own version of the events in August of '24 to, as Henslowe writes, "Appease my doctors, who do not believe me." The letters are repetitive and often vague, but on an immediate reading you can glean a few important insights:
- Douglas Henslowe refers to deaths several times. "Tell me they didn't die for nothing," he writes, and "Perhaps if they'd followed me out of there, they would still be alive." Details as to who died, how and for what are not in the letters.
- Henslowe clearly regarded Winston as the "leader" of the group.
- Henslowe apparently traveled "back to Savannah" right after the events in 1924, without seeing Walter Winston again- but Douglas Henslowe doesn't reveal where he traveled from.
Details of the letters:
January 11th, 1925 (513 West Henry Street)
"Please write back with your account of what happened, my doctors do not believe me."
June 16th, 1926 (513 West Henry Street)
"Don't worry, I haven't told them where this was. And I won't."
July 6th, 1927 (513 West Henry Street)
"Tell me they didn't die for nothing. Tell me they didn't get away with it."
February 19th, 1929 (513 West Henry Street)
"Perhaps if they'd followed me out of there, they'd still be alive"
September 27th, 1930 (513 West Henry Street)
"If you'd just send word, telling your version of events, perhaps the doctors would believe you. And me."
October 13th, 1931 (513 West Henry Street)
"Are you ignoring me, or is this your way of trying to help me? Your silence echoes. I think you're trying to tell me something."
March 13th, 1933 (23 Old Hope Road)
"Things are better here. I think maybe I'm free of that day, at last."
May 25th, 1933 (23 Old Hope Road)
"I'm sorry I haven't left you in peace, my old friend. I won't write again."
August 9th, 1933 (23 Old Hope Road)
"I've made a book of everything I remember and hidden it away here. But I'll tell you where it is. Just ask."
February 1st, 1934 (513 West Henry Street)
"It's been so long, I know. But I don't think I'll ever be able to escape what happened."
April 14th, 1935 (513 West Henry Street)
"It wasn't real. They tell me it wasn't real. I'm sorry if I've frightened you."
December 29th, 1936 (513 West Henry Street)
"Do you even remember what happened anymore? I wonder if you've even opened my letters."
Udko looks over Anatoly's shoulder as he reads the letters. Once they reach the end, Udko starts pacing and muttering under his breath. After a brief period, he stops and faces the others...
"These are very interesting letters and in my opinion tell us much about the psyche of both the author and our host's father." Udko pauses to pull an obviously well used pipe from his jacket pocket, drops in a bit of tobacco, and after lighting it, begins to puff away.
"Hmm, starting with Henslowe, the man's mind shows clear signs of psychosis. At some point he was under medical care. He is trying to suppress the memory of a very traumatic event. Given time, I could bring those suppressed memories out."
More puffing...
"Of course, I already had diagnosed Mr. Winston's paranoid schizophrenia from the time he was under my care but these weird lines and circles on the letters reveal some strange fascination with the letters. Note, that these markings are absent from the later communications, no doubt due to the improvement Mr. Winston made while I cared for him."
Puff, puff...
"Now then my dear, you obviously knew about the Savannah connection...do any of your reference books," Udko says as he gestures with his pipe, "contain information on Savannah, specifically anything that would help us determine information about the addresses the letters came from?"
Use Library Use ability
"There should be some almanacs, an atlas and the encyclopedias, Doctor.", Janet says, pointing to the rightmost bookshelf.
Doctor Udko finds after a few moments of research that the first address on West Henry Street is within the city limits, while the Old Hope Road address's postal code is outside of the city proper. More specific information will likely be easier to find in Savannah.
Amadeus scans the letters. "Clearly your father was involved with the darkest of arts, my dear. We must track down this letter writer and discover what secrets his fevered mind held. I forsee that even as psychically ungifted as the dear 'Doctor' is here, he may yet be of use to the Great Work that I have undertaken. Let us be away!"
Robert will inquire about the state of affairs in Savannah as far as a car and potentially a guide, if she does not already have arrangements made he will ask to use a telephone to make such arrangements.
" I leave it to you all to make your arrangements in Savannah- I'm sure you may be able to find a car or two to rent near the airfield and a hotel to suit your needs. Keep track of your expenses and I'll be sure to reimburse you.", Janet says, as the conversation turns toward logistics.
Still peering curiously through the books, Udko straightens as he hears the others speak about transportation in Savannah. "I suggest we rent a vehicle large enough for all of us and any baggage we may have. My driving skills are quite advanced and I would be happy to drive."
With he thoughts stated, Udko returns to the limousine and pulls out his only luggage, an old medical bag. If anyone looked they would find nothing more than what a doctor would normally carry, unless they dug down to the bottom of the bag where they would find a Colt Police Positive .32 revolver that had been give to Udko by a grateful detective for preparing a report on the likely mental state and habits of a killer in Baltimore a few years before.
