Douglas Henslowe's Journal

Henslowe's Journal Takes us to LA

November 5^th (late that evening)

The group of us reunited that evening in Erik’s suite, to see what progress he had made with the journal.  Not wishing to meddle with things he didn’t understand, the answer was: not much.  The journal was protected by a stone bearing the evil eye.  Otto, our resident expert in all things of the occult examined it briefly, but was undeterred – reaching into the box to retrieve a letter, the journal, and a key.

Journal page 11

The note and key were a most unexpected but welcome surprise.  If only the contents of the box might shed more light upon the case.  All of those involved seem quite in agreement about the nature of their collective venture, and invested in the reality that there is some other-worldly power involved.  Mr Henslowe again here refers to a creature, one which many of them believe(d) truly exists (and is both evil and powerful).  I have to agree with Dr Keaton in finding the shared delusion intriguing, and look further to unravelling this mystery further.

Otto, who will be leaving tomorrow for a venture northwards (to the Arkham library), departs for the evening.  He has promised to update our patron, Mrs W-R.  The remainder of us, however, stayed put took turns sleeping, reading and analysing Henslowe’s journal into the wee hours.  Sadly, there was little of consequence within its pages.  I gleaned two items  of interest: “Vincent – Room 225” and “BA airfield 11^th 10pm”.  Of the former’s meaning we remain ignorant, perhaps a reference to his flat or hotel room number at the time.  Of the latter, we can guess this is the date the group gathered for their flight to Los Angeles, since we (until proven otherwise) are working with the assumption the incident occurred on the 13^th.

The remainder of the journal was a collection of sketches and rambling thoughts.  At the beginning, these are of his fellow investigators – towards the end turning to the violent occurrences, the cult, and the creature.  Another glimpse into the troubled mind of Douglas Henslowe, with troubling detail – but of little use to us.

November 6^th (Tuesday)

The next morning, we prepared to leave for Los Angeles.  Quincy dealt with the wrecked rented vehicle.  The damages cost us $70 (I must remember to include this in my expenses to Mrs W-R).  Erik and I went to the library to look up Mr Loman, but to no avail.  Chastity went ahead to the airport to ready Frank and the plane.  After our various errands, we checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to the airport.  Before taking off, we made one more attempt at breaching the identity of the mysterious Daniel Loman. 

Journal page 12

We did find the airport check-in staff rather helpful.  A flash of the badge (I’d forgotten how effective that can be; and in fairness a Federal Agent was assaulted in a hit-and-run incident, even if she was off-duty at the time) and a bit of truth was all it took for the clerk to spill the details about our foreign attackers. 

Our silent assailants were ticketed to catch flights from Savannah to New York, then to Nova Scotia, on to Ireland, and eventually to Bangkok, confirming Otto’s theory that the tattoos associated them with Thailand.  These tickets were, indeed, paid for by a Daniel Loman.  The clerk further confirmed the group (or some group which looks similar, possibly some of the same and some different each time) are monthly visitors, using five very artificial Caucasian pseudonyms.

Feeling certain there was nothing more we could learn on the subject at the time, we returned to the Silver Sable and flew off towards Los Angeles.  Chastity and Frank stopped us in Oklahoma for a refuel.  I slept, although I rather wish I hadn’t, as I had an unusually disturbing dream – a nightmare, even, if one were to define it.  I dreamt I was a patient at Joy Grove, bound by a straight-jacket and legchains; treated by Nurse Bethany (unlike the charming young woman who was so helpful to us, she bore two toothy, grinning mouths beneath a surgical mask) who threatened me with a syringe bearing a toothless mouth of its own.  The experience is one I hope not to repeat, lest this investigation turn me into an insomniac. 

At last we reached sunny Los Angeles, whose weather was far more welcoming than muggy Georgia.  After much debate about where it would be most convenient to stay, we checked into The Michelangelo Hotel in the city centre (leaving the Silver Sable and her pilot Frank in Glendale).  Over lunch we discussed our options, then once more split up to follow various leads.  Erik and I visited the local paper, and were referred to one Arnold Freeman, a pressman who would have been with the paper in 1924.  Mr Freeman recalled the incident, and mentioned that a B-movie actor, “Dicky Spend” (star of The Vampire Mystery) was stabbed to death in the incident.  He helped us find a single article, which was merely about the death of this celebrity – citing the cause of death as “natural”. 

