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An old acquaintance, a dangerous prospect, a race against time...
Malevolent follows Arkham Investigator Arthur Lester as he unravels the mysterious circumstances that have befallen him.
Part 35 picks up right 34 left off with Arthur tied to a chair in a basement, the butcher having just left him for Larson. In this episode, Arthur must race against the clock to save those he's come to care for and save innocents from further bloodshed. Will he manage to save them before the Butcher makes quick work of them? Only one way to find out.
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PART THIRTY-FIVE: THE DEAL
Transcripts made by Jack
CWs: Captivity, wrist injury/blood, discussions of suicide, body horror, near-miss car accident, memory loss, frequent coughing, hostage situation, knife violence, references to parental abuse/parental death, assault
(BEGIN Part 35.)
(A reverberating audio distortion. A slow piano melody begins. People talk in muted conversation.)
DANIEL (muffled): You must be Arthur.
ARTHUR (muffled): Oh, yes, yes.
DANIEL: I’ve heard a great deal about you.
ARTHUR: Nice to meet you, finally.
DANIEL: You can call me Mr. Saltzman. (They shake hands. Their voices grow clearer.) Or… in time… Father.
ARTHUR: Ah – Oh. Uh. Thank you.
(Daniel clinks a glass.)
DANIEL (at a distance): If I may say a few words. (Closer, a chair squeaks and Arthur mumbles groggily.) To my daughter…
ARTHUR (talking in his sleep): Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. No, no.
JOHN: Arthur! (Terror music starts. Arthur startles awake with a gasp.) What are you doing?
ARTHUR: John?
JOHN: You fell asleep!
ARTHUR (startled): Did I? Oh, no.
JOHN: I know. (ARTHUR: No no no no no.) I know.
ARTHUR (shaky): I didn’t, I didn’t… the adrenaline must, must’ve… I must’ve crashed, when…
JOHN: We need to get out of here.
ARTHUR (frantic and angry): I know that. I know that. Don’t you think I know that? Daniel is… (He strains, the chair squeaks.) He’s alive, John!
JOHN: I know, I know! (Arthur makes noises of exertion.) You need to keep trying the ropes. If Larson should arrive…
ARTHUR: I can’t think about that. I need to focus on the goal right now. Focus on the goal. Not the punishment. (He continues to strain, something stretches.) Tell me the rope is loosening. Come on! My wrists are practically raw.
JOHN: Nothing, yet. He’s left enough for the ropes to move, but not enough to break or bend anything to get out!
ARTHUR (continues to strain, terrified): He knew. He knew. He wanted me to struggle. He wanted me to…
JOHN: The goal.
ARTHUR: Right. Right. (He makes noises of pain as he pulls, breathing heavily.)
JOHN: You’re going to start drawing blood from your wrists.
ARTHUR: I’m trying to.
JOHN: You’re trying to make yourself bleed?
ARTHUR (out of breath): The blood… can act as lubricant to… maybe slip my hand out. (The terror music abruptly stops to Arthur’s pained gasps.)
JOHN: They’re too tight, Arthur. (A slow piano melody begins.) He knew what he was doing.
ARTHUR (in despair): Daniel.
JOHN: I know. Arthur, you can’t blame yourself for –
ARTHUR (suddenly furious): Can’t I? If not me, then who, John? Who?
JOHN (uncertain): I…
ARTHUR: I left the fucking name at the hotel which led him straight to Daniel! (Weaker.) Who was… who was only trying to reconnect with his son.
JOHN: You couldn’t have known.
ARTHUR: No, I couldn’t have. But I still brought them onto… brought them both.
JOHN: I hear you, Arthur, believe me. But we need to keep our head above water.
ARTHUR: You’re right. You’re right. How long was I out?
JOHN (hesitantly): Not long at all, but…
ARTHUR: Long enough.
JOHN: I’m sorry, Arthur.
ARTHUR: John. We can’t be taken by Larson. We can’t. (A small pause.) If we can’t get out…
JOHN: I know.
ARTHUR: No, no. Listen. (Suspenseful music starts to rise.) We cannot let him take us. Not alive. If there’s no way out –
JOHN (cutting him off): You can’t kill yourself, Arthur. Kill us!
ARTHUR: If it’s between that or Larson…
JOHN: We’ve been through this.
ARTHUR: This isn’t the same as last time, John.
JOHN: Look. We’re not giving up. Not yet. There’s no way to kill yourself here, anyway. You’re still bound to this chair. We have time. We just need to focus…
(At a distance, a door creaks open. Terror music starts. Arthur strains against his bonds again.)
ARTHUR (high-pitched): Oh no.
JOHN: Arthur.
ARTHUR (hyperventilating): No! No, no.
JOHN: Arthur!
ARTHUR: Fuck!
JOHN: Arthur, calm down!
ARTHUR: We can’t be taken!
JOHN: Stop moving!
ARTHUR: We can’t be taken! (He struggles.) We can’t – (Wood scrapes on the floor.)
JOHN: Arthur!
ARTHUR: We can’t!
JOHN: You’re going to knock the chair over!
(Arthur makes a noise of fright. The chair knocks over. He continues to hyperventilate as the door squeaks open and shuts. Plodding, slightly wet footsteps enter.)
JOHN: Scratch.
ARTHUR (terrified): Scratch.
(Mr. Scratch growls and Arthur recoils in fear.)
ARTHUR: Scratch, I… (He breathes shakily.)
ARTHUR: You?
JOHN: He’s still in possession of Hattie. Marie’s sister. He’s… walking around the room.
ARTHUR: I-I didn’t! I-I wasn’t trying to.
ARTHUR: I wasn’t trying to.
ARTHUR: He didn’t! He didn’t. I thought he did… but he didn’t die.
ARTHUR: No, but he will! (Pleading.) Scratch.
ARTHUR: I… I need your help.
JOHN: Arthur, this is a monster possessing an innocent woman. Oscar is –
ARTHUR: You – you told me that I was your f… favorite. T-That I was special, to you.
ARTHUR: That you were… indebted to me.
JOHN (disapproving): Arthur.
ARTHUR: Then untie me! Let me go. And, and we’re even.
ARTHUR: Yes, e-even!
ARTHUR: So! Not even, then, fine!
ARTHUR (eagerly): Yes, yes!
