ARKHAM ADVERTISER

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Storm Ravages Martin's Beach, Kingsport

Sunday, March 8, 1925

The spring storm of March 8 and 9 is feared to have led to the disappearance of M/S Mary P. Benjamin, a fishing vessel from Kingsport, as well as her crew of four. The captain, Jerome K. Philbin, decided to ignore warnings against leaving port during the storm, and it is assumed that the sea swallowed both the vessel and her crew. Elsewhere, several buildings in Kingsport were damaged, while Martin's Beach saw significant damage to the main pier, which also was covered by pieces of foul-smelling fish. Mr. Vernon Morrison and Ms. Johanna Glover of Martin's Beach were swept out to sea, but rescued despite the terrific storm by Mr. Jules Pollack and Ms. Moira Baker of Arkham in an astounding feat of swimming and compassion. 

Gregory Goyle Carried to Final Rest

The remains of young Gregory Goyle were buried this morning in Christchurch Cemetary. His parents. Mr. and Mrs. Warburton Goyle, held a brief speech at the funeral, insisting that the "Arkham Madman" Henry Chester and any possible accomplices would be found and brought to justice. Mrs. Goyle ended the ceremony with a deeply sorrowful eulogy, stating that Gregory was " a true model for young men everywhere, and one with a bright future, one that is now extinguished". Gregory Goyle is mourned by his family and friends, and especially his older brother Stafford, and his older sister,  Carmilla. 

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Power Plant Construction Commences

Tuesday, March 10, 1925

Councilman Bedford Duvall has announced that the construction of a new powerplant on the Miskatonic River will commence this week, after Federal funding had been approved. A site southeast of Topsfield has been surveyed, and the location will fit the demands of both the Town Council and General Electric, the winning contractor. Chief engineer Jacob T. Spinoza expects the power plant to be ready by July this year.

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Full Throttle for New England!

Wednesday, March 18, 1925

Miskatonic Millionaire Magnate Lotus Ashford II has sponsored a Boston-Albany-Burlington-Boston motor race that will take place on Saturday, July 4. The event will showcase the prowess of the American auto industry as well as the abilities of our nation's drivers in competition with other drivers from around the world. The winner will receive what is described as a "significant cash prize". 

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B&L Miners on Strike

Friday, March 20, 1925

The workers of the Barrow and Locke Mining Company have been on strike since Wednesday, when the morning shift failed to report to the mining operation in the Halliburton Hills southwest of Newburyport. Rumors claim that the strike has been caused by unsafe working conditions in and around the mine.

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Dunstan Dunford running for Mayor 

Sunday, March 29

Mr. Dunstan Dunford announced yesterday that will be running for mayor of Arkham in the November elections. He will be running against the incumbent mayor, The Honorable Jonathan D. Bryce, who has served as mayor for three terms. According to influential Council Member Bedford Duvall, Dunford represents real change, and the prospects of finally bringing Arkham into a prosperous 20th century for all of its citizens.

Martin's Beach Madness

- From the diary of Irvin Bowers:

Unintelligible. 

- From the diary of Howard Lake:

The Sunday stroll through Martin's Beach showed us a very quaint little seaside town, but the weather made the fireplace at the Union Inn beckon. We socialized with the graduate students Emerson Lyle and Agda Gibson, who were polite, engaged, and just a bit overbearing. It turned out that while Agda Gibson was a an artist and painter in her spare time, while Emerson Lyle had a passion for genealogy. The afternoon was pleasant and cozy, but we overheard that some of the locals were suffering from ailments. We retired, but then the dreams hit us all again. This time they seem to have affected Agda Gibson to the degree that she walked out into the cold Atlantic Ocean, only to wake up and return, quite disheveled, to the Wavecrest Hotel. Her furious pounding on the front door woke us all up, and it was some time before we went back to restless sleep.

Emerson Lyle and Agda Gibson.

That Monday we made it out to Wyman's Hill to survey the proposed site for the archaeological dig. It was still cold and miserable, and I found myself walking around with a surveyor's pole and seemingly aimlessly placing the implement on various terrain features. We went back to the hotel, and this time I struck up conversation with Joe Zumwald and Brendan Hill, the locals who were concerned about ailments and bad dreams. It turned out that they had their own little occult society, The Most Enlightened Fellowship of the Star of the Sea, and the name was eerily familiar. But alas, they seemed quite harmless, and they had a small meeting room and library on Elm Street. We were invited, and tod that their friends Johanna Glover and Vernon Morrison were having fevers as well as weird and disturbing dreams. Moira Baker did make a house call, and nothing seemed wrong with them, except for severe sleep deprivation and a slight temperature. Something unnatural was clearly afoot, but what?