Journal page 13

I jotted a few notes from the article:

Richard Spend, age 32.  Missed the Young Actresses Debut Ball (had taken a full-page ad which merely said “Thanks, Livvy. – Richard Spend” (referring to his co-star Olivia Clarendon from “The Black Cat”.  Contracted by Universal for next project “Phantom of the Opera”.

Mr Freeman recommended we try Filmland Express to delve deeper, that they would have been more likely to cover such a sensational event.  

The Henslowe Estate

November 4th (Sunday) - continued

The nurse, Bethany Hampton, is sent to retrieve the patient files for us, and we are given records to peruse for both Douglas Henslowe and Edgar Job.  According to the receipts, Edgar Job’s treatment (at least initially) was paid for by the Henslowe Estate.  Considering the two men claim to be enemies, the fact takes our interest.  Could Mr Henslowe have paid for them out of some sense of grief, shame, or penitence?  There is also a note that Edgar Job has failed to get in touch with George Avery, a Professor at UCLA.  This might be a potential lead for us, if George could be found and interviewed. 

Along with the files, we found notes that indicated the esteemed Dr Keaton is writing a book which features the shared-delusion of the two patients.  Could his personal professional interest in the case convince him to suppress evidence from us, a vital piece of the story, or have tainted either Henslowe’s or Job’s recollections of the event?  The Joy Grove Sanitarium may warrant a second visit at a later date.  Perhaps to visit the head doctor, Dr Teak, before he retires.

Most helpfully, however, we found a reference to a date within the patient files.  These records indicated that “the incident” may have occurred on August 13^th (1924, of course), which is the first time we’ve seen or heard a specific date mentioned.  We also find that it was in January 1934 that Douglas Henslowe voluntarily re-admitted himself to the Sanitarium. 

Journal page 7

After an all-too brief chance to peruse the notes and files, Dr Keaton terminated our visit and Professor Wolf and I returned to the hotel to compare notes with the others.  Unfortunately, my colleagues’ visit had not proved as productive.  Upon their arrival at the Henslowe Estate, the pair were turned down at the gate for lack of an invitation.  Fortunately, having acquired just such an invitation from Mr Henslowe himself, we would be able to make a return trip the next day. 

November 5^th (Monday)

Four of us drove off in the car rental the following morning to the Henslowe Estate (we were missing the PI, who was under the weather in his room - likely from an overindulgence of drink).  Chastity drove, and Erik – who had been there before – navigated us successfully there.  The weather was muggy, but the mossy trees were a welcome sight – altogether different from what we see daily in the capitol.  The house itself, however, was completely unwelcoming, with a six foot wall capped in iron spikes.  The iron gateway was eventually opened for us, by the keeper John Currothers (and his dogs, which included Bullet, and Spike).  

Mr Currothers was an older man in a threadbare, plaid shirt, who wore big boots (which looked fairly appropriate, given the aged and neglected state of the grounds).  Mr Currothers had also never heard of a Frank Hickering (which we later understood).  He warns us that there might be gators lurking around (which proved true, to my dismay).  The mansion itself is a tall, classic plantation house, in a much better state than the rest of it.  The driveway itself was cracked, and we could see what must have been the keeper’s cottage off to one side (the third dog, lazing about out front was a strong clue). 

All around were ruins and remains of antebellum buildings, sinking into what was rapidly becoming a swamp.  But the mansion itself was a large, white building with a greenish hue (no doubt from the moss and mud which dared creep up its proud visage).  Inside, there was just as much sign of neglect.  The gothic entry hall was dark with a worn rug, which smelled of damp (and cat litter?).  We saw several rooms briefly, given a short and no-nonsense tour, of a living room, den, dining room, and porch.  Upstairs we would find Mr Henslowe’s bedroom and study, but we were strictly warned not to bother Mrs Henslowe. 

Journal page 8

We complied with Mr Currothers’ request and made a thorough investigation of Douglas Henslowe’s study.  We found little enough of interest, but for a few stray supplies on and near his desk (all of which, we later determined, were of importance to finding the journal, through the carefully laid treasure-hunt Mr Henslowe had set).  Eventually, we determined that the seemingly innocuous group of objects (blue ink and a dried, stained brush, a ball of twine, a mud-encrusted shovel, a camera with no film, and a flashlight) were all key to the investigation. 