JOHN (taken aback): Offer?
ARTHUR: Anything you want, anything!
JOHN: Arthur, think of what you’re saying! We don’t know anything about this creature. Daniel… even if you did get out of here, how would you…?
(The chair squeaks.)
ARTHUR: I need to save… I need to save him.
ARTHUR: And?
JOHN (in horror): No.
ARTHUR: Why can’t you… just take another, then? On your own? Why, why not just –
ARTHUR: And once Hattie wakes up…
ARTHUR: Unless?
ARTHUR: H-How? (Clothing shifts.)
JOHN: She’s reaching into her pocket, Arthur. (Something dry spills onto the floor.) She’s pulled out a small white stone.
ARTHUR: What are you…
(A continuous, soft whooshing noise.)
JOHN: She’s breathing on the stone. A dark gray mist seems to wash over it.
ARTHUR: This… This is…
JOHN: Arthur, do you know what this means? This would be cursing some innocent –
ARTHUR (frantic, amidst a gentle piano melody): What other choice do we have, John? Die in this chair!? Larson is coming. He’ll be here any moment. And Daniel… is looking down the barrel of the Butcher’s gun. What do we do, instead? (Demanding.) Tell me!
JOHN: I… I… I don’t know.
ARTHUR: Neither do I. This isn't a choice I want to make, John. B-But what other is there? It’s between this and doing nothing. A-And… just because you can’t make the hard decision doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
(The chair squeaks.)
JOHN: Arthur. What if we –
ARTHUR (cutting him off): It’s a deal, Scratch. (Faroe’s Lullaby starts to play on the music box.) Okay? Deal. I will owe you. I will be in… your debt, okay? I will find you a new… body.
(Mr. Scratch steps forward.)
JOHN: Arthur. (A wooden thump. The chair rattles.)
ARTHUR: Thank you. Thank you.
ARTHUR: Yes.
ARTHUR: I will. (The sound of something crumbling, amidst whispers.)
JOHN (in disgust): Ugh.
ARTHUR: I promise.
JOHN: You’ve just traded our life –
ARTHUR (furiously cutting him off): I know! I know. Let’s deal with that later. Right now the Butcher is on his way to Daniel, and we need to stop him.
JOHN: How? Do you even know where the hospital is? (Footsteps. The door squeaks open and shut.) Arthur! What are you –
ARTHUR: The phone, John!
JOHN: To your left. There! What are you…
(Arthur grunts, dials the phone. The line rings and connects.)
OPERATOR: Operator.
ARTHUR: Operator! I need to speak with Lenox Hill. Emergencies.
JOHN (eager): Yes, yes!
OPERATOR: A moment, please.
JOHN: The address!
ARTHUR: Wait, wait! A-Also the address.
JOHN: If you warn them about the Butcher, you may be able to stop him. Or have them stop him!
ARTHUR (grimly): Or it becomes a bloodbath.
OPERATOR: Lenox Hill Hospital, 100 East 77th Street, between Lexington and Park Avenue.
ARTHUR: Thank –
OPERATOR (cutting him off): Connecting you to Emergencies now.
ARTHUR: You.
JOHN (curious): Park Avenue?
HOSPITAL WORKER: Lenox Hill Emergency Room.
ARTHUR: Listen to me. There is a man on his way to your hospital. (A piano version of ‘Peggy Gordon’ begins.) He may be there already, he is an older Irish man, mid 40s to early 50s. He is bald with a horseshoe hairline of thinning gray hair. (The worker tries to interrupt.) Now, now listen! He is dressed as a police officer and he’s there to kill a patient of yours. Daniel Saltzman. Now –
HOSPITAL WORKER: Hold on, you’ll need to slow down now –
ARTHUR (furious): Would you listen to me!?
JOHN (trying to get his attention): Arthur!
ARTHUR: Move Daniel Saltzman now. You got that? Get his name stricken from the record, make him anonymous! Phone the police. Do not allow anyone to see him. Do you understand?
HOSPITAL WORKER (placating): Okay, okay. I understand now. If you want to stay on the line, let me transfer you to –
ARTHUR: No, I don’t have time.
JOHN: Arthur!
ARTHUR: What?
JOHN: Daniel’s place was 81st Street and Park Avenue.
ARTHUR: Well, that’s just around here.
JOHN: We can make it there.
OPERATOR: Sir, if you – (Arthur slams the phone down. Suspenseful music starts.)
JOHN: Move, Arthur! (Arthur runs, barreling through a door into the sounds of the city.)
ARTHUR: Which direction?
JOHN: South! There!
ARTHUR: Excuse me! Move! (Unintelligible whispers play briefly, over city sounds.)
JOHN: We have to hope that they can do something before the Butcher arrives. Even at a leisurely pace, the Butcher must already be there.
ARTHUR: Out of the way! Excuse me!
JOHN: Keep going!
ARTHUR (panting): I am trying. What the hell do we do when we get there?
JOHN: If they move Daniel… then that will at least give some time!
ARTHUR: He may still be in surgery.
JOHN: Cross the street. Now!
ARTHUR: Should we take a taxi, I –
JOHN: You just passed 79th Street!
ARTHUR: Two more streets?
JOHN: Just keep moving!
ARTHUR: The Butcher doesn’t know that we’re out. He doesn’t know anyone is expecting him, or doubting him. I don’t think he’s going to make a mess of things. With Daniel being possibly out of it, he’ll keep his ruse as a police officer. Try and find a quiet moment and kill him. The hospital staff is smart. They’ll heed our warning.
JOHN (barking): Arthur! (Brakes squeal abruptly. Someone honks. The music stops, and Arthur continues at a less frantic pace.) If they didn’t…
ARTHUR: Yes?
JOHN: Daniel is dead.
ARTHUR: I know.
JOHN: We still need to be smart about this. It’s clear that Daniel is important to you. We can’t allow the Butcher to see that or manipulate it.
ARTHUR: I know!
JOHN: And with Larson coming back to an empty room…
ARTHUR (frustrated): One bite at a time, John! Save Daniel.
JOHN: Alright. Lenox Hill!
ARTHUR: Okay! (They go through a door. A sad piano melody begins.)
JOHN: What is our plan? Guess where Daniel is? Try to navigate around yourselves, or should we ask about him?
ARTHUR (quiet): If they’re aware of someone trying to hurt him, they would only let family visit.