The meeting room of The Most Enlightened Fellowship of the Star of the Sea.

Joe Zumwalt, Brendan Hill and Vernon Morrison.

Johanna Glover

We spent the next day at Wyman's Hill, and the finds did indicate some odd similarities to Phoenician ceremonial sites, but all of this may also have a mere coincidence. Still, we all thought of the Dagon cult in Los Angeles, and the horrors that have haunted us since. When we came back, Emerson Lyle revealed some of his research regarding Arthur Bennet Saunders and his family, and queer things did emerge: Arthur was supposedly from old Kingsport stock. His father was Colonel Johnston Saunders (+1919), his mother Leah Digby (Waite) (+1901) of Kingsport and Martin’s Beach, or so we thought. She was actually from the backwards fishing town of Innsmouth, several hours north of Arkham, the half-sister of Asenath Waite’s father Ephraim. Leah left Innsmouth at a very young age, around 1875. Leah Waite did change her name to Digby, after her supposed mother, Yolanda, who was from Boston, but who died under unclear circumstances when Leah was two. 

Then came that fateful early March Thursday. A day that almost cost me my very own life. A dreadful storm descended upon Martin's Beach, and it seemed as if someone, or something, beckoned to Moira to join him under the sea. She woke up abruptly and ran down to her husband, waiting in all his loving glory at the end of the pier, or so she thought...

We all rushed out to help Moira, but we were confronted by two of those dreadful fish creatures that we had encountered under Los Angeles as well as Vernon and Johanna, apparently in a somnambulatory stage . They were commanded by a horrifying fishman hybrid that once was Arthur Bennett Saunders. This lurid aquatic beast was about to embrace Moira in a most unnatural way in the raging storm, his long fish-skin tongue reaching out towards her pale neck. Was Arthur finally going to drag Moira into the sea to spawn more fish people? We were going to stop this, but wearing only our pajamas and overcoats, the odds seemed against us. Irwin Bowers dashed back to the hotel to pick up his shotgun, but the rest of us threw ourselves at the ungodly abominations, razor-sharp claws, jagged teeth and all. We were hacked, slashed and bitten by the abominations, and before long we were covered in our blood and their slimy, oily ichor. Moira was almost dragged into the dark, stormy waters, if it wasn't for redoubtable Mackie McNamara who pressed down a life preserver over the Arthur creature, pinning his arms to his side and allowing Mackie to get to work with the Pocket Knife of Doom. Although the creature's neck was penetrated to release a rivulet of foul-smelling fluids, the Arthur creature ended up dangling from the pier in the life preserver's rope, his wiry muscles contorting as he pulled himself out of the life preserver and up onto the pier.

Meanwhile, Vernon and Johanna were dragging the now fully conscious Moira towards the very end of the pier, but Jules Pollack was in hot pursuit, having tackled his way past a fish man. Despite his valiant efforts, the foursome ended up in the raging Atlantic, but this woke up Vernon and Johanna, and with the help of Moira they were all helped up onto the pier again.

Arthur the Fish Creature

By now, I was down for the count together with Mackie, and things would have looking bleak indeed if it wasn't for the timely arrival of Irwin Bowers, a fire axe, and a shotgun. He dispatched of one fish man  who was munching on Lake, and then fired at the other, but the shotgun ended up on the pier for a variety of complicated reasons. Arthur the fish creature was just about to dispatch of Bowers when Pollack grabbed the wet and slippery shotgun, cocking it and firing the last shell into He Who Once Was Arthur, who was dissolved in a greenish-red explosion of goo, just leaving a lower torso that stood up for mere seconds before toppling over. Moira Baker's superb first aid skills were much in demand after this most dreadful scrap, and next day saw the intrepid investigators returning to Arkham for much needed rest.

* * *

A conversation between Baker, McNamara, Lake, Bowers and Pollack, all residents of Arkham, and some even long-time residents. The conversation took place on March 10, just two days after the near-fatal encounter in Martin's Beach, and after a solid dinner cooked by Mrs. O'Flaherty. The party has moved into the drawing rooms, and Jules Pollack is just opening a new box of cigars, fresh from Nicaragua, while the guests are enjoying an after dinner cocktail:

- So, tell me more about fantastic Innsmouth-on-the-sea, Moira! You seem to be getting into deep waters every now and then. McNamara was chuckling at her own snarky comment, albeit with the best of intentions.

- You know, I really know very little about the place. I think there's a bus line to the place, Moira replied.

- Yes, that is quite true. Hand me a cigar, will you, Jules? Howard Lake reached out for one of the Nicaraguans as Irwin Bowers handed Howard a strip of cedar wood and a matchbox. 

