"I think the ramblings of an old man are just what she wanted us to hear."

"Well," he says. "It was 1923. We were traveling the country, hot on the tail of the cult that started all this. We questioned people, gathered evidence, took pictures, traveled all over. We were like detectives armed with our secret knowledge in the occult. It was an exciting time." Douglas seems almost nostalgic.

"The cult that started all... this?" She looks fascinated.

"Yes. We'd followed the drugs all the way across the country to Los Angeles. That's where the bulk of our investigation took place. That's where." He pauses. "That's where it happened."

"What happened there, Mr. Henslowe?"

"In good time, in good time, Miss-- you did not introduce yourself."

"Lacie Ferrier. I apologize, I got ahead of myself."
 
 
 

"My name's Zoe Aletheia, Mr. Henslowe."

"Thank you, Miss Aletheia, Miss Ferrier," Mr. Henslowe says. "Now, there were four of us investigating. Miss Clark was a chit of a girl like you, sharp. I'm not the kind of person who says women shouldn't be involved in this. I'm a gentleman but Miss Clark knew what she was about. Archivist, camerawoman, recordkeeper. She was the one who got the photographs. She could look at things that made my stomach turn and she would just... snap a picture. I think she hated that the cult would operate in secret, that people would cover up something so vile instead of revealing it for what it is."

"I like her already."

"Vince Stack. Tough fellow. The fixer, if you get my meaning. Good with a gun, good with his hands, always ready with a drink but down to business when it counts. And F. C Kullman. Occult expert. He was known far and wide for his expertise, back in the day. Walter had to pay him quite a bit to get him to come out. He was in a wheelchair, but he had a can-do attitude. Brightest man I've ever met, and when it counted the bravest."

Douglas glances at the orderly, pauses for a moment, and then appears to come to a decision. "Are you continuing the work?"

"Mrs. Winston-Rogers has asked us to learn what we can about the incident of 1924. Beyond that, I can't say. Perhaps."

She smiles brightly. "I think so, though, yes. --You said you were following drugs, and a cult. Which drugs? Which cult?"

"All those names made my head spin even before I was on the medication," Douglas says. "The drug was-- I don't know that it had a name yet. It was new. Made you sharp, made you focused, made you stay up late working. Like amphetamines without the side effects. All those Hollywood types loved it."

"Hmm. Like everything was suddenly clear, and sharp, and the whole world was laid out in front of you..." This started as a question, she swears it did. She coughs. "But this was related to whatever the cult was doing?"

"Yes, that's exactly what they said it was like. They were selling it to fund their activities. We were working on unraveling the exact details when-- Miss Clark got word that many of the cultists were meeting up there. Kullman said the stars were right that day too, whatever that means. So we rushed out there with guns and homemade firebombs to put a stop to it. To save the world."

"How was the world in danger?"

"When a cult is gathering in a barn when the stars are right, Miss Aletheia, you don't have to know the details to know that the world is in danger."

"I meant more -- what was the nature of the danger? Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice, and all that."

"Well, that we learned, because they succeeded." He sighs. "There was... a Thing. It haunts my nightmares. I can't describe it. When that Thing began tearing people apart-- people were running and screaming and throwing themselves into the fire, trying to get away from it.

"Throwing themselves into our line of fire.
 
 "I shot some people that night. Probably killed them. I--" He hesitates. "It is a hell of a thing to take a person's life."

"This -- Thing. Did it have any particular connection with... mouths?" Zoe displays the sketch in her notebook of the water stain from the house.

"Yes, yes that's it exactly. The thing itself had," Douglas shivers. "So many mouths."

"How did it end, that night?" she asks. "How--" she hesitates "--was it stopped?"

"I don't know. The Thing came for us, me and Walter, and I saw Walter panic-- you have to understand, I'd never seen him panic-- and the next thing I know I was bolting through the high grasses with the fire behind me. Like a coward. Like a damn coward. Pardon my language, miss."

"No need. It sounds like the situation fully warranted it. It must have been truly terrifying to have that effect on men of your and Mr. Winston's character."

She watches the orderly carefully. He... is definitely going to report on this conversation once it's over, isn't he.