JOHN: You don’t have any way to identify yourself.
ARTHUR: Fuck.
JOHN: If we don’t ask for help, we’d be searching the halls while the Butcher has already come, done his job, and left.
ARTHUR: B-B-But we just told them not to let anyone see him. If we ask about him… they may have taken our warning and will refuse to let us see him. Then what? We could be asked questions. And things we can’t explain, a-and even so. Do we lie about who we are? Do we tell them that we were the ones calling? We have to get to Daniel. Quickly.
JOHN: Asking is the quickest way to find him!
ARTHUR: Or we won’t be able to see him at all!
JOHN (worried): I don’t know. But we need to do something.
(Footsteps.)
ARTHUR: No. No, no, no. We can’t ask anyone anything.
JOHN (frustrated): Arthur!
ARTHUR: Listen to me! (A slow piano melody begins.) We just told them someone is here to hurt Daniel.
JOHN: But we’re not –
ARTHUR (cutting him off): No. But there’s no way that they would just let us see him, even if we manage to convince them that we are here as family, they would still take time. More time than just looking. (John sighs.) Time is what we’re fighting against.
JOHN: Alright, I hear you.
ARTHUR: Good, now! Directory.
JOHN (confused): Directory?
ARTHUR (impatient): A place where we can see what comprises certain floors.
JOHN: Right, right. Forward. (Arthur walks.) Right, here! Here! Right in front of this hallway. First floor contains, uh, emergency… admissions, security… cafeteria…
ARTHUR: No, no. Not this one.
JOHN: Second floor, operating room. Men’s ward, it –
(Terror music starts.)
ARTHUR: That’s it! That has to be it.
JOHN: Operating room?
ARTHUR: Yes! Or if he’s out, he’d be in the men’s ward.
JOHN: Huh. The stairs are to your left! (Arthur takes off at a sprint, breathing hard, pushing through a door.) Arthur, slow!
ARTHUR: What? (He goes through another door.)
JOHN: Look. I hear you about asking for Daniel, but if that’s the case, if they did heed your warning…
ARTHUR: Right, right.
JOHN: Just blend in. Who knows what’s happened. (Faroe’s Song starts to play.)
ARTHUR: Okay, okay. (Arthur walks slower.)
JOHN: There are a set of double doors to your right. Arthur, remember. The Butcher.
ARTHUR (self-evident): Oh, believe me.
JOHN: He may have changed his outfit again. If he plans on killing Daniel here, then…
ARTHUR: Right. (He goes through a door.)
JOHN: This is a long corridor with glass windows to the right that overlook a room filled with beds. (People periodically cough.) To the left are a series of offices. Their doors are mostly shut, save a few.
ARTHUR: The men’s ward?
JOHN: I…
ARTHUR: Are there men in the beds?
JOHN: Yes. Arthur… there’s no way the Butcher is going to kill Daniel out in the open like this! (Arthur exhales shakily. An eerie piano melody begins.) It’s far too public!
ARTHUR: Let’s just take it one step at a time, but yes. I hear you. Do you see Daniel?
JOHN: I… I don’t think so.
ARTHUR (frustrated): Damn it, John! Look!
JOHN: I’m looking! I don’t see him.
ARTHUR: Okay, okay, okay. He may still be in…
JOHN: Wait. Arthur. There are also private wards up ahead.
ARTHUR: Private?
JOHN: Yes, down the hall. Would Daniel…
ARTHUR: Spring for a private room, of course he would! God damn you, Daniel.
JOHN (sighing): If there are private rooms, the Butcher would –
ARTHUR (furious): God damn it, Daniel! (He takes off, breathing hard. Chilling music plays.)
JOHN: Left! There’s only one private ward! Arthur, the door’s closed! (Whispers briefly play, unintelligible.) Here!
(They go through a door. The music stops abruptly.)
ARTHUR: Daniel!
JOHN (anxious): The curtain is drawn around the bed. (A slow piano melody begins.)
ARTHUR (fearful): No, no.
JOHN: Someone is laying in it. Unmoving.
ARTHUR (emotional): No.
JOHN: Arthur… (The curtain moves back. A woman’s voice cries out in shock.) Oh! It’s a woman, Arthur!
ARTHUR (taken aback): Oh! Oh, I’m so – so sorry! So sorry. I thought you were someone else, I. (The woman makes a noise of disgust.) I’m sorry. (They leave and walk down the hallway.) If he’s not in the private ward, and he’s not in the public ward…
JOHN: Did the Butcher already get here? And maybe… (Distantly approaching footsteps.) Arthur?
ARTHUR: What?
JOHN: Someone is approaching us. (Suspenseful music rises.) They’re walking down the hall directly at us.
ARTHUR: Who?
JOHN: I have no idea, Arthur!
ARTHUR (scared): Okay.
JOHN: We still need to find Daniel!
OSCAR (distant): Parker?
JOHN: They know your alias!
ARTHUR (hang on a minute): Wait.
OSCAR: Parker?
ARTHUR: Oscar?
JOHN: Who?
OSCAR (closer): Parker!
ARTHUR: John, it’s… it’s Oscar!
JOHN (confused): I, I… I don’t understand? Who… who is…?
OSCAR (relieved): Parker. You made it. You made it out. (A somber piano melody begins.)
ARTHUR: Oscar, what on Earth are you… what are you…?
OSCAR: You called me. I heard gunshots, I… I saw the address when you looked it up, and.
ARTHUR (in awe): You… You saved Daniel?
OSCAR (humble): I, I did what anyone would do.
ARTHUR: I can’t believe it.
JOHN: Arthur, why are you…? Who…?
ARTHUR (near tears): I… thank you! Thank you. Thank you. (He pulls Oscar into a hug, pats his shoulder.)
OSCAR (awkwardly): Oh, well. Don’t thank me yet, he’s quite upset, but.
ARTHUR: I, I’m speechless. W-Wait, Daniel, is he –
OSCAR: He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s in the men’s ward.
ARTHUR: I, I looked, but I didn’t see…
OSCAR: Well, he saw you, and…
ARTHUR: How did I miss that, I…
JOHN (uncertain): He wasn’t there…
OSCAR: You’re under a lot of stress. I am sure.
JOHN (at a loss): I didn’t see either of them, I swear. And this man… Oscar?