The first clue, however, fell from a book – the one Otto had mentioned, written by Frank Hickering, called “Communion Rights of Victorian Death Cults”.  A picture of the Henslowe family home spilled out, with a set of clues (coordinates) on the back (and also one on the front, as we later discovered).  Using these various clues we (after some confusion) managed to find a box containing what we expect is Douglas Henslowe’s journal.  (It was buried out in the old family cemetery, between graves, on a carefully plotted “X”.)

In addition to the prized discovery, we noted markings in Henslowe’s study (generally where the wallpaper was peeling) resembling eyes, the evil eye which is said to ward off evil.  We expect this is what Douglas meant when he said we should look for his symbols of protection.  None are a proper spell, Otto told us, just a mark (he certainly does seem to know a bit on the subject, to whatever end.) 

As we retrieved the box, with gators circling in nearby and the rain – which had long ago begun to all – now falling harder, we decided to make an exit, and retreated to the rented sedan, with only the briefest of polite goodbyes to Mr Currothers .

Journal page 9

We hadn’t long left the drive of the Henslowe Estate, however, when it became clear we were being followed.  I allowed the car plenty of room to pass, hoping I was wrong, but instead we were met with a hard slam to the car.  Fortunately, only the vehicle itself was damaged and we escaped (relatively, but for a bump to Erik’s head) unscathed. 

Five men exited the vehicle, which had now prevented us from driving off.  Some were white and some Asian; they wore Fedoras and vests (dressed down in the heat, no doubt), which showed off an abundance of unusual tattoos (which Otto later told us seem to be Thai).  The rain was sheeting down.  They spoke no English to us, but one did speak in a language none of us knew.  One passed a note to Otto, then they all got back into the car and left. 

The note read: “Drop this case. Go Home.” And was on a torn bit of stationary, which some of my colleagues later gleaned was of The Gastonian hotel, here in Savannah.  Leaving the injured Erik behind to rest, and examine our treasure, the three of us (Chastity, Otto, and myself) booked dinner at The Gastonian to do a bit of reconnaissance.  And to show that we were undeterred from our course.  I didn’t have time to consider objecting, as we needed to leave almost immediately, and so we found ourselves enjoying the hospitality of The Gastonian for an evening out.

Having made little plan, it was no real surprise that our first few attempts at raising some information on our terrorists failed.  We did learn, however, that the group had indeed spent some time at the hotel and had now checked out.  Further questioning, and the probably misuse of my badge once more, gleaned us a bit more information.  The group has been seen in Savannah from time to time over the past couple of years.  When they stay it is generally for 3-6 weeks at a time, and their most recent stay was funded by a Daniel Loman.  The group had checked out this morning, and had their bags sent on to the Savannah airport this afternoon.  They could be anywhere by now. 

Interview with Edgar Job

INTERVIEW WITH EDGAR JOB:

Edgar Job smelled of cigarettes and mouthwash.  Dr Keaton granted Mr Job a crumpled, green packet of Lucky Strikes (which we later learned are his favourites).  He lit one and sat quietly before he spoke. 

Edgar referred to the cult as “Echavarria’s people” (they didn’t really use the word “cult” themselves).  He met Echavarria at UCLA, introduced by one George Avery.  Echavarria thew the best parties, focused on sex and drugs, and Mr Job claims he was basically high from 1923 through August 1924. 

Echavarria gave them ideas of things to say, things out of books.  He had a whole library of books – creepy books.  He made them promises of power, said they “would get whatever they wanted in the new time”, “when Golgarath was here” (“the Fisher from outside”).

It wasn’t what Edgar Job wanted – he just wanted the sex and drugs.  But then “things got serious”.  He referred to the incident, that night at the barn.  He went on to describe Vincent Stack’s assault upon the group with a shotgun, and his murder of Echavarria (as a shotgun to the belly).  In retaliation, Mr Job “gutted” Mr Stack with Echavarria’s knife. 

(He admits it, “knows it was wrong”, but can’t undo it.  Believes, like the doctors say, he should just move on.) 

Mr Job continued about that night – saying the summoning worked, alright.  Echavarria put spells on them, on him at least (he assumes that meant he was important somehow), just before the Fisher turned up.  He described the creature as having long arms, no head, but lots of mouths.  He couldn’t quite make it out, as he was too busy screaming.  Whatever they summoned, it wasn’t what they promised or what Echavarria expected.

