Killer in the Wind - Chapter Five

After facing another close call with death, Tripp is gifted some much-needed help in his case as Lark returns from Chicago. Together, with a clearer picture of the killer beginning to emerge, they find new evidence giving insight into the perpetrator’s possible motives. And Arlo harkens back to another historic case that shares mysterious parallels with the attacks happening in Stanfield.

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NOCTURNUM COLLECTIVE – SEASON ONE 

Killer in the Wind – Chapter Five

Written by Karl White

NARRATOR (OPEN): There are constants that endure in the known world. Space, time, energy, matter. Physical and scientific laws constraining us to this existence. But there's a current below the surface. Contrary to the explainable, it's where the unknown resides, where meaning and form collide with the abstract, where shadows hold dominion…Enter the Nocturnum Collective.

(MUSIC – opening sequence)

NARRATOR: Killer in the Wind, Chapter Five, written by Karl White.

(MUSIC – tense)

NARRATOR: A steady balance of blue and red, pulsating intervals of bright light, a visual conveyance of urgency, the flashing lights from police cars pulling up to the scene…Tripp on his knees in the ditch stares at his hands. His gun is in the grass in front of him, and Arthur Leary's lifeless body lies 15 feet away or so.

(SFX – police sirens)

NARRATOR: Around the precarious tableau, state police hurry from their cars, guns drawn, responding to reports of what went down. Tripp watches it all, as if a spectator, though he's anything but. And for the second time in his life, he's come face to face with his own mortality, escaping by the thinnest razor's edge…Since the incident with Gino Corso, Tripp has struggled mightily with his confidence, his nerve, feeling like only a shell of his former self. But faced with another perilous life or death situation, something happened. He couldn't explain it if he tried. He needs time to think it through, explore it with deep contemplation and analysis…But there was something deep down, letting him know he's not alone.

(SFX – reporters chatter)

NARRATOR: Outside of the Stanfield Sheriff's Station, a horde of reporters. They're seeking information on one of the biggest news stories unfolding. The lead FBI agent on the case holds an impromptu press conference.

(SFX – camera shutters/press conference)

FBI AGENT: At approximately 6:15 p.m., a county sheriff shot and killed Arthur Leary, perpetrator of the Chicago bombings.


NARRATOR: In the station, state police, FBI, and ATF agents congregate. Tripp sits in his office, a blanket around him, still reeling from what went down. Arlo is at his side, while Captain Verin, head of the state police, looks at a line of photos on the wall.

CAPTAIN VERIN: Through our investigation, we discovered Arthur Leary's daughter had a rare autoimmune disease, and was tragically denied a life-saving treatment through medical insurance. Lawyers ended up steering Leary wrong, and he lost everything…It's a system stacked against the little guy. But this time, the little guy knew how chemistry and electrical engineering could level the playing field…But you stopped him. You're a hero, Sheriff Ellis, and we, the entire state, owe you a debt of gratitude.

NARRATOR: Verin stops at an old picture of Edwin and Arlo with Clyde Carver, the Stanfield Butcher, in custody.

CAPTAIN VERIN I remember when you caught Carver. Arlo, what was that line you said to the reporter?

NARRATOR: He's referring to a well-known moment that lives on as part of that case. In the apex in the pursuit of the Stanfield Butcher, news reporters, deducing something big was going down via frantic radio calls over their police scanners, descended on the barn where the killer was captured…And as Deputy Arlo Ellis, wounded from his encounter with the butcher, was escorting a subdued Clyde Carver out in handcuffs…A savvy young reporter asked the lawman what his message was to the general public, who'd lived under constant fear in the preceding months…Arlo, in a great deal of pain from knife wounds, but still keyed up with adrenaline, looked at the TV camera and harkened back to some cop show he probably watched in his youth, uttering the first thing that came to mind, which was...

YOUNG ARLO: (on TV) Crime can’t hide from the long arm of the law.

NARRATOR: And the rest, as they say, is history.

CAPTAIN VERIN I hear you're dealing with some unique murders at the moment. I spoke with our friends outside, whatever you need, the Bureau and ATF are at your disposal.

NARRATOR: Tripp's quiet, still in his own head. So Arlo jumps in, speaking up.

ARLO: We're in desperate need of forensic testing. We could certainly use more feet on the ground.

CAPTAIN VERIN Done. Anything else?

TRIPP: There's a Chicago detective who is assisting us. We'd like her here.