I'm ready to move on when everyone else is.
Chapter One- Savannah, Georgia
Having agreed to take Janet up on her offer of employment, you all resolve to fly to Savannah and find out what Douglas Henslowe knows about this "incident" that drove Walter Winston to the edge of his sanity 13 years ago.
You're all driven home or to your hotels in Providence to get your luggage ready and to inform your friends and family of where you're going. After your packing is done, you all get some rest in your respective domiciles only to wake bright and early the next day when the limousine returns to collect you. Feel free to narrate a scene where you tell one of your Sources where you're heading.
Returning to the airfield, you find a man with a bulbous and once-broken nose finishing off the pre-flight checks to the gleaming silver airplane in the already humid August morning. He nods to you. "Name's Frank Kearns, I'm Mrs. Winston's pilot. You all ready to go?" You pile into the passenger plane, buckling into your seats. After a few moments testing the engines and checking instruments, Frank has you airborne and en route to Savannah. The flight lasts several hours and it's almost noon when you land in Hunter Field, a few miles out of town. Kearns opens up the cargo compartment, helping you all to secure your luggage.
Closing the hatch, he says,"Well, I'll take care of getting some hangar space and get a motel room nearby. You need me, I'll be ready to go. Should be a rental car office nearby. Good luck with this thing Mrs. Winston wants you to handle for her."
It's only moments before sweat is beading your brows and trickling down your backs in the hot Georgia summer.
The rental office attendant wears a pair of suspenders and cream-colored tie, shirt sleeves rolled up to keep him cool. "Welcome to Savannah, gentlemen! What kind of motorcar are you looking for?"
The night before leaving for Savannah, Udko spends a few minutes writing a letter to his friend Jonas (who was one of the first patients he had helped). He summarizes what he had learned that night, his impressions of the others and closes with a PS, I finally may have a chance satisfy my curiosity and find out what happened to Winston all those years ago.
Udko is quiet on the flight down, content to let the others carry the conversation as he continues to observe their behavior.
Udko will leave it to one of the rich guys to rent the car. While they deal with that, he asks to borrow the phone and once he has it calls the operator and gives her the two addresses asking if she can tell him if one of them is a hospital of some sort.
The night before leaving for Savannah, Udko spends a few minutes writing a letter to his friend Jonas (who was one of the first patients he had helped). He summarizes what he had learned that night, his impressions of the others and closes with a PS, I finally may have a chance satisfy my curiosity and find out what happened to Winston all those years ago.
Udko is quiet on the flight down, content to let the others carry the conversation as he continues to observe their behavior.
Udko will leave it to one of the rich guys to rent the car. While they deal with that, he asks to borrow the phone and once he has it calls the operator and gives her the two addresses asking if she can tell him if one of them is a hospital of some sort.
The rental car clerk gladly lets you use the phone and sells you a map of the city to help you get around. After a brief conference with the operator, Dr. Udko finds that the address at 513 West Henry Street belongs to Joy Grove Asylum, a mental hospital. The 23 Old Hope Road address belongs to the Henslowe family, currently a Mrs. Virginia Henslowe. Consulting the map, you find that Joy Grove is toward the city center, while the Henslowe home is south of the city on what's called the Moss Island Peninsula.
After some digging in the phone book, Dr. Udko finds a few boarding houses at the edge of the city, not too far from the old shipyards and warehouses where a great deal of cotton is shipped out of Savannah to the world at large. Many of the boarding houses seem to cater to blue collar bachelors here to work at the warehouses, traveling salesmen and the like. The clerk at the office says he's heard that a Mrs. Fennimore runs the cleanest of these in the north part of Savannah, but she doesn't tolerate drinking, smoking, card-playing or anything else that doesn't befit her image of good Christian behavior. Still, from what he says it's affordable and sounds pleasant enough.
Amadeus places a call to his solicitor, Clarence Herndon when he returns that night, letting him know of a potential benefactor and a prolonged absence. The call is cordial and business-like, but Amadeus detects a subtle note of disapproval in Herndon's voice.
Ra nods to the pilot, in a distracted sort of fashion, and dozes on the flight. Once there, he advises the Sedan as a more prudent choice, choosing to keep the others together as he can. He will urge the others to find a motel at the edge of town, perhaps one with history, as he feels it befits his persona.
Anatoly first telephones Professor Chung, and mentions to him that he has set up a couple of grad students to cover for him for the next week or so, but would he please check up on them a couple of times to make sure they're doing OK.
He then telephones his Uncle, and asks him to go by and feed his cat, and check up on the place for the next couple of days. He mentions that he is headed to Savannah on a research trip, and that he'll forward him an address and phone number if possible as soon as he has one.
"Excuse me Dr. Udko. I couldn't help but overhear that you had perhaps found a boarding house with an acceptable reputation. Perhaps we could share a cab to this location?