ARTHUR: Daniel.
OSCAR: Yes, of course. (They walk.) Now, he’s very groggy. So fair warning.
ARTHUR: Of course.
JOHN (more confident): Right, Oscar. The man helping Marie, right! I knew that.
ARTHUR: Just. Just take it easy.
OSCAR: Uh?
ARTHUR: Ah, I’m just telling myself to relax.
OSCAR: Of course.
ARTHUR (sighing in relief): Daniel… wait, why was he upset?
DANIEL (roaring): Can you bloody believe it!? One private room at Lenox Hill. (His bed squeaks.)
ARTHUR: Daniel.
OSCAR: I’ll give you two a… moment. Parker, when you’re done, I’ll…?
ARTHUR: Yes, yes! We’ll talk in a second. (The bed squeaks.)
OSCAR: Right.
DANIEL: So he was the man calling you at the house. Parker.
ARTHUR: Yes, I-I’m… I’m so sorry, Daniel.
DANIEL: It’s… alright, I…
ARTHUR: No, listen. I am… (He clears his throat.)
DANIEL: What? (A sad piano melody begins.)
ARTHUR: I’m sorry I… gave up. (He breathes shakily.) I’m sorry I didn’t… try harder. I’m sorry that we both lost out on something, I… I let my guilt over Bella taint what you offered me. I-I don’t know how, but… I know I can’t get back there. It’s not the same now, and it never will be, but. Even though we’re broken men, I… I want you to know I’m sorry.
DANIEL (uncomfortable): Yes, well, um. You know, I… I never, I’m not, ehm… I know I can be… I’m sorry, too.
JOHN: The Butcher, Arthur.
ARTHUR (pulling himself together): Right. Daniel, he’s coming for you.
DANIEL: Who?
ARTHUR: The Butcher. The man who… shot you. He didn’t know you lived, he’s coming for you, and you need to move! We need to do something, I-I told the police –
DANIEL (cutting him off): Winston Churchill stayed here. Did you know that? Last year.
ARTHUR: Daniel, did you hear me?
DANIEL: Ehm, yes, well. You know.
ARTHUR (impatient): Daniel, did you hear me?
JOHN: He’s out of it, Arthur.
DANIEL (groggy): Yes, well.
ARTHUR (sighing): Oscar. Oscar, where’s Oscar?
JOHN: By the door to the ward. (Footsteps.) Here.
OSCAR: Parker, I…
ARTHUR: Listen. You’re in danger. The man who shot Daniel, the man who tried to kill me, is coming here. He may already be here, he’s an older Irishman, thinning, gray hair, bald on top. He was dressed as a police officer last time I saw him, you can’t be associated with this, Oscar, you need to leave, this –
OSCAR: No.
JOHN: No?
OSCAR: Look, you clearly need my help. If you haven’t noticed the garb, I’m not in the business of not helping.
ARTHUR: I, I don’t understand, I… why? Oscar, we don’t know each other, we –
OSCAR: We don’t have to know each other. Look, I don’t… (He sighs.) I don’t know if your name is Parker. I don’t care. It looks to me like you’re trying to do good in this world. And so am I. And I want to help. So let me.
ARTHUR: Okay. Okay. Well. Be on the lookout for a man that –
OSCAR: Well, that’s not him, is it?
ARTHUR: What?
JOHN: He’s looking behind us. There’s a man in a trenchcoat walking toward us.
OSCAR: Looks like he wants to talk to you.
ARTHUR (whispering): Is it Larson?
JOHN: I don’t think so.
ARTHUR (whispering): The Butcher?
JOHN (not confident): No?
ARTHUR: N-No, no, no, it’s, uh, it’s… no one. Look, look. You want to help. Don’t let Daniel out of your sight, no matter what.
OSCAR: I promise.
ARTHUR: Okay. (Oscar walks off.)
JOHN: Oscar is heading back to Daniel, but this man… he’s coming directly to us, Arthur!
ARTHUR: Are you sure this isn’t Larson or the Butcher?
JOHN: I…
ARTHUR: John!
JOHN: I don’t… know, anymore, I can’t tell!
ARTHUR: John!
JOHN: I am trying to remember!
ARTHUR: Damn it, John!
STRANGER (approaching): Afternoon, how are you?
ARTHUR: Good. You?
STRANGER: I’m golden.
ARTHUR: Can I ask who you are?
STRANGER: Absolutely. If I can do the same.
ARTHUR: Who are you?
STRANGER: You first.
ARTHUR: Arthur Lester. (A sad piano piece begins.)
JOHN: Arthur, why?
STRANGER: Arthur Lester.
ARTHUR: You?
(Footsteps.)
STRANGER: Detective Noel.
JOHN: Detective?
ARTHUR: Detective? Listen! That’s my father-in-law in there, through the glass.
JOHN: Third bed from the left!
ARTHUR: Third from the left. Daniel Saltzman. And he’s in danger.
JOHN: He’s… listening, but has an odd expression on his face.
ARTHUR: There is a man. He may already be here, he’s dressed as a police officer, his name… or rather, his alias is ‘The Butcher’. He’s an older Irish man and – (The shifting of fabric.)
JOHN: He’s holding up his hand as if to signal you to stop.
ARTHUR: What?
DETECTIVE NOEL: So you’re the one who called.
JOHN (surprised): He knows!
ARTHUR (relieved): Yes! Yes! You – You know about it?
DETECTIVE NOEL: The admin at the front desk filled me in.
ARTHUR: Is he –
DETECTIVE NOEL (cutting him off): Mr. Lester, you don’t need to worry about Mr. Saltzman. I feel fairly confident that we have the situation under control.
ARTHUR (darkly): Listen to me. You have no idea what kind of person this is.
DETECTIVE NOEL: I don’t. (Footsteps. He sucks his teeth.) Okay.
(Arthur huffs a breath.)
JOHN: He has no idea what he’s in for.
(A dark piano melody begins.)
ARTHUR (passionately): Detective. Listen to me. The Butcher… is relentless. A hired killer with years of murders under his belt. He has never been caught and believe me, others have tried.
JOHN: He’s… studying your face. Through slitted eyes. As if trying to read your intent.
(Arthur sighs.)
ARTHUR: Look, look, we don’t have time.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Where are you from, Mr. Lester?