NARRATOR: As he says it, as if manifesting it by his own words, Tripp spots Lark through his office window, making her way through the thick crowd of cops. They see each other through the glass.


(SFX – fire crackling)

NARRATOR: Out in the country, away from the city lights, a blanket of bright, twinkling stars and a hint of the milky way can be seen. Tripp, Lark and Deputy Liston sip beers and sit around a roaring fire pit, listening to Arlo's spin tales of the past.

ARLO: His mom and I are panicked, going house to house. Tripp hasn't been seen for hours. So I'm thinking the worst, right? I come back here to grab my radio, to call in the cavalry. That's when I find him in the garden, stuck in the mud, up to his knees, eating cherry tomatoes off the vine, like a starving wretch. He's been yelling for help all afternoon, but we just thought he'd wondered off.

TRIPP: All right, I think everybody's heard enough embarrassing stories about me.

NARRATOR: But having had one too many, Arlo has a gleam in his eyes.

ARLO: To my son, if your last name is Ellis, crime can't hide from us.

NARRATOR: Everyone raises their beer except Tripp. Then Arlo goes off on another tangent.

ARLO: 1986, everything changed that summer...

NARRATOR: Tripp gives a quiet, frustrated sigh at another one of his father's stories.

ARLO: The Butcher had killed twelve women in six months. Snatched them in parking lots, leaving them strewn about in pieces. The town was on edge. Possies were patrolling, men dressed as women, hoping the killer would try and grab them.

LISTON: When I was a kid, my mom told me everybody kept their doors unlocked before the butcher. But after...

ARLO: I chased Carver to what used to be Lee's Pig Farm, north of town. I had him cornered in the barn, but I lost my gun. I will never forget his eyes. That man was the definition of pure evil.

NARRATOR: Tripp's mind sees Gino's possessed, hate-filled eyes. Then Arthur Leary's.

ARLO: He came at me. I took a knife to the flank. He sliced my arm deep. But I didn't blink. I had him when my dad came in.

NARRATOR: Arlo is fixed on the dancing flames of the fire, reliving something long ago.

ARLO: It's in our blood, you know. Facing the worst of the worst.

NARRATOR: But Tripp abruptly stands and heads inside. Arlo shakes it off, unsure what it was that he said.


(SFX – steps descending stairs)

NARRATOR: Tripp goes down to the basement. He paces, wanting to rage, but he's not sure at what, or even why. A moment later, Lark descends the staircase. She walks over and stands with Tripp. A moment of silence. Then...

TRIPP: What my dad was saying out there...I'm no hero.

LARK: You did what a whole city couldn't.

TRIPP: I don't think it was me. I mean, I was just reacting.

LARK: Every cop feels like that in the heat of the moment.

NARRATOR: Lark walks around, having never been in Tripp and Arlo's space. There are some old family pictures hung. She looks at one of Tripp as a young child, with his parents, together. It makes her smile.

LARK: What happened to your mom? Your dad really never talked about her. Just said that she passed years back.

TRIPP: She died in a car accident when I was a kid.

LARK: That was difficult, huh?

TRIPP: It was life-altering. But that's an old scar.

LARK: I'm sure you miss her.

TRIPP: Every day. But she's been gone so long, I can't even begin to fathom what life would be like with her here now.

NARRATOR: Turning from the photos, Lark looks at Tripp. She'd think the reminiscing would bring a tear to his eyes, but he seems on edge.

LARK: Are you doing okay?

TRIPP: I don't know.

LARK: You've been through something so traumatic, and now this. It's okay to admit that your life probably feels upside down.

TRIPP: It does. I don't really know who I am anymore.

LARK: I think you're doing pretty damn good, given what you've been through. But there's nothing wrong with admitting that you're not okay. No one would fault you for that…When we first met, I assumed a lot of things about you. I admit, I was wrong.

TRIPP: No, you weren't. But I'm trying.

NARRATOR: More quiet…They stand in close proximity, man and woman, looking at each other. The Tripp of old would have pounced on the vulnerability of the moment to satisfy whatever carnal desires he had, whether he felt anything for her or not. But right here, right now, with Lark, he's not going to do that…He respects her, and what he himself is becoming.


(MUSIC) 

NARRATOR: Bright and early the next morning, a renewed energy surrounding the Nightshade case…At the Sheriff's Station, coffee and donuts are on the table, as Tripp addresses a room full of reinforcements, Chicago police, state troopers and cops from other counties, along with Phil, Oscar and others, all there to lend a hand. Lark passes out brightly printed images of the flowers Ava identified, used in the making of the fiend's poisons.