"Also I just noticed how very much alike our last names are. Do you perhaps have a Russian heritage"?
Then to the group.
"I believe we should meet up tomorrow somewhere near the Henry Street address, and start there, since it's the last known location".
When the Cabby arrives he asks if he knows of a diner close to the address where the group might meet.
On the flight Creswell makes notes about the conversation and drafts a small list of items he think might be helpful to have. Underlining a few key items Robert is happy to engage in small talk but says little of substance.
Despite his instinct to indulge Robert thinks it might be better not to separate himself from the others, I will join you fellows if its not a bother. I am familiar with the States but its probably best I'm not left to my own devices.
Udko tells the others that he will work to arrange admission to Joy Grove and will see if he can learn anything about the place from the local medical community. He then suggests they meet for dinner that evening to share what was accomplished and to make plans for the next day.
He spends a few minutes with Anatoly responding to his questions and sharing that while not Russian, his name is indeed Slavic as his paternal grandparents had emigrated to the U.S. from Humgary. He has no objections to staying at the same boarding house as any of the others but he doesn't encourage it either.
While Robert foots the bill for the rental car, Detective Marlowe signs the paperwork for the sedan and provides his identification in order to sidestep any bureaucratic trouble that might arise from Robert renting the car. Your clerk, who introduces himself simply as Bill, helps you load as much of your baggage will comfortably fit in the back of the sedan and then assists in securing whatever else won't fit onto the roof of the car.
"Well, gentlemen, I hope y'all have a good visit here to Savannah. She's hit some hard times, but she's a heck of a city. And if you're plannin' on a longer stay, I might hazard some advice: you might want to find some lighter attire. This heat is sure to bake you alive in those dark Northern suits!", he says, handing Detective Marlowe the keys before glancing at the cape and turban clad Amadeus. "Well, most of y'all anyways. Have a good afternoon, now."
Driving into Savannah from Hunter airfield, you pass a good number of warehouses near the river and a good number of factories. Homes, lunch counters and other services seem to be clustered around these places to cater to the workers. The boarding house is nearest the north side of the city, but you wind up taking a roundabout route as a stalled truck is holding up traffic. As you drive toward the city's heart, activity seems to thin out until there are barely any pedestrians or motorists nearby. Trees abound, lining the streets and the parks. While Savannah's layout is focused around many parks and squares, with handsome gaslights and wrought iron gates and fixtures, the center of the city is practically vacant compared to New York, London or Providence. Red brick antebellum buildings hide behind a veil of ivy and moss, their wrought-iron fixtures jutting out like ragged swords. Here and there, broken windows betray buildings that are empty inside.
Finally arriving at the boarding house, you find it to be a stately wooden affair with a gabled porch. Anatoly and Dr. Udko check in with the very proper Mrs. Fenimore, making a note of the phone number in the parlor on a piece of scratch paper for the rest of the investigation crew. A short drive toward the center of town the rest of the investigative team finds the Ellis Hotel, a more upscale lodging that has had to lower its prices some given the Depression and the rumors that it's haunted by disgraced Civil War soldiers. Mr. Creswell springs for a room of his own while finances suggest that Amadeus and Detective Marlowe share a suite with twin beds.
Udko tells the others that he will work to arrange admission to Joy Grove and will see if he can learn anything about the place from the local medical community. He then suggests they meet for dinner that evening to share what was accomplished and to make plans for the next day.
He spends a few minutes with Anatoly responding to his questions and sharing that while not Russian, his name is indeed Slavic as his paternal grandparents had emigrated to the U.S. from Humgary. He has no objections to staying at the same boarding house as any of the others but he doesn't encourage it either.
Availing himself of the phone at the boarding house, Dr. Udko calls Joy Grove and is transferred after a bit of a wait to a Dr. Lawrence Teake, the head of the hospital.
"You'd like to speak with one of our patients? Mr. Henslowe, you say?", he says from the other line. You can tell from his voice that he's definitely an older man. "What would be the need for this interview, exactly?"
Udko spends a couple of moments establishing his bonafides with Dr. Teake, items such as his schooling, where he did his medical residency and places he has practiced since. After that, as well as pro forma questions about Teake, Udko gets to the heart of the matter.
"I have long lamented the lack of useful monographs about the rare, but still important to understand, phenomena of shared delusions. I plan to prepare a paper on the topic for presentation at the next Academy de International Pyschoanalysis meeting in Vienna. The basis of the paper will be the case of my patient, the pharmaceutical magnate Walter Winston who suffered from shared delusions with Mr. Henslowe, and potentially others. Mr. Henslowe would be an invaluable asset to help understand how this delusion begun and the account of his successful treatment would be an inspiration to all of us who struggle with the vagaries of the mind."
"I will of course share credit on the paper with you as Henslowe's caregiver. I have hopes that Dr. Freud himself may attend the presentation, if his health allows it."