- Innsmouth used to be a fairly prosperous place. Now, it’s a queer kind of a town down at the mouth of the Manuxet. It used to be almost a city—quite a port before the War of 1812—but all gone to pieces in the last hundred years or so. No railroad now—B. & M. never went through, and the branch line from Rowley was given up years ago. 

Mackie decided to add to the description, now fully equipped with a glass of champagne and an obscenely sizeable cigar.

- There are more empty houses than there are people, I guess, and no business to speak of except fishing and lobstering. Everybody trades mostly here or in Arkham or Ipswich. Once they had quite a few mills, but nothing’s left now except one gold refinery running on the leanest kind of part time. That refinery, though, used to be a big thing, and the Marsh family - the owners - seem to be quite wealthy. Mr. Marsh, the head of the family, is supposed to have developed some skin disease or deformity late in life that makes him keep out of sight. He is said to be the grandson of Captain Obed Marsh, who founded the business.

- So what about the Waites? I haven't heard any mention of that family? Irwin Bowers was next to dig into the ample cigar box.

- Old Ephraim Waite is a bit of the Arkham village looney, if you ask me. Jules started slowly pacing around the drawing room while drawing luxuriously long puffs from his cigar. 

- He's been in my store looking for weird items, but he seems to always be lacking in funds. Ephraim is a horrible haggler as well, so he rarely buys anything. Haven't seen him in a bit, though, and that may be as well. The old man seemed to be in perpetual need of a bath. Lake nodded in agreement. Waite had visted his store as well.

It was now Moira's turn to add to the conversation.

- Mr. Waite has been seen at Miskatonic U., and I remember him being a bit, well, annoying, or even downright creepy. He tried to get a library card once, but Ms. O'Brien just laughed at him. 

- He has a daughter, Asenath. Mackie put down her cigar before continuing. 

- I have heard that she's quite ambitious and a rather good undergrad, according to professor Freeborn. Also, she's bit of a lush. Mackie picked up her obscenely sizeable cigar again, wrapping her fingers around the end of it.

Lincoln, New Mexico.

Lotus Ashford, of Arkham, Mass., is rather well off, mainly through his father’s business acumen. Lotus Ashford Sr. has made a respectable future in various commodities, mainly steel, and he still runs the Ashford Steel Company out of Pittsburgh. Lotus Sr. also has a sister, Gladys, and a younger brother, Alfred. Gladys is married off in a strange marriage somewhere in Louisiana, but Alfred is a different case altogether: an eternal optimist, but just not very structured in his actions and considerations. He is a kind soul, though, and albeit awkward, still part of the Ashford family. Alfred is also quite the womanizer, and he’s been married three times while fathering at least six known offspring. He is fairly close to Lotus Jr., at least when he’s in town, and he used to bring young Lotus little gifts and knick-knacks from his extensive travels. Lotus Ashford Jr. is attending a family holiday luncheon in Arkham at the Pawtuxet Hotel on Saturday, December 13. Being friendly with the Ashfords, Frank Cannon is also invited, and he is enjoying a fine cigar and a cup of reinforced tea after a particularly nice luncheon. As the guests prepare to leave the event, Alfred Ashford, as always dressed as if he’d worn his suit to bed last night, approaches Lotus and Frank. Alfred is blunt and to the point, and he asks Lotus for help. As it turns out, his youngest son, James, or as he’s affectionately known, Jimmy, decided to become a miner in New Mexico. Jimmy Ashford is the youngest of the known brood, and he is the only one to pick up some of Alfred’s more adventurous and eccentric habits. Apparently, Jimmy had been told of a new vein of precious metals that had been discovered in the Capitan Mountains of New Mexico, close to the ghost town of White Oaks. Jimmy took a train to Lincoln, New Mexico, on October 29, just before Halloween. Alfred Ashford received a couple of telegrams and several letters initially, and things seemed to be going well for Jimmy. However, there hasn’t been a sign of Jimmy since early December, and Alfred is concerned. He has secured some funds from Lotus Ashford Sr., and he politely asks Lotus Jr. if he please could look into this matter? Alfred was hoping to celebrate Christmas together with the Ashford family, including all of his six known children.

Cannon and Ashford were given a key to Jimmy's apartment, and they found some news clippings, three IOUs, time tables for trains and buses, and a loan application.

ARKHAM ADVERTISER

September 1, 1924

MINERAL FINDS IN NEW MEXICO BAFFLE BOFFINS

Geologists at the The New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology claim to have discovered several types of new minerals and possibly even rare earth elements in Lincoln County, New Mexico. The exact location remains undisclosed, as there are concerns of unapproved prospecting as well as issues with the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

ARKHAM ADVERTISER

September 12, 1924

 

DUNWICH MINER KILLED IN NEW MEXICO

Jebediah Hart of Dunwich, Massachusetts, age 59, was killed in a gunfight reminiscent of the old ways of the frontier on September 3. Witnesses have failed to identify the gunmen, and Federal Marshals have been dispatched to the town of Lincoln, New Mexico, which is supposedly close to where the gunfight took place.

