Arkham, Massachusetts
8:00 am, Friday, Oct. 8, 1925
Agent Cooper and Dr. David Clarke discuss his case.
"Yes, Agent Mulder briefed me on Ms. Waite's role in the investigation as a person of interest, though frankly her involvement looks peripheral," says Agent Cooper, eating a donut. "We in the law need evidence. These are good donuts."
"We appreciate your enthusiasm, but entering a private residence typically requires a search warrant. Agent Mulder thinks the BOI can help with the murder case against you - the autopsy will hopefully shed light on that, and time of death. But there is still the matter of breaking-and-entering, a charge that looks clear-cut."
"As to her alleged ability to manipulate people's minds, that's a claim that is hard to prove. Perhaps she is a mesmerist who can hypnotize. But again, she was a proven victim of rape by a BOI officer, with witnesses, and that case cannot be denied."
"The third-floor window is a difficult exit for anyone, given the lack of a ledge, the considerable drop, and the presence of a witness, your colleague Mr. Frank Morgan. He said during questioning that he saw no one exit the window up to the point which he entered the building. Which was after the death of Ms. Waite."
"If her diary entries are a ploy, that would mean she was planning her own death for 2-3 weeks? I doubt a jury would believe that. The police questioned her roommate Jenny, who said that Ms. Waite confided in her about your harassment a few weeks ago. Another damning piece of evidence in a jury's eyes. Jenny urged Asenaith to report you to the school authorities; she apparently didn't, which is a point in your favor."
"Now as to cultists or Sam Archer murdering her, that's a lot of ifs. If she was viewed as a weak link or threat, perhaps the cult would want to silence her. If Sam Archer surfaced, maybe. Our search for him has yet to turn up anything, though we now know he is or was somewhere in Maryland."
"However, let's hope that all of this may be moot. With Ms. Waite no longer with us, it remains with the State or surviving family to press charges. It appears her parents are deceased; other relatives have yet to be found. If the State pursues this, the BOI is likely to have more influence."
After the conversation, Agent Cooper escorts Dr. Clarke out of the police station to his home. Dr. Clarke is required to appear at a court hearing in two weeks, and as part of the bail is not suppose to leave the state of Massachusetts.
On the way out, they bump into Dr. Frank Morgan.
Walking Through Providence,
Reginald Wilkins apartment,
Nighttime, Oct. 7, 1925
Reginald Wilkins and Marius Albertoni tensely leave McSweeney's Catch. In hushed whispers they discuss their next move and agree to return to Reginald's apartment. The bookseller wonders if his shop has been vandalized in their absence. He points out that they can find this "Dark Lady" tomorrow with BOI agent back-up.
The investigators keep an eye open on their long walk back through the rain. The streets are misty. Is that someone following them? No, just a vagrant. At the edge of the waterfront district, Marius is spooked by a hand that emerges from an alley. He is relieved that it belongs to an inquiring prostitute, whom he declines. Later, not far from Reginald's apartment, there are footsteps approaching from a shadowy street off to the right. Emerging, a police officer making the rounds, asks if they are okay. Reginald feels paranoid.
They reach Reginald's bookshop and the apartment above. All seems in order. The two men look forward to updating Agent Mulder tomorrow. With a last glance at his bookshelves, Reginald turns in to bed. Marius has a bracer of whiskey and then hits the sack.
Reginald's unconscious mind turns over the occult knowledge he has absorbed in these last two months. He slips into dream...
Symmetry becomes it.
Come to ruin our impending feast,
a presence that nourishes suffering.
All things below voice his burning name.
His turmoil offers only truth in which longer moments live.
Let consciousness recapture the flicker it saw then.
Torch our continuity of thought
now until that mind evaporates.
Lust after shadows in us,
rend that lace of promises broken and white lies,
regard our love of wreckage,
the way our heads thunder approaching that warning pulse
and temple of throbbing light that is ....
... is that light throbbing of temple and pulse
warning that approaching thunder heads our way.
the wreckage of love,
our regard lies white and broken,
promises of lace that rend us
in shadow, after lust evaporates.
Mind that until now thought of continuity,
our torch, then saw it flicker.
The recapture, consciousness let live moments longer,
which, in truth, only offers turmoil.
His name burning, his voice below things.
All suffering nourishes that presence.
A feast impending. Our ruin to come.
It becomes symmetry.
