The Watchman Watches in Vain

The investigators are surprised to find a patrol vehicle parked in W Main St, close to the cemetery. Detective Ray Stuckey is standing in the street with an elderly local. Alex, a 'Merchant' man himself, recognises the elder as a stone cutter called Elijah Potts.

The auto's lights are on full beam, illuminating the graves and tombs of the wooded graveyard at the end of the street. A chill autumn fog hangs over the eerie scene.

The detective nods politely as the investigators approach. Stucky gets rid of the young patrolman, sending him to check on houses at the other end of the street.

"Ain't that the berries! Clancy Bleasdale got roped into this? Taking over from King and his Spook Crew? I'd stick to reporting on flower shows if I were you."

Stuckey turns to Elijah.

"Mr Potts, everyone here is safe now--these are Mr King's colleagues. Arkham people, good people. Do you want to tell us all the real story of what happened?"

The old stonecutter looks sadly at the arrivals.

"You're King's new folk? I hope things work out for you. Anyway, I'll try to help you like I helped King's crew in the old times..."

"Well, the "Old Citizens", paid a visit. Not just one or two like usual. A whole pack of them. Like ...hyenas, leaping and hopping. They've been roused for days, even coming out in the daytime. Outsiders being seeing them. Not good. Something has got them all restless."

"They ran into the yard behind the Public Schools building there. Halfway down the road on the right there. There was a fearful noise like a battle, a fight between devils. Then they came back carryin' --something, I fear a person--between them. But I hid when they got close. Their blood was roused. Couldn't make out who or what it was they were carryin' ... "

Potts winces and looks over his shoulder at the graveyard, as though its denizens are likely to hear.

"We don’t use that ‘g’ word round here. The Old Citizens. The Neighbours, especially if you live in this block. And no, it’s not common knowledge except for those who need to know. Real old timers like me. A few in the city government and law. King’s operators. A handful more."

"But it’s true. If you were born hereabouts there’s some chance you have the Yard Curse. I thank the Lord that I have grown old without showing signs of it. But you are never safe. Some can ‘turn’ even after their apparent death. Mrs Chaplin told me that. She was one of King’s old team…"

"You think all this is smoke and mirrors, Bleasdale? I hope you are right."

Potts shows interest in Melody’s mention of a dairy.

"It’s right over there on River. Arkham Dairy. You say there was a blotch close to it on a photo? Can you show me?""Seems like we only have a second hand account of a photo of something. But a splotch on an aerial photo would be something big. A building say. I’d put my money on the abandoned church on the corner there. If there’s anything in this area with enough spook energy to show up in a photo, it’s that’s place.""Now look, that young patrolman grew up in Beantown, not Arkham. I don’t want him catching on that there’s something amiss here. Let’s go up to the yard behind the Schools building where Mr Potts said the ghouls — Applesauce! Sorry Mr Potts, Neighbours — had some sort of fight. "

"Then we’ll have to take off and leave it to you specialists."

Emma knows the established lore about the church. Built in 1801, abandoned in 1878 when moaning sounds came from the coffin of a co-founder suspected of wizardry.

Emma knows several further legends about the old place. Only those born in the sound of the church bells can be considered true Old Arkhamites. There is a secret ‘observation cell’ in the steeple’s internal scaffolding. It was used in the age of sail to sight ships coming up the Miskatonic. Later, by astronomers (and perhaps magicians) to perform observations. The church bells are lined with silver but have never been removed or damaged. Witches, flying over the Commonwealth on Samhain night, we’re believed to use the church as a landmark. And so on…

"Ok, let’s take a look. Bleasdale? Mr Cowley? Are you going to come with us?"

Stuckey notes that Emma is hanging back and nods, acknowledging her decision.

He orders the patrolman away, asking him to ‘phone a report from the police call box on River Street. Once the young man is out of sight, he draws and readies two police .45s, sticking one in his belt.

Stuckey advances into the alley that leads to the rear of the Schools Building. He clicks on a police flashlight but its beam seems ineffective in the unlighted space.