ARTHUR: Arkham! It’s up near Boston.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Oh, oh, believe me, I know it.
ARTHUR: Please. (Fabric shifts, metal clatters.)
JOHN: He’s pulled out a thin silver case. He’s taking a cigarette out.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Light?
ARTHUR: If Daniel isn’t moved –
DETECTIVE NOEL: Oh. Do you think moving Daniel would stop this killer?
ARTHUR: Well… Well, no.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Ah.
ARTHUR (downtrodden): But.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Ah. Well, then. (With a cigarette in his mouth.) Got a light?
ARTHUR: Here. (Arthur shifts, starts his lighter. A slow piano melody starts.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: Hm. (The lighter is extinguished.) Mr. Lester. I believe you, I do.
ARTHUR (sarcastically): Of course. But you don’t have –
DETECTIVE NOEL: Whoa, whoa, whoa! But nothing. Here’s what I know. The front desk let a man matching a description you gave into the hospital a few minutes before my arrival.
ARTHUR: I –
JOHN (in awe): He’s here!
DETECTIVE NOEL: But, they heeded your warning, and they informed him that Mr. Saltzman was still in surgery, that it would be a few hours, at least.
JOHN: If he’s already here, why haven’t we seen him? He may have left!
DETECTIVE NOEL (blowing smoke): They told him to go grab a coffee in the cafeteria. I sent a few men I brought with me to watch him there.
ARTHUR (quietly): Oh.
DETECTIVE NOEL: To keep eyes on him.
JOHN: Yes, Arthur! They’ve cornered him! He’ll still be waiting while they check into him and realize he’s not who he claims to be!
DETECTIVE NOEL: Alright? (Arthur stutters.) So when he moves, we’ll know. Okay? Breathe easy. (Arthur takes a deep breath. The detective walks forward.) What’s the matter?
(A slow piano version of ‘Peggy Gordon’ begins.)
ARTHUR: He’s already moved.
JOHN: What?
DETECTIVE NOEL: And how do you know that?
(A short pause.)
ARTHUR: Because that’s what I would do.
JOHN: He said the two of you were similar.
DETECTIVE NOEL (half-believing): Because that’s what you would do, okay. Okay. (Footsteps.) Alright, and what would you do next?
ARTHUR (to himself, barely intelligible): Hunter that hunts like a…
JOHN (worried): Arthur…
(Arthur continues to mutter to himself, unintelligible. The detective snaps his fingers at him.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: Hey. Talk to me. (ARTHUR: Y-Yeah?) I’m trying to help.
JOHN: Arthur, y –
ARTHUR (cutting him off): Look, the Butcher wouldn’t just wait for Daniel to be out of surgery, that’s not how he works. That’s… not how he hunts.
DETECTIVE NOEL: ‘Cause you would?
ARTHUR: No.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Okay. So what would you do?
(A piano version of ‘Peggy Gordon’ begins again.)
ARTHUR: Confirm what’s been said. I would visit Surgery.
JOHN: That’s this floor.
DETECTIVE NOEL: And when he’s not there? When you realize that Daniel isn’t in surgery anymore? You would come here.
ARTHUR: No.
JOHN: No?
DETECTIVE NOEL: No?
ARTHUR: No, no, no. Not at first. No. I… I would look into Surgery. And when I realized my target isn’t there… where’s the window overlooking the ward?
JOHN: I’m looking.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Right in front of you.
JOHN: I don’t see any police officers…
DETECTIVE NOEL: You’d look here for your target, y –
ARTHUR (cutting him off): No, no. No. (The detective scoffs.) I’d realize that I’d been found out.
DETECTIVE NOEL (dumbfounded): How?
ARTHUR: Because the front desk lied to me.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Okay, okay. So what, you’d, uh, you’d leave if you thought that the police would –
ARTHUR: No.
JOHN: Arthur. (Footsteps.)
ARTHUR (hollowly): I’d change.
JOHN: There’s a man two beds down from Daniel. (A suspenseful sting of music briefly plays.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: Change into what?
JOHN: He’s wearing a face covering like the other orderlies, but… (Arthur breathes quicker.) The top of his head is bald.
ARTHUR: There’s an orderly two beds to the left of my father-in-law. Do you see him?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Yes.
ARTHUR: That’s him! (They walk closer.) That’s the Butcher.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Alright, you stay here. I’m going to move in behind him and draw on him.
JOHN: Arthur! He’s getting closer to Daniel! And Oscar!
ARTHUR: Wait!
DETECTIVE NOEL: What?
ARTHUR: No, no, he’s too close to Daniel and Oscar! By the time you get behind him…
DETECTIVE NOEL: Just stay here.
(His footsteps echo in the distance. Terror-filled music starts.)
ARTHUR: Fuck!
JOHN: If he gets to Daniel’s bed – (ARTHUR: Fuck!) Before Noel gets him, he’ll kill them both!
ARTHUR (breathing fast): We need a distraction.
JOHN: What kind?
ARTHUR: Us.
JOHN: What? He’ll draw his gun on you and you will be dead.
ARTHUR: No. No, no. He wouldn’t have a gun.
JOHN (roaring): Why not!?
ARTHUR: He doesn’t know anyone is after him. He wouldn’t, before arriving here, he would’ve wanted to slip in and out and not have anything tying him to Daniel, if he was stopped. (Unintelligible whispers briefly play.) He, he… he was going to kill him with his hands. The way that…
JOHN: The way you would have.
ARTHUR: He won’t stop. (More footsteps.) I need to do something.
JOHN: He’s coming up behind Oscar.
ARTHUR: H-He wants me!
JOHN (arguing): Arthur!
ARTHUR: More than Daniel.
JOHN: No!
ARTHUR: He does. (They push through a door and continue.)
JOHN: No! Arthur, what are you doing? He could have a gun! He could have grabbed one once he found out he was being lied to! Arthur! Just get his attention and run! Let Noel handle it! (Shouting.) Arthur!
ARTHUR (calling out): Butcher!
(The music stops abruptly. Various people cough in the ward.)
COLLINS (at a distance): Well. There’s no friends like the old friends.
JOHN: Run, Arthur! (Slow footsteps.)
ARTHUR: We’re not friends!
COLLINS: Oh, you wound me so!
(Tense violin music begins.)