He doesn’t know if anyone got away that night.  Except Mr Henslowe, that is.  Since he believed Mr Henslowe wanted him dead, he came after him first. 

(Following this, Dr Keaton terminated the interview.)

Interview with Douglas Henslowe

INTERVIEW WITH DOUGLAS HENSLOWE:

Mr Henslowe was brought into the room clean shaven, with good posture, if in the need of a good haircut.  He is an older man and a bit out of shape, which is unsurprising. 

He was a bit fuzzy on some details (probably a result of the continual medication, and therapies which encourage him to both discourage and deny the occurrences), beginning with that there were 4 or 5 of them total, who travelled the country on the trail of a cult they had discovered.  He quite proudly described their merry band as true investigators, questioning people and gathering evidence, even taking pictures “like detectives”. 

Mr Henslowe described the group as “armed” with secret knowledge of the occult, and found it a terribly exciting time.  Mr Winston, he describes, as a businessman, who made good money, and acted as their leader.  It was Walter who gathered them together, to battle the perversity of this cult.  Mr Henslowe repeatedly referred to Walter Winston as “a good man”, whilst also expressing his disappointment that Mr Winston had abandoned him, left him here, and cut off all communication. 

He said their group “followed the drugs” (their method for tracking the cult) all the way to Los Angeles, where they conducted the bulk of their investigation.  He said LA was also “where everything terrible happened” (i.e., the location of the incident), where it “all went wrong”. 

In addition to Mr Winston, they were also accompanied by one Vincent Stack aka “the fixer”, who came in gun first and liked to drink.  Mr Stack was the one who waded in with a shotgun and “brought Hell” to some of those cultists.  They were also accompanied by a Katherine Clark, a “sharp girl” and archivist – the camerawoman who took most of their  notes.  She hated the idea that something like that cult could exist, in the underbelly of America.  She got close enough to take photographs – and it was she who figured out what would be happening that night “at that barn”.  According to Mr Henslowe, she died that night. 

The fifth member (now we know) was an F.C. Kullman, known far and wide as an occult expert, an American who did a lot of his own digging.  He was the man we’d heard referred to as in a wheelchair, and – according to Mr Henslowe – also died that night.  Douglas described F.C. Kullman as being stuck in a wheelchair, but with a real can-do attitude; and unfortunately a sitting duck during the incident.

Walter, he said, was the brains; he and Kullman did the research about what they were planning (“the summoning”), and figured they were using the drug money to fund their operation.  They determined that the cult was planning to summon some dreadful thing with a thousand mouths (or some incarnation of it) in the barn that night.  Walter had also said something about “the stars being right” that night.

When they rushed in, they were surprised at just how many cultists were there.  But they were “prepared” (with bombs and guns) to save the world.  Then came the horrific fire, the shootout, and “that thing” began tearing people apart.  He confessed to shooting some people that night, that in the heat of a moment like that you forget they’re still people.

And then “the thing came for us”.  Walter panicked, he saw it in his face.  And so Douglas ran.

Mr Henslowe confirmed he’d written it all down in a journal, and hidden it away with a secret key.  He gave us permission to retrieve it, and a letter for Frank Hickering (of whom Dr Keaton had never heard) whom he said we should contact at his mother’s estate.  He remembers spending some time there (the timing does correspond with letters and references to the journal), and seems to recall some unpleasant memories of that time.  His mother, he said, would not have fond memories of his last visit. 

The last bit we got from Mr Henslowe was a reference to symbols of protection.  He said to check the walls, that you have to know how to put the symbols there. 

Might this explain the strange symbols in Walter Winston’s office?  I’m certainly intrigued to investigate these symbols further.

The Investigation Begins

November 2^nd (Friday)  

The remainder of the investigative team met me for an overnight in Virginia, and were perfectly punctual in their arrival.  I still have much to learn of each of them, but as every hour passes we become a bit more comfortable in each other’s company.  We have a catch-up over dinner, and I learn the following from their exploits in the Boston area.

We’ve been given:

1.        A letter to Mr Winston’s doctor giving us permission to access notes from his file.

2.      A catalogue of his belongings which were sold off. (This was verified by Erik, who handled the auctions through his consultation service.)