   

                    Alfred Ashford                                                                  Jimmy Ashford

Jimmy Ashford thought a bit about the issue, and decided that this will be an excellent opportunity to make a buck. He studied mining for a week or two, and checked out books at the Miskatonic University library. He thereafter bought equipment – much on IOUs – and then took the train to Santa Fe, and subsequently an autobus to Lincoln. He arrived on November 2, and stayed at the Wortley Hotel for three nights before renting an unassuming room off Union Street. He took day trips by horse and the occasional overnight trip to get the lay of the land. Jimmy Ashford socialized at the bars, and he is remembered as a happy-go-lucky greenhorn, nice but a bit clueless. He spent much time with Edgar “Dutch” Schmitt, a logger who knows something about most things. 

                                                                                                 Could it be..? Lotus Ashford and Frank Cannon!

This prompted Cannon and Ashford to gather various kinds of wilderness and outback gear before taking the morning train to Boston, and from there to Albuquerque, via Kansas City. The duo took the train on Monday, December 15, and after a long, but not unpleasant journey, they arrived at Albuquerque on Saturday, December 20. They acquired a small bus, and after staying overnight, they proceeded to Lincoln on the dusty roads of New Mexico.

"We shall call her Patsy, Queen of the Desert".

The duo did find rooms at the Union Hotel and Restaurant, the fancier of the two hotels in town (the other one being the Wortley), and after chatting to the bartender and ordering hot meals, Dutch Schmitt entered the bar. He was indeed quite talkative, but he also had to inform Cannon and Ashford that Jimmy Ashford was quite dead, and under somewhat unclear circumstances, to that. Jimmy’s remains were found outside Carrizozo by a railway worker, 52-year old Elmer Pluckett on December 10. He was deeply shocked by the state of the corpse, but attributed the mutilation to coyotes or other wildlife. This was supported by Henry Carlyle, the coroner in Lincoln. Jimmy was buried on December 13 by Norris Harding, the undertaker, together with father Joshua Bose, a Jesuit missionary. 

Edgar "Dutch" Schmitt

The news saddened Lotus in particular, since he had many fond memories of cousin Jimmy. But these queer circumstances required a more thorough investigation, and Ashford and Cannon were the right men for this! But first, the night was interrupted by dogs barking, and Lotus Ashford had a most uneasy nights' sleep, being interrupted by unpleasant scratching noises at the window. Frank Cannon slept soundly, but woke up with several large and noisy flies buzzing in his room, and he was disgusted to see a partially flayed dog carcass just below his second-story window, just like the contents of a Manhattan alley on a Monday morning.

Unperturbed, the duo sought out the coroner, Henry Carlyle, who seemed to be a bit flexible regarding the funerary protocols. Carlyle and his unpleasant and unnaturally skinny assistant Mortimer recommended talking to Elmer Pluckett of Carrizozo, who'd after all found the remains.

Elmer Pluckett, an insane railroad worker.

Pluckett, a Mormon teetotaler, was also quite insane. It was difficult to say if this was the result of seeing what must have been a gruesomely savaged body, being described as being "draped around switch gear" or if this was a preexisting condition, but the man was clearly out of his wits. Further investigation was required. 

Late on that Monday afternoon, December 22, the duo knocked on the refractory of St. Mary's Church to speak to Father Joshua Bose. The Jesuit had the healthy looks of someone who partakes in nature for the sake of enjoyment, not labor, and he greeted Ashford and Cannon with fresh fruit and a pot of equally freshly brewed coffee. Father Bose had a soft German accent, and he was clearly glad to share some information with the duo. Jimmy's coffin had indeed been closed, but Father Bose would also tell Ashford and Cannon of strange and worrisome unrest amongst the Antahueca Apache living north of Lincoln. He also told the duo of Boss Martin's ranch hands, who were employed by Mr. Otto Argo, the owner of the Mitscher Ranch and Farm a couple of miles north of Lincoln. Boss Martin's ranch hands had apparently been up to all kinds of shenanigans, including harassing local farmers and the Apache. They may also have been involved in the gun fight with old Jebediah Hart earlier during the year. Mr. Argo had apparently inherited a decrepit farm from his dead daughter and rebuilt it to modern standards during the spring and summer of 1924. Before leaving, Father Bose warned Cannon and Ashford that these were strange times, and that Boss Martin and his and could be both violent and unpredictable. Things seemed complicated.