JOHN: He’s eyeing Oscar and Daniel! Daniel looks terrified.
ARTHUR: It’s me you want, isn’t it?
COLLINS: This is a bold move. Even for you.
JOHN: Oscar hasn’t moved! He’s staying by Daniel’s side.
ARTHUR: Well? (Slow steps.)
JOHN: He’s stepping towards Daniel!
ARTHUR: Hey!
COLLINS: He mean that much to you, does he?
JOHN: Keep him distracted. (More footsteps.)
ARTHUR: Isn’t this what you want?
JOHN: He’s still walking towards Daniel. This isn’t working, Arthur!
COLLINS: What is he to you?
ARTHUR: No one. He’s no one.
COLLINS: Seems like you’re putting quite a lot on the line for no one.
ARTHUR: You’ve… been hired to kill me, Butcher. If I turn tail and run, you don’t –
JOHN (whispering): He’s standing next to Daniel.
ARTHUR: Stop! Stop.Wait.
COLLINS (emphatic): Who. Is. He. To you. (More footsteps.)
ARTHUR: He’s my father. (Sad piano music begins to play.)
COLLINS: Is that so?
ARTHUR (quietly): Yes.
COLLINS: I loved my Da. He didn’t love me, though.
JOHN: He’s staring at Daniel, who looks scared beyond belief. Oscar’s on the opposite side of Daniel. Arthur, he’s –
ARTHUR (cutting him off): Don’t you want to know how I beat you?
COLLINS: Beat me? Beat me implies you’ve won.
ARTHUR: You’re exposed, Butcher. You know that.
COLLINS: For now, maybe. But the war ain’t over. (The shifting of fabric.) And I can bring you one man down.
JOHN: Arthur, he’s brought a scalpel to Daniel’s throat!
(Suspenseful music begins.)
ARTHUR (panicked): Stop! No!
COLLINS (laughing): Listen to you! (ARTHUR: No!) Just like me to my Da. But I wonder… does he love you?
ARTHUR: Leave him out of this, Butcher! Your quarrel is with me. I’m your target, aren’t I? (A pause. Demanding.) Aren’t I?
COLLINS: You were!
ARTHUR: B-But killing him? He’s one in a sea of witnesses. You’re not going to kill everyone here. You’re n… not even you are that good. You had your shot to slip in quietly and end him. But you don’t have that anymore. I’m your target. I’m what you haven’t killed. (Quiet, brief whispers from others in the room.)
COLLINS: You’re not wrong.
ARTHUR: I’m right, and you’ve failed so far.
(A sudden suspenseful music sting.)
JOHN: He’s snapped his eyes to you, Arthur. That bothered him. Failing.
ARTHUR (walking forward): That’s right. Failure.
JOHN: Yes, Arthur! He’s looking at us, talk about that!
ARTHUR (mocking): You had one simple job. Back on the train, for fuck’s sake. You… you really only had to kill one person. God, how badly did you fuck that up.
JOHN: You’re getting to him! I can see his jaw clenched. He hates being called a failure. He still has the knife to Daniel’s throat, but he’s not looking at Daniel anymore!
ARTHUR (condescending): Tell me, Butcher. Do you think you’re washed up, or is it too far beyond your comprehension? Do you need people to tell you, are you too old and feeble to see it yourself?
JOHN: Not old, he doesn’t care! It’s the failure that’s bothering him. Keep going, Arthur! Noel is moving slowly to avoid being heard but he’s almost there!
ARTHUR: You’re a failure, Butcher!
COLLINS (too quickly): You say that like I’m not the one holding a knife to your Dad’s throat!
ARTHUR: And yet I’m over here, still alive and well! (Collins scoffs.) You couldn’t even keep me tied to a chair. Daddy should have taught you how to tie a better knot. (Mocking.) Boyo.
COLLINS (outburst): I’ll cut that fucking tongue out of you if you call me that again!
JOHN: You’re getting to him, Arthur! He’s stepped away. He’s pointing the knife at you.
ARTHUR (laughing): Not used to being called a failure, then? Or maybe too used to it? (Collins scoffs. Coyly.) Is that what… Daddy called you?
JOHN: He’s frantic! You’ve caught him on his heels, Arthur! Keep drawing him away!
ARTHUR: You said I didn’t understand you, but I do. Boyo.
JOHN: He’s taken another step out from Daniel. (More footsteps.)
ARTHUR: Good dog.
JOHN: He’s at the foot of Daniel’s bed, staring daggers at you, and – (Collins scoffs again.) Wait.
ARTHUR: Do I need to whistle?
COLLINS: Whistling’s my game, lad. (Footsteps.)
JOHN: He’s not… he’s heading back to Daniel! (Frustrated.) No!
ARTHUR: Come! Now! Scared of a little – (Sad piano music begins.)
COLLINS: Thought you had me there for a sec. (Fabric shifts. Daniel gasps.) Shame on me.
JOHN: He’s put the knife back to Daniel’s throat!
COLLINS: You don’t fold when you have a royal flush.
ARTHUR (dropping the ruse): Stop! Stop. Stop. What do you want?
COLLINS: I think I’ll just do him here, in front of you. (Daniel pants.) Let you watch your Dad bleed out like I did.
ARTHUR (pleading): Please. Please.
JOHN: Arthur. Noel is a few beds away, but with the Butcher next to Daniel, it’s too dangerous to stop him!
ARTHUR (desperate): What do you want?
COLLINS: I want to watch you squirm as I end this man.
ARTHUR: Then I will squirm!
COLLINS: Is that so?
ARTHUR (firm): Yes.
COLLINS: There’s a fire in you, lad. I saw it when we first met on the train. And I asked you if you were innocent. Couldn’t even answer.
JOHN: Don’t let him get to you.
COLLINS: Are you ready to answer now?
ARTHUR: No one is innocent, Butcher.
COLLINS: No, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? (Fabric shifts.) You’ve taken a life, haven’t you?
JOHN: Arthur, don’t!
COLLINS: More than one.
JOHN (commanding): Arthur, do not let him get to you! Noel is almost there!
COLLINS: Alright, here’s my deal for you, lad! I’ll come over there and finish you myself regardless. But I’ll leave your Da alive if you tell us here. Tell all of us. The truth.
ARTHUR: What truth?
(A short pause.)
COLLINS: How many people have you killed?