Mr van Achthoven has met with Dr Udko, Mr Winston’s therapist and learned the following:
 

§  Mr Winston let the Dr go after his wife’s death

§  The doctor, who was less interested in the incident itself than in the results of his psychosis/suffering, had no luck in breaking down the walls.  Mr Winston simply refused to speak about it and had put up many mental barriers, preventing the Dr from getting through.  He alluded to an incident in 1924 and a loss, but never gave any names.

Journal page 4
  

§  Mr Winston had certainly been shocked by something, and was suffering in a manner similar to returning soldiers.

§  Mr Winston experienced rages and ranted about a need to “purge the filth around him”.

§  The Dr recommended he make a journal, but Mr Winston never wanted anything written down.

§  The Dr always went to the house, as Mr Winston only felt safe at “his family home”.

Mr van Achthoven, Mr Wolf and Mr O’ Neill visited the family home and learned the following:

§  Mr Winston experienced terrible rages (“get the filth out”; “this place must be cleansed”) according to one house servant

§  The pair observed strange stains in the library/study on the wallpaper, alike but in different position.  It has possibly been cleaned as it seemed faded.

Mouth image from Walter Winston's study wallpaper

The wallpaper itself, when they showed it to me, looked merely like old staining.  But the sketch, made my Mr O’Neill, on the other hand, looked just as they had described it – resembling a mouth.  Creepy. 

November 3rd (Saturday)

Early today we flew on to Savannah.  The plane is remarkably comfortable, as is the hotel Mrs W-R booked for our stay in Georgia, the Hotel De Soto (in suites, of course).  Mr Wolf took some time out to order a summer suit, as it is unseasonably warm, even for the deep South, and the Europeans have only the limited luggage they were able to bring over on the zeppelin. 

The Hotel deSoto

Journal page 5

We researched the two addresses we found in Mr Henslowe’s letters.  We learned the first,

23 Old Hope Road, 

is the Henslowe Family mansion and grounds.  Located 13 miles south of the main city, the land has been in the family since 1801, and is still home to a Virginia Henslowe (whom we’ve learned since is Douglas’s mother).  The land is an unusual estate – a peninsula, which is occasionally an island during times of heavy rains, known as Moss Island Peninsula.  Like most plantations of the area, the land isn’t nearly as valuable or busy as it would once have been, but it’s nice to see one kept in the family – so few were, really.

The second address, 

513 W. Henry Street, 

turned out to be the location of Joy Grove Sanitarium – which wasn’t much of a surprise, really, other than that we expected the two addresses to be opposite in their disposition based on the dates and frequency of the letters’ origins.  The sanitarium is only about 40 years old, and located in an old Antebellum Hospital, not far from town. 

November 4^th (Sunday)

The evening before, Mr Wolf and I decided to pay a visit to the Sanitarium, to see Mr Henslowe’s doctors.  After a lengthy discussion with our peers about what strategum to use to retrieve the journal, and anything Mr Henslowe could possibly share with us, we decided I would use my FBI credentials to try to get ahold of patient files and as much of the story as was feasible from his doctors.  It worked, mostly.  They did ask to follow up on my credentials, and I’ve given them George’s phone to call.  I hope he’ll understand, in consideration of my great curiosity, and our long-standing friendship.

We there met a Dr Keaton, who joined the staff of the sanitarium in 1924, and therefore has been present for the entirety of Mr Henslowe’s treatment.  Before long, we learn that Mr Henslowe is not the only patient here of interest to us – a surprise indeed!  There is also a man here called Edgar Job, who was also involved in the cult business and the incident. 

From Dr Keaton, we glean a little of what was going on.  Mr Henslowe, and his companions (including Walter Winston) were hunting down a cult.  A cult in which Edgar Job was involved.  The two men hate each other.  Mr Job came from Los Angeles specifically to confront Mr Henslowe, there was a fight which turned nasty and involved a knife. 

Journal page 6

Both men were arrested, and before long found themselves interred here at the Joy Grove Sanitarium.  After Mr Wolf had an unexpected, disturbing and unprovoked confrontation with another patient (he was bitten by a Mr Culver), we were able to interview both men.

(see enclosed interviews)

Following the interviews, Dr Keaton invited us back to his office, where we hope to review the patient files.  In the course of the interview with Douglas Henslowe, he gave us a letter to take to his mother’s estate.  The letter is addressed to a Mr Frank Hickering, and grants us permission to retrieve the journal. 