Lincoln, New Mexico, just after rush hour.

Father Joshua Bose, SI.

Henry Carlyle, the coroner

Lincoln during rush hour.

Dreams of the Sea

From the diary of Jules Pollack:

Irvin Bowers...what a guy! He is indeed swell!

It was a relief to leave Arkham for a bit. The last couple of weeks had been, well, stressful, and if it wasn't for the glib tongues of Henry and Mackie as well as Swell Irvin, we might have been wearing stripes by now - or worse! Asking for the Arumbaya statuette was a fine hook, though.

Martin's Beach is a nice distraction. Most of the houses are very well kept, and from the previous century. It is in much better shape than Kingsport across the Miskatonic, and it is very much a popular location for the well-to-do New Englanders during the summer. The Wavecrest Hotel is a fancy space, and it has a bar, the Union Inn, next to it. The Union Inn is from the early 19th century, and it seems very cozy, with a big fireplace and plenty of special lemonade. It also has the strange photograph of that sea monster that supposedly ended up on the beach back in '22. There's also a drawing of the abomination made by a local artist. There are a few locals hanging out at the Union Inn, and they looked at us intently, but not glaringly, as we unpacked our omnibus.

Drawing by local artist

It's really strange ending up by the shore after all of our strange, distressing and hyper-realistic dreams about seas and water, and other things. Moira does seem to have a different set of dreams, many of them focusing on her late husband, Arthur Bennet Saunders, and at times Moira really seems to long for the man, although he's been dead for years. The dreams seem to continue, but we will see if they have followed us to Martin's Beach. It was equally strange to consider that a forefather of Arthur Bennet Saunders had owned the house where young Harrison Thornton-Smythe had found some odd papers several years ago, but there is such a thing as coincidence, or so we are led to believe.

The quaint streets of Martin's Beach are otherwise empty, or mostly so. We'll do some Sunday exploring before heading out to the dig on Monday morning. The actual dig is located in Wyman's Hill, abit more than a mile north of Martin's Beach. Professor De Winter is very enthusiastic, not at all his grumpy self, and it will be interesting to go over the site, and you never know if something interesting shows up. Another strange coincidence: the little figurine with what seems to be some alien contortionist is made of the same greenish soapstone-like mineral as the statuette that was found in another dimension, or New Hampshire and Livermore Mountain, by Moira, Howard, and the much-lamented Henry Chester.

Apropos the dig: despite Professor De Winter's enthusiasm, he doesn't seem to have much of a clue regarding what we might find. Frankly, the little figurine might even be a natural, albeit quirky, stone that has been shaped by the Miskatonic River over the course of millennia. 

Well, it is now time to take a stroll around Martin's Beach. The weather is mainly gloomy and windy, but it will be good to take a walk, although the fireplace at the Union Inn seems rather inviting.

____________________________________

ARKHAM ADVERTISER

February 15, 1925.

PSYCHO KILLER SLAYS STUDENT

The Arkham Police Department claims to have solved the case of a missing student, Gregory Goyle (age 17). It is claimed that the student became the victim of a raging madman, possibly named Henry Chester of 112 Federal Street. The Arkham Madman has confessed to his deeds in a detailed diary, and he is thought to have committed suicide after realizing the extent of his bloody deeds. Despite declaring the case solved, the Arkham Police Department is rumored to continue the search for the bodies of both the Arkham Madman and Gregory Goyle. Goyle's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Warburton Goyle, are currently seeking additional assistance in ascertaining the whereabouts of their missing son.

  

Tragedy at the Hoover School

A conversation between Happy Harry, the owner of Harold’s Tea Salon and General Store, and Henry Chester in the back room of Harold’s late at night on Tuesday, February 10, 1925.

- Harry, hit me with one of the usual, will ya?

- Sure thing. Still no ice, right?

- Nah, straight.

(clucking sound followed by silence)

- Jeezus, Henry, you look like shit.

- I do, don’t I? Long day at work.

- Work? Right….

- Yeah, work.

- Ok, then.

(silence)

- Hey, Henry, I got some news for you.

- Like what?

- Someone else is checking out your buddies, I am told.

- Oh?

- Yeah, like foreigners.

- For fuck’s sake, don’t tell me that these guys were German…

- No, no, not at all. They were apparently, well, reminding your friend Jules about certain paw-liti-cal organizations he’d been a member of and asking for a lot of money to keep it a secret. Don’t wanna have them Feds in Arkham, and such stuff. You know.

- Whaddayamean? They weren’t Huns?

- Nope. Russkies. Believe me, my old mother-in-law, rest her soul, was a Russki. I know the accent.

- You’re shitting me.

- Nope. No shit.

