The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 3

Rusty Quill presents

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Border Foy was a rinky dinkberg, nestled at the end of a 45-minute drive from from Colt Sparrow.

It was the only speck of civilization within spitting distance.

I needed to find a fast food join or coffee shop where I could hop on a free Wi-Fi network and video chat with the boss, Henry Roberts Hughes.

Or, as he was better known to his millions of adoring fans, H.R.

Hughes.

The guy made a mint writing books about real-life mysteries.

A bunch of them were made into documentaries, and two of them even scored the big Hollywood movie treatment.

What set him apart from the other true mystery writers wasn't just his knack for sniffing out leads in cold cases, but that he actually caught the shadows he chased.

He'd solve puzzles others had left for impossible, piecing them together with a detective's intuition and a scholar's insight.

Yet he didn't do it by poking around in the field.

That's where we came in.

Hughes always hired research teams to supply him with the information he needed to break a case.

Since making it big, he'd taken to using famous gun shoes to do his dirty work.

The last team was made up of Barry and Margaret Higgins, the married treasure hunters who had struck fame by discovering the remains of the siren's scream, the ship of the infamous pirate, grizzled Garrett Black.

Hughes hired him to help locate the body of Tony the Tiger Castanciano, the Chicago crime boss who went missing shortly after Prohibition.

When me, Leon, and Phyllis had our own brush with fame, we made use of a short list.

Hi there, what can I get you?

Just some black coffee for starters.

Sure thing, one black coffee.

All right, Hughes.

Let's hope you're taking calls this morning.

Here you are, sir.

One black coffee.

Thanks, darling.

Why, hello there.

I was hoping I'd hear from you today.

Sorry for the radio silence, Mr.

Hughes, but we couldn't get a signal.

Had to drive to the next town over.

Suspense is the spice of life, Mr.

Rhodes.

I'm eager to learn if Miss Chambers' prediction proved accurate.

She rarely disappoints.

The stash was right where she said it was.

Journals, voice recordings, sketchbooks, the whole shebang.

I brought along some shots of the handwritten journal entries and some audio files I made from a bunch of cassette tapes.

I'll upload them to your folder right after we hang up.

Although it might take a while to get the rest all organized and sent out,

there's about a metric ton of media to sort through.

That's all excellent.

I knew I hired the best.

Also, I don't want you to waste precious time playing fax machine.

So why don't you send the rest along, or whatever portions you can comfortably make it through, in about a week or two, whenever you need a break from sleuthing.

That works for me.

I know it's likely too early to hope for anything meaningful, but did the materials you've had the chance to look over supply anything of a lead?

Nothing monumental, but a few names stuck out.

I included notes about both in the files I'll be sending over.

Perfect.

I'll go to work on them from this end and let you know what, if anything, I turn up.

I also snapped some pics of both the city and the Vers Mansion like you asked.

I gotta say, the city's held up pretty well for being abandoned as long as it has.

And the State Historical Society's done a bang-up job keeping the mansion ship-shaped.

We have no problems getting power to the house or find the decent accommodations.

Has Miss Chambers detected anything of note?

She said that whatever caused the people to disappear is still there.

She couldn't be any clearer than that.

Just a hunch you got, I guess.

Even so,

the hunches tend to be right on the money.

That's definitely encouraging.

Oh, speaking of money, let me know if you need any additional funds.

I want to make sure you have everything you need to get to the bottom of things.

We've still got a big chunk left on the expense card you gave us.

She'll be good for a while, but thanks.

Well then, I won't keep you any longer.

Call me if you need anything, day or night.

It's been a pleasure, Mr.

Rhodes.

And keep up the good work.

I didn't want to bother you while you were busy, but is there anything else I can get you?

I could definitely use some breakfast.

That egg, cheese, and sausage ripe looks like it'll do the job.

You got it.

Um,

I hope you don't mind me asking, but aren't you one of the FBI agents who busted that cult up in northern New York?

