What an atmosphere. Anemone kind of loves it.

Three feet down in the mud and clay, there is a metal box. It’s the color of a gun, sealed shut against mud and water by three tight metal latches. It is just barely rusting.

They fill in the hole. 

Clouds gather. There are sounds of rumbling thunder in the distance.

It begins to pour down rain.

Oh, good, Mordred doesn't have to explain why he's covered in grave mud. 

Man, the graveyard is so much less creepy than the house, tbqh.

Meanwhile--

Mrs. Henslowe engages Zoe in pleasant conversation about the weather and mentions that Carruthers is at his cottage but that he will be happy to make their guests some dinner.

Zoe goes to fetch Carruthers. 

Carruthers' cottage is a cramped, cluttered place, dominated by a worn-out easy chair and a phonograph. His three dogs hover ever about, growling at strangers as they sprawl across what little floor is available. The place is all hardwoods and layered, tattered rugs. Moths beat against bare bulbs. Fishing rods hang on hooks from the walls. Mounted fish take up the opposite wall.

"I take it you're a fisher."

FROM OUTSIDE.

"Yes, ma'am," Carruthers says. "Are you wantin' some dinner, ma'am?"

"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother."

"No, ma'am, you're guests," he says in a tone similar to "you're the president."

And then Zoe is sent to the parlor to listen to Mrs. Henslowe chat about her cat, who is the most evil-tempered beast known to humankind. Mrs. Henslowe has taken SUCH a liking to Zoe.

Zoe tells stories about cats she has met in her travels, and how they compare to Virgil, who is clearly incomparable.

After a lovely dinner of grits, collard greens, bacon, and cornbread, clearly assembled hastily at the last minute from whatever scraps of food they could afford so they would have a proper dinner for their guests, Mrs. Henslowe insists that Carruthers should drive them all back to their hotel.

Zoe surreptitiously leaves a small wad of her stipend somewhere.

Carruthers sees it and smiles at her.

Carrie notices that and follows suit.

Anemone does Not want to leave Mrs. Henslowe money but she does tip Carruthers when he drives her back to the hotel.

"Thank you, ma'am," Carruthers says and winks at her.

Lacie has STOLEN Communion Rites of Victorian Death Cults. It's not like the Henslowes were using it anyway.

The investigators return to the hotel and open their box.

Upon opening the box, the first thing they see is a flat and jagged square stone decorated with a raised but worn glyph resembling a lidded eye stylized into a glyph. It looks rather like it’s been removed from some temple wall or statue somewhere. None of them recognize the symbol.

Zoe takes a rubbing of the symbol.

Beneath that is a translucent envelope containing a note from Douglas Henslowe to Walter Winston.

W- 

I’ve destroyed the notes I took during our investigation after compiling what I saw and what I remember into this notebook. The stone you might recognize. I took it from the barn that night. I think it was E’s. I know the Thing watches me. If it wanted to hurt me, I think it could.

I hope you’re careful. I put our materials in a safe deposit box in the First Bank of Long Beach before coming home. The key is here. Use it wisely. I know you will.

Don’t come for me. I don’t think I have it in me anymore to do the work. I don’t trust myself anymore. Thank you for coming this far. 

-D

Ooh. "E might be Eshavaria?"

"Yeah, seems likely it's the film guy who was running the cult."