- Shit

(silence) 

                                                                               *

A brief phone conversation on Thursday morning between Dr. Henry Armitage and Dr. MacKenzie McNamara. Tea and cookies from Richard's Bakery were unfortunately not available.

- Dear Dr. McNamara, I am just giving you a ring to hear whether or not you have found out anything more about the volume we discussed last morning?
- Well, you know, Dr. Armitage... it has been a long day. Yesterday, Wednesday was a long day. Today is short. At least so far.
- But Dr. McNamara, the books! Have you heard anything about the book?
- Yes, sorry about that. Yes. No, I haven't heard anything about that book. Or any other book, for that matter. Nothing at all.
- Dr. McNamara, are you feeling alright? You sound a bit, well, shaky...
- No, really it is nothing, nothing of any importance. I am sharp as a knife. NO, not a knife. More like a butter spreader. One made out of wood.
- I will call upon you tomorrow, then. Good-bye, Dr. McNamara.
- Ta-ta.

                                                                               *

From the diary of Burlington Jones:

So weird. So strange. So tragic. We are responsible for the killing of a child, even if it was under the influence of a psychotic episode - or something worse. The plan was simple, since we knew what the hooligans at the Hoover School were after: a "magic book", a skull, a knife, a silver bell, and a candelabra, all to prepare for the sacrifice of little Karen. We assumed that the next heist would be against a church to secure a candelabra or a candlestick used for church services, and while I observed the Hoover school together with lake, Pollack and Chester were staking out the South Church, and Baker together with McNamara St. Georg Church. Funny, I wonder why they dropped the final "e", by the way.

Around 09.30 we noticed to sturdy-looking boys leaving the school and walking into the Miskatonic Park. Light signals were discreetly flashed to our companions, and Lake started following the suspected miscreants. He lost track of them, but Chester and Pollack subsequently noticed two shadows seemingly trying to break into the South Church. They were indeed the two sturdy fellows that had been seen leaving the Hoover school, and they started running as Pollack fired his salt-loaded blunderbuss at them. Although Chester and Pollack lost track of the two school boys, Baker, McNamara, Lake and myself soon caught up with them. We decided to separate the two arrogant and cocky boys, who referred to themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. Lake, Pollack and McNamara took Crabbe down to the Miskatonic River, and making not-so-subtle hints about a watery grave and providing some, well, character adjustment, he broke down. Blubbering like a baby he was taken back to the Hoover School. Headmaster Winchester was confronted, as was young Harrison Thornton Smythe. The headmaster seemed to side with Thornton Smythe, but some form of sharp utterance made Harrison flee the scene in a trail of horror and bodily fluids, and we could go through his room. To summarize, we found Karen, the Beatus Methodivo, the  Daemonologia, and the stolen items. Although the scoundrel Thornton Smythe had threatened us with all kinds of ruin, we left it at that. Case closed, or so we thought.

Meanwhile, Baker, Chester and myself took Goyle up to Baker's apartment. What transpired after this will forever be imprinted in me. A nosy landlady was assured that there was nothing afoot, and once up in Baker's cozy apartment, Goyle was tied to a chair, and Chester removed the carpets and started drawing up a pentagram on the floor to intimidate Goyle by hinting on the boy being part of some form of blasphemous sacrifice. The atmosphere was growing rather intense, and we should have kept better track of Moira Baker, especially since she was going on and on about the need for a ritual - and a sacrifice! We were all dumbfounded as Moira Baker yelled something about the greater arcane and Yog-Sothoth before violently slitting the throat of young Goyle. Blood spurted everywhere, and although Chester attempted to restrain Moira Baker by all means necessary, it was too late. Goyle was quite dead while Moira was slipping in and out of sanity. Eventually some powerful self-medication stabilized Baker, but the gruesome fact that we had killed a child remained. I really have few recollections of what happened next. Pollack and Chester seemed to deal with the situation better than most people, and the body of Gregory Goyle was disposed of at a location that I shall not name. I am still trying to fully fathom what transpired on that gruesome Thursday morning, but I fear fear that I will fail in a most miserable way. 

Crabbe and Goyle.

Dr. Henry Armitage

Harrison Thornton Smythe

                                                                               *

ARKHAM ADVERTISER

Friday, February 13, 1925

Boy Missing from Boarding School
According to the Arkham Police Department, student Gregory Goyle (age 17)  disappeared at some point during the night of Wednesday from the  Oliver P.  Hoover School for Young Gentlemen. Any information regarding  this case will be of great use for the Arkham PD. 

                                                                               *

Dr. Henrietta Queeg is one of the few modern psychiatrists in Arkham, and arguably the most qualified. Her youthful looks hide a lifetime of devoted study of the human experience, the human psyche, and the human brain. She is currently 36 years old, and she has been working in Arkham since 1923 while continuing to do research at the Miskatonic University Department of Psychology. Her work with Henry Chester has been quite successful, and she is currently seeing Moira Baker. The prognosis is auspicious.