(A suspenseful sting of music.)
JOHN: Just lie, Arthur. There’s no –
COLLINS: I want all the people here to know what kind of person you are. I want you to say it out loud. And don’t lie. I’ll know.
ARTHUR (stuttering): I don’t know, I-I-I… I don’t know!
JOHN: He’s pushing the blade into Daniel’s neck. He’s starting to bleed.
ARTHUR: Okay, okay! Okay. Stop.
JOHN: Everyone is looking at you, Arthur. Everyone in the ward.
ARTHUR (quickly): Seven, maybe.
(Faroe’s Song starts to play.)
COLLINS: Seven people? That’s quite the number for someone who claims to be innocent.
ARTHUR: But – But they were accidents. Or, or a result of –
COLLINS: Don’t start doing that. Don’t start making yourself feel better by explaining it away.
ARTHUR: You wanted to –
COLLINS: I want your Da here to know what kind of person you are! So much for not being like me.
JOHN (concerned): Arthur.
ARTHUR: I am not you! I didn’t kill these people on purpose.
JOHN: Arthur, calm yourself.
ARTHUR: O-Or they’ve tried to hurt me, I…
COLLINS: All of them?
ARTHUR: Yes!
COLLINS: All of them?
JOHN: He’s hurting Daniel, Arthur!
ARTHUR: No, not all of them!
JOHN (angry): Arthur!
COLLINS: Who did you kill? Whose life did you take without provocation, without threat? Whose life did you take that was innocent? I want you to say it out loud. I want everyone to hear.
ARTHUR (uncertain): I… I… (Rising suspenseful music.)
COLLINS: Who?
ARTHUR: M-My partner! Parker was –
(Abruptly, something strikes the Butcher and he makes a pained, surprise noise. Noel breathes hard as he continues to strike the Butcher.)
ARTHUR: What?
JOHN: Arthur! Noel has tackled the Butcher! Move! (The sounds of a fight between Noel and Collins.) Get up there!
COLLINS: I’ll kill you!
JOHN: His knife!
COLLINS: I’ll kill you – !
(A final, dull thud.)
JOHN: Oscar!
OSCAR (scathing): You bastard. (Something metal clatters to the floor.)
JOHN: Oscar hit him with a bedpan.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Hey. Well done. (Polite applause from the rest of the ward. Noel handcuffs the Butcher.)
JOHN: The Butcher is down, Arthur! He’s unconscious! Noel has him handcuffed, you did it!
ARTHUR (surprised): Oscar!
DETECTIVE NOEL: Alright, move in! Move in. (The door opens, more footsteps come in.)
ARTHUR: Why didn’t you leave?
OSCAR: You needed me.
ARTHUR: Thank you. Thank you. Noel?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Boys! Come grab this piece of shit.
JOHN: Men are coming in! (Multiple footsteps.) They were just out in the hallway, the police officers! They’re picking up the Butcher. (The shifting of fabric.) Arthur!
DETECTIVE NOEL: Take him downtown. Three men on him at all times. (Arthur breathes in surprise.) He’s a tricky motherfucker.
ARTHUR: You, you did it! Noel, I – I –
DETECTIVE NOEL: Hey. You kept him busy. Well done.
ARTHUR: Thank you, thank you.
DETECTIVE NOEL (awkwardly): Uh… look. I want to speak with you.
ARTHUR: Oh.
DETECTIVE NOEL: When you’re done, okay? Come find me in the lobby downstairs. But I – I think for now, your.. dad needs a moment. (He walks off.)
ARTHUR: Okay. Y-Yeah.
JOHN: Daniel is looking at you, Arthur.
DETECTIVE NOEL (to someone at a distance): Hey. Good job back there.
JOHN: His neck is bleeding, but –
DANIEL: It’s only superficial.
ARTHUR: I’m… I’m glad. H-Here.
DETECTIVE NOEL: I’ll give you two a moment.
DANIEL (awkwardly): That was… quite the, uhm.
ARTHUR (also awkwardly): Yes, yes, look, look, about that, I, uhm. It… in my travels, I-I… I-I never wanted to…
DANIEL: Arthur. I trust… uh. I know that, uh… I can’t, uh. You’re a good man. (A wistful piano melody begins.) Son. My son. (A pat on the back.)
ARTHUR (emotional): Daniel.
DANIEL: There is good in you. No matter what you’ve been through, no matter what circumstances have befallen you. To make you commit such heinous acts, y-you… you are… good. I’ve always known that. And now I… I want you to know that. Don’t think it. Know it. (Daniel sniffs.)
ARTHUR: Thank you. Dad.
DANIEL: Now listen. In my credenza, on the second floor in my study, the top drawer… you’ll find my ring.
JOHN: Ring?
ARTHUR (slightly shakily): Ring?
DANIEL: My Freemason’s ring.
ARTHUR: Of course, yes!
DANIEL: I’ve no idea what’s to come of this, but I trust you to do the right thing.
ARTHUR: I will! Thank you.
DANIEL: Whatever you’re attempting to find… I don’t think you should do it alone.
ARTHUR: I have to. (At a loss.) Daniel, I… I can’t risk…
DANIEL (gently): Listen. You need to start trusting people again.
ARTHUR: I do, I-I…
DANIEL: They may surprise you.
ARTHUR: I’m… trying.
DANIEL (to someone at a distance): Oscar, was it?
OSCAR: Aye.
DANIEL: Yes, yes, Oscar. (Oscar approaches. A melancholy piano melody begins.) Thank you so much for everything.
OSCAR: Of course. Let me grab some things from your house for you and lock up.
DANIEL: Oh! Dreadful. Yes. Please, if you don’t mind.
OSCAR: Not at all.
DANIEL: Perhaps Arthur can accompany you. He’s… looking for a friend right now.
ARTHUR: I… yes. Oscar, if that’s alright, I…
OSCAR: Of course. However, that detective is still looking to speak with you. I’ll wait with your father, and after, you and I will head over. We still have much to chat about.
ARTHUR: Thank you.
DANIEL: Goodbye.
ARTHUR: T-Talk soon, Dad.
DANIEL: Yes.
OSCAR: Go.
(They walk off, through a door.)
JOHN: Arthur… I don’t know if Daniel is right about trusting people. Think about how dangerous that’s been so far. (A small pause.) Arthur?