The uh side of family,

yeah.

Is it true that a psychic helped you guys find where?

Look,

sweetheart, if it's all the same to you, it's really not a topic I like to talk about.

But you're in luck, uh, there might be a movie in the works, so uh, you'll get all the details there and then some.

Oh, I'm so sorry, sir.

I was just curious.

We we don't get many celebrities here.

Celebrity?

I've been called a lot of things in my day, but uh, that's not one of them.

I'll tell you what.

I'll sign the menu and promise to leave a great big tip.

How's that?

And a picture?

Pretty, please.

You got a deal.

But after I eat, I'm starving.

Absolutely.

I'll be right back with your breakfast.

Ah, bingo.

I knew they'd be on here.

What's that you say?

Charlie Prist Esquire and Dr.

Amelia Raglan.

They're both in the file marked persons of interest.

Well, your intuition is nearly as sharp as my own.

Are there any additional details?

Here we are.

Looks like they performed a brief over-the-phone interview with Prist who just confirmed a few details about the will.

Was it an order?

Was there anything out of the ordinary about any of it?

It looks like Veers took him on as his personal attorney.

Said he handled a few matters for him over the years, but nothing major.

What about the doctor?

It just says interview pending.

Wouldn't the FBI be more interested in the doctor?

After all, she'd be privier to the man's mind.

I would think so.

I don't know, maybe Mace was right.

What with so many missing and a city's worth of forensic data to comb through?

Does this list specifically apply to Ben, or does it encompass all of Corn Sparrow?

Seems rather sparse if it's the whole city.

From the looks of it, these were all the names they could come up with.

Now I get what they thought it was a cult thing.

As we all know too well, people with no real connections are perfect for cults.

All I can say is, they'd have to be extremely clever cultists to disappear so completely.

Yeah, anyway, I trust your hunches more than the bureaus.

If you say the cause is still there, then the cause is still there.

There's hope for you yet, young man.

By the way, what did you make of Mr.

Veers's recording?

Unless I missed something, didn't it sound remarkably similar to your experience last night?

Eh, just a coincidence.

I'm guessing the both of us probably heard the same jittery intercom system.

In a place like this, from what I'm picking up, I'd say coincidence is a stretch.

Yeah, level with me, Phil.

What exactly are you picking up?

It's hard to explain, really.

It's not like anything I've run across before.

Not like a ghost or a haunting or anything like that.

More like a deep aching.

A cancer of the bones.

Is there any specific place you feel it?

I mean, you usually home in on a specific location.

That, my boy, would be one of the things that makes this place unique.

I felt it as soon as I turned onto Pitch Point Road.

Though it does seem seem stronger in here.

But I've never felt a presence, for lack of a better word, that covered an entire city.

Now, I did my due diligence before coming here, researching the hell out of the place, but I didn't find much of anything.

Well, nothing beyond the basic sorts of things you'd find about any city.

Nothing that would explain this...

feeling.

However, I did find heaps of unconfirmed accounts of high strangeness from various paranormal groups that snuck in.

Psychics, occultists, people conducting seances and using Ouija boards.

But no two tales were the same, and there was no telling if any of them were at all legitimate.

Did you have the same kind of feeling when you saw where Veers stashed all his recordings?

That's another oddity in and of itself.

How's that?

It didn't feel the same.

It was like I'd been handed the information.

But I thought that was how the whole thing worked.

You know, ghosts sort of give you the information you want.

Yes, but I can detect the spirit, feel its presence, its intent.

When we sat around the table that night and I reached out, the information was just...

there.

Floating in the ether for me to snatch.

It's never happened like that before.

Well, in my business,

former business, we call that an anonymous tip.

And a lot of the time, the tipper has a dog in the race.

So you've always gotta be a little suspicious of the scoop.

Sometimes a lot suspicious.

Sound advice, if a little late.

But there's always next.

Did you hear that?

Sure did.