Dr. Henrietta Queeg at a New Year's function, 1924

 ARKHAM ADVERTISER

Wednesday, February 11, 1925

Italian Riots Defy Iron Fist of Mussolini
Arkham, February 3

Fresh violence broke out around Italy as Benito Mussolini's crackdown on opposition newspapers continued. Fascists seized or attacked newspaper presses while at least three were killed in rioting. Mussolini met with King Victor Emmanuel III on January 2 and requested dictatorial powers to quell the chaos. The king refused, but gave Mussolini tacit permission to act however he considered necessary within at least the appearance of constitutional legality. Benito Mussolini made a pivotal speech in the Italian Chamber of Deputies on January 3. He took personal responsibility for the actions of his Blackshirts, challenged his political opponents to remove him from office and then promised to take charge of restoring order to Italy within forty-eight hours. Prefects throughout Italy subsequently received orders to control all "suspect" political organizations. Over the following two days, hundreds of private homes have been searched, meeting halls closed, political groups disbanded and newspapers seized.

Albania has a New President, and Harsher Laws
Arkham, February 3

Ahmed Zog has ascended to power in Albania, becoming its President, Prime Minister and Marshal of the Royal Albanian Army. The new president has immediately curtailed civil liberties in the small Balkan nation.

Ahmed Zog

New Power Plant planned for Arkham

Arkham, February 8

Councilman Bedford Duvall announced yesterday that he is seeing increasing support for the construction of a new powerplant on the Miskatonic River, at a location that remains to be determined. "Arkham is growing, and we see a great need for more electrical power to support the city's growth", claimed Duvall, who also stated that he intends to break ground for the new project no later than April.

Skull of Primate Child: A link to Mankind's Past or A New Species?

Arkham, February 9

Only forty days after he first saw the fossil of a young hominid, Antropologist Raymond Dart completed a paper that named a newly discovered species Australopithecus africanus, the "southern ape from Africa", and described it as "an extinct race of apes intermediate between living anthropoids and man". The paper appeared in the 7 February 1925 issue of the journal Nature. The fossil was soon nicknamed the "Taung Child". Scientists at the Miskatonic University were excited about the find, and Professor Tyler Freeborn claims to the Advertiser that the find may be the first physical find from the long-lost Hyperborean civilization.

Arkham Mining Survey to Proceed

Boston, February 10

The Barrow and Locke Mining Company (B&L) has been granted a surveyor's permit by the state of Massachusetts, and they will proceed to survey the hills southwest of Newburyport. B&L are hoping to find deposits of rare earth elements, which will potentially bring a significant amount of employment opportunities to the Miskatonic Valley and surrounding areas.

Gloves Off for Newlyweds

Arkham, February 9

Boxing champion Jack Dempsey and Hollywood film actress Estelle Taylor were married in a small ceremony on February 7 in San Diego. The bride wore a gorgeous white silk dress with pearl embroideries. 

 

Where is Karen?

It was Monday morning, February 9, and the new year had so far provided opportunities to rest, recuperate, study and catch up with work in a winter wonderland Arkham. It was only when Mackie McNamara woke up and realized to her utter horror that Karen, the indomitable Californian chica hen, was gone that things started to get strange once again. The door to the coop was ajar, and there were signs of a struggle: drops of blood on the white snow and the tracks of at least two pairs of men’s winter boots led out onto the sidewalk. Mackie immediately rang Moira Baker to figure out what to do next.

Meanwhile, Howard Lake and Jules Pollack were sitting over at Jules Pollack Fine Antiques and discussing antiquarian matters. Henry Chester had his way by the cozy antique shop, and he poked his head in through the door, only to be invited for coffee by Burlington Jones. As they were enjoying their strong late morning coffee, they all heard Jones yelling “Stop! Thief!” and running out of the store without his winter coat in hot pursuit of someone. Jones eventually came back, fuming, but without the culprits. “Two older boys, perhaps between 15 and 17, came in and claimed to be looking for a gift to give to an aunt. They were polite and well-mannered, but all of a sudden they grabbed an expensive book, the Beatus Methodivo (an edition from 1756, including a rich commentary by Sir Edgar Trevarry of Oxford, a leading alchemist and mystic of that era). I could not catch the hoodlums”. How strange! Why would two seemingly well-off youngsters steal an old book about esoteric matters?

