Andrew Keetling is Missing.P1

Hook: Andrew is a businessman and art dealer who works at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Riche has been dealing with Andrew as his art supplier for the last year. In fact, he drives to Boston bi-annually to peruse artwork ordered up before actually having it shipped to his penthouse in Arkham. Thus, he is very familiar with Andrew and his sister Sarah who live together at the Keetling estate on the northside of Boston. Since their parents died a few years ago, they have joint ownership of the mansion as they try to carry-on the long-standing family reputation as quiet and conservative philanthropists. Supporters of charities and civic events.

Jimmy (aka Lance Bass)

Hoplomania: unhealthy obsession with firearms.

Bibliokleptomania: compulsion to take books. His habit is more for keeping them off the streets.

Peter

Pseudomania: compulsion to lie.

Apotemnophobia: fear of people with amputations.

Essie

Basophobia: fear of falling.

Geliomania- compulsion to laugh.

Riche

Hypnophobia: fear of sleep or being hypnotized.

Eisoptrophobia: fear of mirrors. 

Noon Wednesday, 17 Sept, 1924: Claude handed the phone to Riche who recognized Sarah’s voice. “I’m surprised Andrew didn’t call you earlier; your paintings are in for your review. Is it asking too much for you to bring your friends along? The investigative ones you are always telling Andrew about.” [Psychology-fail] Riche didn’t pick up on her quivering voice but did think it an odd request. She sheepishly explained, “Andrew hasn’t been home for over 2-weeks now and the police discount it as a playboy out ‘sowing his wheat’ as they say. What a dreadful thing to say! You know Andrew is socially awkward with woman and not interested. Too involved with the arts. If it’s not asking too much.”

3pm: Peter had his own opinion of jealous family or close friends but was intrigued considering the client was wealthy. Essie- well considering Riche’s description of Sarah; yeah, she went along to keep Peter company. Jimmy looked forward to returning to his roots in Boston. With Claude staying in the penthouse to watch over Riche’s sister Madeleine, Jimmy claimed the limo driver’s seat for the 1.5-hour drive south-southwest.

4:30pm: Alfred (butler) answered their knock and took their coats and hats, “Welcome back Mr. Richelieu. Ms. Keetling is in the library.” Sarah sat with a half-empty drink in front of her. Riche introduced his associates and apologized ahead of time for Peter’s thoroughness and Jimmy’s snooping. “You said something about an argument the day before he went missing. What was that about?” Essie sat beside Sarah as she noticed the pile of tissues and the poor girl’s attempts to look composed. “We share everything 50-50; so, when I found the entry for 3 large checks and asked him about it, Andrew grew angry and refused to discuss matters. He came back later to apologize and explained the paintings he purchased. Ghastly things! He wanted to hang them here in the library, but I made him put them up in his study.”

 As Sarah recounted the 2-week-old events, Peter excused himself to search Peter’s room with Anthony (Andrew’s valet) leading the way. Jimmy also slipped out but focused his search on the rest of the first floor. Essie gave him a stern look as if she evaluated the fit of his clothes to determine if he might pocket the silverware or family jewelry. Sarah continued, “A few months ago, Andrew began associating with a group of young artists hanging around the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. He described one as someone who someday would become recognized as a modern-day master. If she’s the one who composed those horrendous paintings, then Andrew’s taste has definitely changed!”

Finally, Riche asked to see the paintings. Essie followed him to the study where they found one large painting hanging over the desk, another hanging on the opposite wall, and a 3^rd hanging precariously on the bookcase beside the window on the far wall in front of them. 

Essie headed for the desk and thus was drawn to the painting labeled The Dweller in the Void. She puzzled at the humanoid figure suspended in a distorted field of swirling color. The more she looked, the more she noticed the thin, malformed, almost mummified body whose skin seemed to melt as it fell. [Sanity] She couldn’t take her eyes off it… eyes… how the swirling circles seemed to become eyes while the body itself seemed composed of twisted/tortured faces. One face was a reflection of herself! “Ewe!” Essie quickly backed away to compose herself.

Riche was drawn into his own painting, labeled The Watching. He studied the brush strokes, colors, and hues on the coastal mansion under a full moon. {Sanity] Studied too closely: Yeah, he found the artist’s initials (JG). But then all the lights in the windows… one by one, became eyes! Till the mansion itself became a face composed of eyes! Hypnotizing, which triggered Riche’s phobia. He quickly grabbed the painting from the wall and threw it to the floor, cracking the frame and tearing the canvas. Essie reacted to the noise with amplified shudder as she and Riche both described their paintings as “more than meets the eye!”

What compels one to continue the torture? Riche had to look at the other painting with apprehension. At least it was more appealing: labeled Sylvan Night, also by JG, Riche gazed at the blonde-headed woman sprawled nude across a great hewn stone. Pine trees silhouetted the dark sky background. [Sanity] as he gazed at her beauty, he swore he saw the clouds moving and lightning flashes in the sky. And when he returned his focus to her, she looked back with a sultry expression! Riche backed away and deflected the experience by asking Essie, “What did you find in the desk?”