ARTHUR: Yes! Where is Noel?
JOHN: Well, don’t you think we should –
ARTHUR (frustrated): I don’t know, John! You haven’t exactly been reliable, lately.
JOHN: What do you mean? (They go through another door, keep walking.)
ARTHUR: You know what I mean. You’ve been having… moments. In and out, not recognizing people. If I can’t trust you… I may need others to –
JOHN (a sudden outburst, making Arthur gasp): When haven’t you been able to trust me!? I’ve done nothing but help you!
ARTHUR: Calm down! I’m just saying. Something isn’t right with you, you must sense that.
JOHN (stubborn): I’m fine. (Through another door.)
ARTHUR: You’re not fine. And the more you try to convince me that you’re fine, the more that I am concerned. Look. If I can’t trust you, I can’t trust what is before me. You had trouble while we were running from the Butcher, and that could cost us our lives.
JOHN (emphatic): I am fine.
ARTHUR: You need to get on the same page with me in recognizing that this is a problem.
JOHN: We’re in the lobby. (Arthur sighs.)
ARTHUR: Where’s Noel?
JOHN: By the door to the street. (They approach.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: Well?
ARTHUR: Detective Noel.
DETECTIVE NOEL: C’mon. Buy me a cup of coffee. (He goes through a door.)
ARTHUR: Uh. Alright. (They exit into the sounds of a city: passing crowds, car engines, pedestrians.)
JOHN: He seems… serious. Perhaps admitting to having murdered people wasn’t a good idea.
(Noel and Arthur speak louder, to be heard over the rumble of crowds.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: You did good back there, for what it’s worth.
ARTHUR: Thank you!
DETECTIVE NOEL: So what did you do back in Arkham? (A car drives by, honking lightly. Cautiously.) O-Oh, oh, oh.
ARTHUR: I was, a… private eye, actually.
DETECTIVE NOEL: No shit.
ARTHUR: Yes.
JOHN: He’s taking us across the street. Watch for the curb here. The diner is called… The Black Iris. (They go through a door, to the sounds of a diner: clinking dishware and muffled conversation.) To the right.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Two cups of black coffee, darling. (He squeaks against vinyl.)
JOHN: He’s in a booth. Here!
DETECTIVE NOEL (offended): Hey, hey!
ARTHUR (awkwardly): Uh.
JOHN: Other side.
ARTHUR: Sorry. (He moves to the other side.)
DETECTIVE NOEL: That’s alright, but I prefer to talk face-to-face. So. Arthur Lester. Private eye from Arkham. (Footsteps, the clinking of ceramic.) Thanks, doll.
ARTHUR: Look. What I said back there, it, uh. It isn’t true. Not exactly. I haven’t… I didn’t… kill seven people, I…
DETECTIVE NOEL: Is that so?
ARTHUR (sighing): What is this? What do you want?
DETECTIVE NOEL (wryly): That’s a good question. That’s a good question. What do I want?
JOHN: He’s nodding his head as if questioning himself.
DETECTIVE NOEL: You married?
ARTHUR: No. Not anymore, no. You?
DETECTIVE NOEL: No, never. I had a partner that was, once. Married.
ARTHUR: It didn’t work out?
DETECTIVE NOEL: This line of work can be, uh. Dangerous. You know?
ARTHUR: She died?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Shuffled off this mortal coil.
ARTHUR: What? (Faroe’s Song starts to play.)
DETECTIVE NOEL (teasing): C’mon, you sound smart. You never read Hamlet? They died, both of them. Died.
ARTHUR (awkwardly): No. No, no. Yes, I…
DETECTIVE NOEL: Hey. That’s partners, for you. What happened to yours?
JOHN (threatening): Don’t tell him anything, Arthur.
ARTHUR: My… partner. Uh.
JOHN: Arthur, don’t. Daniel doesn’t know what’s going on. You cannot trust what –
DETECTIVE NOEL: You can trust me.
JOHN: We don’t need him! We don’t need anyone!
ARTHUR: Yes. I killed him. By accident.
DETECTIVE NOEL: How?
ARTHUR (sigh): Through forces unimaginable.
DETECTIVE NOEL: I have an imagination.
ARTHUR: You’ll need a big one.
DETECTIVE NOEL: Try me.
(Faroe’s Song begins again.)
ARTHUR (sigh): Imagine, for a second, I told you that there was more to this world. In fact, so much more that the scale of it would make you feel comparatively insignificant. And that beyond this world, beyond these stars, exists places that one could barely imagine. Places with creatures and gods, forces that view us as meaningless insects. And yet, lavish in our misfortunes, wager on our misdeeds, laugh at our missteps. In these worlds exists power, that to the common man is unfathomable. Abilities akin to… magic, that can control all manner of thing.
And what’s more… there are those here. In our world. Who have uncovered this knowledge and seek to wield a fraction of this power to their own advantage. This power killed my partner. It cursed my sight. And it changed my life. But I’m not telling you this.
Because you already know. Don’t you?
DETECTIVE NOEL (amused): Huh.
JOHN: He’s smiling, with a genuine understanding in his eye.
ARTHUR: Who are you? Really.
DETECTIVE NOEL: I’m a friend, Arthur Lester. Of that, I can promise you.
ARTHUR: Can you?
DETECTIVE NOEL: What are you in New York for?
ARTHUR: I’m here to find the Order of the Fallen Star.
DETECTIVE NOEL: The Order of the Fallen Star.
ARTHUR: Yes. Have you heard of them?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Not yet. Alright. I need to go book your friend the Butcher, but call me tomorrow. I’ll see if I’ve found anything. Sound good?
JOHN: He’s slid a card down on the table. It’s just a number.
ARTHUR: Why?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Let’s just say… we have a mutual friend.
ARTHUR: We do?
DETECTIVE NOEL: A few, maybe.
ARTHUR: Ah. Thank you. Detective… Noel?
DETECTIVE NOEL: Eh, for a while longer, at least. I’ll wait for your call.
JOHN: He’s leaving. (Footsteps.)
DETECTIVE NOEL (calling to Arthur at a distance): And hey! Thanks for the coffee. (The door opens and shuts.)
ARTHUR (chuckling): Seems like we have friends after all.
JOHN: Hm.
(A final click, followed by static.)
(END Part 35.)