Meanwhile, Mackie McNamara was hoping for some good advice from Moira, but although Moira was quite sympathetic, she showed signs Mackie didn’t recognize at all. Moira Baker was almost maniacally insistent on using one of the rituals that Mackie had found in the Thaumaturgical Prodigies in the New England Canaan. She grabbed hold of Mackie’s shoulder’s, and in a voice that went from reasoning to a coarse whisper, Moira hissed that Yog-Sothoth is the key, but they know how to use it, and that Yog-Sothoth could show the true way to Karen. Moira was now standing uncomfortable close to Mackie, and her repetitive phrases made Mackie flinch as droplets of Moira’s saliva hit Mackie’s face. Then the doorbell rang, as two Arkham PD officers had been summoned to survey the scene of the crime. They had very little to add.

All roads seem to lead to the Miskatonic University Library, and in this case the Intrepid Investigators went to seek out a copy of the Beatus Methodivo to find out what secrets the little book might hide. It turned out that the book had actually been on loan to the Economics Departure, which struck the investigators as somewhat odd. The head of the Economics Department, Professor Reginald Thornton Smythe seemed to be an economist with few, if any, other interests. He was known to be quite successful, a prolific publisher, and quite arrogant. Trying to book an appointment with Professor Thornton Smythe proved to be impossible, as his secretary, Ms. Annabell Cox, was a true avatar of Cerberus. The Beatus Methodivo did seem to be an interesting piece of work for the occult-minded, and it contained instructions on how to prepare for what seemed to be a Satanic mass, which included the use of a silver dagger, a chalice, a human skull, a candelabra, and a sacrifice during the Satanic mass as well as a ritualistic text or incantation. Was somebody preparing a black mass? With Friday, February 13, approaching, that seemed a distinct possibility.

Ms. Annabell Cox

Professor Reginald Thornton Smythe

The next day, the following article was found in The Arkham Advertiser:

CHRISTCHURCH GRAVE ROBBERY

Arkham, February 10

The grave of musician Mr. Robert "Bobby" Smith (1842-1902) was plundered by unknown perpetrators last night at some time after 10 pm. Unconfirmed rumors claim that there were ritualistic elements to the robbery, and the Arkham PD is currently investigating these claims.

 

Lake and Moira (who was still incessantly going on about the need for a ritual) came to the conclusion that Smith’s grave had been picked due to its proximity to the fence surrounding the Christchurch Cemetery, and that skull had been removed from the rest of the body. The undertaker, Mr. Richard O’Brien, could tell Baker and Lake that the suspected graverobbers were two sturdy, or rather heavy-set, older boys who had been strolling around the cemetery just before the gates were closed and locked for the evening.

Mackie spent that Tuesday morning looking into Professor Thornton Smythe, and he apparently was married, and the father of an 18-year old son and an eleven-year old daughter. But there was other interesting information as well, as the Economics Department had checked out the sole copy of the mystical Remigius’s Daemonolatreia, a grimoire of some notoriety in the Miskatonic University Library, and kept under lock and key. The Daemonologia contained heretical descriptions of creatures from the very pits of Hell, and it has been claimed that weak-minded men had been turned into gibbering idiots after reading the tome. It could only be checked out by a department head. Much later that afternoon, it struck Mackie that the son, Harrison Thornton Smythe, had applied to the Department of Egyptology for an undergraduate degree, but that his application was appalling and included at least one case of plagiarism. A stakeout of the Thornton Smythe residence and a discreet after-hour search of the Economics Department did not find anything noteworthy regarding Professor Thornton Smythe, but Young Harrison Thornton Smythe was in all likelihood elsewhere: it turned out he was a student at a boarding school, namely the Oliver P. Hoover School for Young Gentlemen. This school was founded in 1862 by, obviously, Mr. Hoover. He found Arkham to be a fine, cultivating and healthy place for young gentlemen to grow up, and although he had no connection to the Miskatonic Valley, he was willing to invest in a grand school building for some 80 students between the ages of ten to 18, providing a classic curriculum and character development. In 1925, the Hoover school is a respected second-tier boarding school. However, a new headmaster, Charles H. Winchester II, has assumed office for the fall semester of 1924.

  

                       Oliver P. Hoover                                 Charles H. Winchester II

                 

                           The Oliver P. Hoover School for Young Gentlemen.

As the Intrepid Investigators woke up on Wednesday, the following article was noticed by Jules Pollack:

 

SYNAGOGUE BURGLARY

Arkham, February 11

The Arkham Police is investigating a mid-night burglary of the Temple Sinai synagogue on 11 Whately Street in Downtown Arkham. According to Rabbi Samuel Cohen, a silver challah knife is missing as well as some small change and a box of chewing gum with individual packets being sold for charity. The Arkham PD is currently investigating the case.

 

All of this, and why was Moira Baker STILL going on about the immediate need for a ritual?