An Interview with Janet

October 31^st  (Wednesday) 

I have conducted some minor investigations into the Mrs Winston-Rogers, her father, and his company.  Nothing particularly alarming has turned up.  George tells me that he mostly lost touch with Mr Winston in 1924 when the latter retired from business; but that on one occasion Walter had re-emerged and asked about forensics – specifically how to trace documents.  George had sought no further details, not wishing to intrude, but had been curious at the time.  There is no agency file on Janet , but Mr Winston’s business was (not unusually) investigated for possible criminality or tax fraud (as were many above a certain level of income). 

I arrived at the hotel in New York last evening and spent the day acclimating to the bustling city.  I was informed a car would arrive at 6pm, which it did quite promptly.  I was surprised to find myself travelling with three others, two gentlemen and a “lady” (I use the term loosely, in the manner I imagine she would prefer).  We spoke little on the drive, and I have much yet to learn of them.  All three are European, and travelled over on the same zeppelin, but do not seem to have become more then acquaintances.

The drive took us 45 minutes to depart the city, and an additional 45 minutes to reach the Floyd Bennet [air] Field.  There was one set of floodlights (attracting large moths) surrounding a single open hangar door.  A single airplane sat unassumedly nearby the little posh sitting lounge set in the hangar.  We were seen from the car by men in white gloves (a nicely planned detail designed, no doubt, to leave an impression). 

We there met a fifth gentleman invited like ourselves, and Mrs Janet Winston-Rogers, a beautiful woman in her forties, blonde and polished.  Mrs W-R apologized for all the mystery, and we were introduced to Richard, the head of her service, who conducted the research to select each of us.  She repeats to us that all of this is to do with her father, the late Mr Walter Winston. 

Mr Winston invested in hospitals during the war, and those which continued to treat recovering soldiers long after.  After he’d made his fortune, Mr Winston spent a few years travelling the world and developed an interest in local folklore – which blossomed into an interest in the occult.

It was then his family began to notice a change in Mr Winston.  He became focused on “battling something”.  She didn’t understand it, nor would he speak of it to his family, but the obsession went far from unnoticed.  When Mr Winston wasn’t travelling, he held secret meetings with people she and her mother didn’t know.  Her mother didn’t like it, couldn’t understand it, and began to drink heavily.  Mrs Winston passed in 1932.

In 1924, Mr Winston travelled more and more, most of that year “on the trail of bad people”. He would be gone for months at a time.  At this time, the German gentleman who had accompanied us interjected and showed Mrs W-R a list of books being researched particularly in 1924, but she did not recognize any of the titles.  What remains of Mr Winston’s collection of books are held here in this hangar.  None of us were able to pick out any of particular interest: most were reference books, but a few did have a similar theme of folklore and even occult fantasies.  Historic nonsense, really.

When Mr Winston returned in 1924 from his final trip he burned what she assumes were the more interesting titles, along with any journals, notes, and travel documents.  He was changed once more, and held no more secret meetings.  He was unwell, jumped at shadows, and even sought the help of a psychologist (mostly in his own home we understand).  He never spoke of his travels, however, or of what he feared.  The only words he would speak on the subject were “nothing mattered anymore”. 

Mrs W-R found a bundle of letters after her father’s passing, all from a Douglas Henslowe.  She believes he may have been one of those strange men who attended her father’s secret meetings.  She does not believe he ever responded, and has provided us with the letters.  Among those who frequented the meetings there was a man in a wheelchair, and maybe two other men and two women.  The letters continued to come after her father passed.  She does not believe there was anything unnatural about his death, but wants to know what her father was mixed up in, and whether there’s any remaining danger.

Mrs W-R has offered us each a stipend to look into the mystery, as well as the use of her plane and reasonable resources at her disposal.  We are to deal with Richard directly, and she will provide us (per our request) a few letters of introduction. 

After an inspection of the plane and wrapping up a few more details, my new colleagues and I made some brief arrangements.  The four of them would travel to the Boston area to visit the family home, and I to Virginia to put my affairs in order.  We will meet up at a hotel in Virginia on November 3^rd at 6pm, and travel from there to Savannah.  We hope to meet with Mr Henslowe, himself, and/or Mr Henslowe’s doctor, and further hope to obtain the journal.

* * * * *