 Meanwhile, Jimmy scoured the place from trashcan to lamp table to fireplace, looking for anything out-of-place or of a mythos taste. The books on the coffee table were your garden-variety: The Great Gatsby, T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, etc. Upstairs, Peter apologized to Anthony, “I’m thorough.” Anthony shuddered at the realization he’d have to clean up the mess as Peter tossed Andrew’s bedroom. He checked under the pillows and pushed the mattress off the springs. He paused at the nightstand with the art binder that was a miniature recreation of various artists’ works. 

While the artists listed in the table-of-content didn’t mean anything to him, the bookmark did: a lover’s note for a rendezvous at the Sailor’s Club, signed by JG.

Peter mused at Riche’s description of Andrew as more asexual (disinterested in women). Peter turned his attention to the closet where he found business clothes. But hanging behind and hidden, he also found more excentric clothing, such as a zoot suit! “No wonder the police labeled you a playboy.” And that’s how he found the Sailor’s Club matchbook in the zoot suit coat pocket.

Essie found the ledger in the top drawer of the desk; she immediately flipped to the last page. [Accounting] It took her awhile to realize the book was divided into various categories (business, home, personal). Under Personal she found the entries for 3 large checks ($100-$150) written to a Josephine Garsetti, with the last dated Aug 25^th. Days before his disappearance on September 2nd!

They reconvened in the library with Sarah who was genuinely surprised by Peter’s revelation of the love letter and one of the zoot suits. “I can’t believe Detective Sargeant Devlin was right about him running off with a girl. Andrew never said anything about a Sailor’s Club and always left the house in a business suit.” Jimmy figured Andrew had another zoot suit in the trunk of his car. Peter suggested, “Perhaps after dinner your maid could alter two of these suits for Riche and Jimmy as this one fits me. We’ll stop at the police station to talk with Devlin then head over to the Sailor’s Club.”

6pm: Peter talked through dinner, ignoring Sarah’s shattered image of her brother. “Maybe we should stop at his work first to see what his associates know of his behavior change or of this Josephine.”

7pm: As they pulled up to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, Andrew’s car wasn’t there. The receptionist didn’t know Josephine and thus called the director, Mr. Bradley Carrier. “You’ll have to ask my assistant (Madelaine DuMort) who handles all the staff.” Peter noticed Madelaine’s concealed displease at the mention of Josephine and displayed his PI badge, “We think she might have something to do with Andrew’s absence.” Essie saw Madelaine’s concerned look and recognized a love interest. As they retreated to Andrew’s office, It didn’t take much prompting to get her to open up.

“I met Andrew a year ago and was attracted to him per his appreciation of one of my favorite paintings by Degas. We talked about art and the simple things. Soon we were having lunch together at least once-a-week before strolling thru the various art sections of the museum. But then a couple of months ago that witch came along and stole Andrew’s attention. Our lunches and strolls tapered off. I don’t know what he saw in her. He even tried to get her hired by passing along her application with referenced study at Boston University. But once I saw her portfolio of her own paintings, I wanted nothing to do with her. And wanted her to have nothing to do with sweet and innocent Andrew.” “Click.” Imagine that: Andrew left his desk drawer unlocked. Jimmy rifled through the drawer and displayed a few more love letters. But he didn’t stop there. Jimmy tossed the desk in tribute to the way Peter worked. The staff didn’t take kindly and escorted them all out. [Sleight-of-Hand] Jimmy’s coat bulged with a thick book hidden inside.

8pm: Back at the Keetling house, the maid had the clothes altered and ready. They decided to wait till 10pm to go to the club, so they settled in the library. And that’s when Riche picked up an old newspaper, “Get a load of this police raid led by detective Devlin. Mentioned the Sylvan Night cult! That was the name of the painting with the woman sprawled on the rock. Almost like a ritual sacrifice. The police killed 12 cultists, captured 2, but let the woman ringleader get away.” Peter changed their plans, We’ve enough time to visit the police station and try to talk to the cult prisoners.”

8:30pm: Peter flashed his PI badge to the desk sergeant, “Is Detective Patrick Devlin around? We want to talk to him about the Keetling case.” Riche added how Sarah had hired them. Detective Devlin sat at his desk lighting a new cigar as he shuffled paperwork. Peter tried to smooth their way in by offering, “I think we have a name for your cult leader: one Josephine Garsetti. And we think she is involved with Andrew’s disappearance. If we could talk to your cult prisoners…” Patrick interrupted, “Unless you can talk with the dead; yeah, we found those two burnt to a crisp inside their cell. No accelerant, blankets and sheets untouched. Just their bodies consumed by fire.” Riche silently pondered Occult books he'd read at the Orne library, trying to remember mention of any spell with such effect.

Devlin offered more about the raid, “We lucked out when one of the members (Andrea Pentargon) turned informant. We have her under police protection with a new name, Myra Smith. She told us when and where their next meeting was to be held and about the sacrifices. Unfortunately, we didn’t arrive in time to save the 6 victims. Here’s pictures.” Peter invited Devlin out of the room for a smoke (possible fear of seeing amputations) to ask about Myra’s address. Meanwhile, Essie and Riche spread out the pictures on the desk and flinched at the brutal images of throats cut, post-mortem mutilation by human bites to the faces. [Occult] Riche hadn’t read anything about a particular cult named ‘The Silvan Nights’, but these throat cuts were common to cult rituals. But biting of the faces?!