It was a mace.

Truck's not back.

It sounded like footsteps.

It's probably nothing but a critter and the foundation settling, but it's best to be sure.

Wait here and I'll take a look, just to be on the safe side.

The hell I am.

I'm coming with you.

Alright, but just stay behind me.

Well, nothing in here.

Oh, Jesus.

It came from that hallway, right there.

Okay.

Now you really have to stay put.

Try to raise Mace on the cell and then catch me on the walkie, okay?

Got it.

You be careful, you hear me?

You do.

And stay glued to the walkie.

There's no goddamn reception, so I can't get Mason on the cell.

What's going on?

Keep it down, Phil.

Hall's clear.

Coming up to the barroom.

Nothing.

There's a door ajar in the back.

Gonna check it out.

Shit.

What is it?

Blood.

Blood?

Phil, relax.

I want you to get the other Glock from my bag.

You remember how to use it?

I do.

Good.

After you got it, I want you to put your back up against the corner of the room where everything's in sight.

Take the safety off.

If someone shows up and it's not me or Mace, shoot.

Understand?

I.

I do.

Everything's gonna be okay.

I'm less than a few minutes away.

Now just try to breathe and relax.

I.

I can't go through this again, Leon.

No, not again.

It's not them, Phyllis.

We got them.

They're gone.

Now I just need you to stay quiet while I check out the next room.

I'll be right back on.

I won't be more than a minute.

Okay.

Okay.

Don't be long.

Rooms filled with animal carcasses.

Rabbits and birds, looks like.

I'm thinking some coyotes got in here, maybe a bobcat or something.

It's just, uh, just animal blood.

Oh,

thank god.

I was about ready to have a heart attack.

There's an outside door that leads right out onto the porch.

Looks like whatever the thing is, it's been coming and going through here.

That's probably what we heard: the thing knocking the door against the jam on its way out.

I'll take animals over human intruders any day

Looks to me like Mace should have done a full sweep of the house when we got here.

We just figured we'd get to it today

Wait just a minute

What's wrong?

I can see something out there in the field behind the house Looks like a bigger animal of some kind.

There's tall grasses and shrubs obscuring it.

I'm gonna go check it out.

Be careful.

Even on all fours, it just seems way too big.

Then again, it's hard to gauge at this distance.

What's it doing?

It's just standing out there.

Could it be a bear?

It's possible.

They're usually closer to the Adirondacks.

Plus, the color is off.

And it doesn't seem to have the same build.

But nothing else could be that size.

Oh, it's moving again.

Gonna try and get a better look at it

Jesus, the grass is high out here, almost up to my face.

He's headed for the woods.

Okay, look, get out of sight.

Need to get a good look at it.

What the fuck is it?

Leon, are you okay?

What's happening?

I'm okay.

Just took a tumble to zoll.

Fucking things at the edge of the woods.

Can't let it slip away till I can tell what the fuck it is.

Leon, I'm not getting a good feeling about this.

I think you should just let it be.

No fucking way.

I gotta see what it is.

Something's wrong.

I can feel it as please.

Turn around.

You must turn around.

Do you hear me?

Leon.

Leon.

Jesus.

Oh, it can't be, can't it?

I'm in the woods.

I just moved up a small hill.

I'm getting close.

I can't believe it.

Oh, but I think I know what this is.

I got a good look at it for just a second.

I think.

I think it's a hyena.

A fucking huge hyena.

Leon, Lilagi,

I'm fine, Phil.

It's probably gone.

I just want to take a look on the other side of the hill just to be sure.

You must come back.

Something's wrong.

Come back.

Something's wrong.

Tell us all, Mom.

You hear me?

Let me go.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Maltopia production.

Today's episode was written by Mark Anzalone and performed by Stephen Zivik, Sam Stark, Aubrey Akers, and Mark Anzalone.

Sound editing was completed by Stephen Anselone, and script editing was conducted by Walker Kornfeld.

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