[Spot] Since Jimmy was standing near the door and couldn’t see through the bodies around the table, he noticed another detective relaxed, leaning against the outside wall (drawn by his cough). [Psychology] It was obvious the man was eavesdropping. Jimmy watched the man return to his own desk with a nameplate of Detective Dave Flannigan.

As they wrapped up their discussion with Devlin, Jimmy mentioned Flannigan’s interest. Assuming the man felt the case his own and not wanting outside help, Peter strolled toward the detective’s desk and “accidently” knocked over the lamp as he leaned in, “I don’t suppose you have any more info to add.” A macho faceoff with Peter mocking and Dave returning insults. “Let me guess, you couldn’t handle the meager police pay and decided to welch off rich clients. Scum is what you are. Just stay out of my way.” Peter turned with a flare and managed to swing his coattail to knock off Flannigan’s nameplate.  The thrown stapler JUST missed the back of Peter’s head. Peter didn’t even turn around, “Another swing-and-a-miss Davo, I hope you solve cases better than you throw.”

9pm: At least Myra’s address was in the direction of the club, also near the waterfront. Another rundown, destitute apartment. They climbed to the 3^rd floor. While Peter kept watch on the stairs in case Flannigan put a tail on them, Jimmy knocked on the door. Impatient at the silence, he knelt to begin picking the lock. The door opened a crack, stopped by a chain, with Myra spotting Jimmy trying to break in. She immediately slammed and locked the door. They could hear the noise of her moving inside. [STR40- hard] Jimmy stood and shouldered the door: the rotting wood gave way. When he saw Myra climbing out of the window, he rushed in while screaming, “We got a runner.”

While Riche joined Jimmy trying to catch the girl from inside the apartment, Essie followed Peter down the stairs and out the apartment and into the alley. They saw Myra frantically climbing down the fire-escape. Peter held up his badge, “Luckily Detective Devlin told us you might have troubles. Let us get you to safety.” Once Jimmy & Riche saw the others had the woman, they focused on the apartment room. 

At first Jimmy flinched when he saw the picture of a harried woman reaching out of a spinning vortex. He already had visions of it being another Garsetti painting that evoked insanity. But when they also found a Boston University yearbook with pictures of both Josephine and Andrea, Jimmy realized the painting was of Andrea.

[Spot- extreme] But an even better find was the journal inside Andrea’s purse. He read parts of it to Riche, “Starts about 8 years ago with dreams of her in a cave with a voice offering to teach her things. How she won an art scholarship to Boston Univ, guided by the voice to compose the winning artwork.” 

Riche half-heartedly listened as he found his own book on the nightstand, “It’s titled Scriptures of the Riven Valley: old Indian lore about a god commanding humans through their dreams. Mentions an old Martin Garsetti building his house on land shunned by the local Indians.”

Meanwhile, outside, Essie sat with Myra/Andrea in the backseat of the car, calming her. Andrea confided, “I thought they were cult members Josephine sent after me! I met Josephine at Boston Univ as fellow art students. We only lasted a year before dropping out. She and I roomed together and did everything together. We both visited the Sailor’s Club often and even joined the owner at his mansion to party and have a good time. Josephine got into it deeper when Zeke would cut off chicken heads and pour blood over a dark stone that he always kept close by. Then months ago, Zeke dropped out of sight. Next thing I know, Josephine is doing her own rituals with the same dark stone that used to belong to Zeke.”

9:30pm: As Riche and Jimmy exited the room and left the apartment building, Riche had a strange feeling of being watched. He turned to see a shadow on the backside of the stairs. Riche raised his flashlight and edged closer to then realize it was Andrew! “I thought you were dead! What a relief to …” And that’s when Andrew removed his hat to reveal his rubbery gray flesh and pits for eyes as the thing wickedly smiled! 

[Sanity] Riche instantly realized this was a ghoul! He backed up, ready to defend himself with his cane. And that’s when the ghoul’s expression turned to confusion, “Where am I?” Riche asked in reply, “Are you Andrew?” The ghoul responded, “I am the dream of my mistress’s lover, part myself, part Keetling thing, and part something greater than us both.”

Riche called over his shoulder, “Bring some cuffs!” Jimmy could only imagine Riche enthralled by the dead. He readied his pistol as he too called out, “PETER!” Meanwhile, Riche continued backing up, stalling for time as he asked, “Where is your lover?” To which the ghoul replied, “She is in her true home, obeying the One in the Void, dreaming of the future day.” And with that, the ghoul’s expression turned wicked again as it put on its fedora and turned to leave. Jimmy took a shot while Peter rushed in to tackle the thing. His intent was to grab it around the waist. Except: the ghoul turned into a silvery mist that flowed down a nearby manhole cover. Peter was left grasping for air: he slammed to the pavement coming away with bruised arms (3 damage).

TO BE CONTINUED: https://wjr5oakley.blogspot.com/2024/05/andrew-keetling-is-missingp2.html