TRIPP: Today, we're going to split into teams and go house to house checking gardens. These are the plants we're looking for.

(SFX – footsteps)

NARRATOR: In town, Phil and the firefighters lead the Chicago and County police on a search. They check backyards, flowerbeds, greenhouses. Even though it's early October, and the bitter cold air will be arriving in the coming weeks, plants are still thriving.

(SFX – footsteps in grass)

NARRATOR: In the woods and fields, Arlo and the state troopers walk in grid formations, looking for any spots where plants grow. Ditches are checked. Anything sprouting is scrutinized.

(SFX – driving)

NARRATOR: Tripp drives past farmers in their fields harvesting crops, as Lark goes over addresses and areas they've already checked.

LARK: We got one more farm to go on Wolf Creek Road.

TRIPP: That's Oscar and Jeannie's old place.

NARRATOR: They pull into a secluded drive, stopped by a gate that's closed, chained and padlocked. A sign posted reads, KEEP OUT – Property of Stanfield Federal…Lark pulls a lockpick set from her pocket and gets out of the car, making quick work of the barrier.

(SFX – car crackles down gravel)

NARRATOR: The cruiser pulls down a long tree-lined dirt road. At the end sits an empty farmhouse on a neglected lot, protected on all sides by trees. There's a small algae-filled pond nearby…Out of the car, Lark marvels at the spot. It's not hard to imagine when maintained, this is a paradise on the prairie.

LARK: What happened? How did Oscar lose this place?

TRIPP: His wife Jeannie died. He said it was too much to keep up, but I could see it being too hard to be here alone without her.

LARK: How did she...?

TRIPP: Lymphoma or leukemia or something.

LARK: Why wouldn't the bank have this place up for sale?

NARRATOR: Tripp shrugs as he starts to walk the perimeter of the house. He peeks in windows as he passes…Lark heads around back, where she looks over a flower bed overgrown with weeds. There's nothing of interest here…At the pond, Tripp watches the still water and notices dead fish floating on the surface. On the other side of the pond, a man-made trail that heads towards some nearby woods. He follows the path and emerges where a big garden used to sit. Now, it's just a barren patch of dirt. Even weeds surrounding the lot are withered…

(SFX – footsteps)

NARRATOR: Lark comes through the path looking for Tripp as he kneels down, checking the soil.

LARK: Your dad just radioed. Everyone's coming in. The search didn't yield anything.

NARRATOR: She looks out at the infertile lot.

LARK: What is this?

TRIPP: Jeannie used to sell at farmers' markets all over. Said she could grow anything out here.

NARRATOR: He crumbles dirt between his fingers. It's gritty, dead of any nutrients. Sharing a look, Tripp and Lark decide to follow the lifeless soil to the corn.

LARK: Oh, do you smell that?

TRIPP: I can't smell anything.

LARK: Why? You got a cold or something?

TRIPP: Haven't been able to smell anything since a shooting. Don't ask.

NARRATOR: They walk through the rows. The stalks are long dead and moldy. Nothing new has grown in this spot for some time…Then they both begin to notice dead animals and sun-bleached bones all around.

(SFX – footsteps)

NARRATOR: Walking for a stretch, following a trail of death, the pair comes to a shallow stagnant creek, lined with more dead fish, frogs and crawdads. Tripp climbs the bank, looking around…They've trekked so far, he doesn't know what direction he's facing…But in the distance, he spots a familiar landmark -- Polygon. They get closer to the corporation's perimeter fence. More dead animals litter the ground. In the distance, Tripp sees the suspicious empty spot where the missing structure sat..and feels a breeze on his face.

(SFX – engine idling)

NARRATOR: Back in the sheriff's cruiser, Tripp and Lark wait outside the front gate at Polygon, there to have an official conversation with Gregg Galen. Inside, the head of security is on the phone, and several other guards are standing by.

(SFX – fingers tapping)

NARRATOR: Tripp taps the steering wheel. Lark stirs in her seat, her impatience indicating they've been waiting for some time. She looks up at one of the many security cameras aimed at them.

LARK: it sure feels like someone's stalling.


(MUSIC)

NARRATOR: Inside the office of Gregg Galen, post-workout, he sips on a green drink at his desk. Tripp and Lark stand before him, wanting some answers. Security is curiously posted at his door.

GALEN: I apologize. My meeting with the stockholders ran late. By the time I got the call you were here, I was in the middle of a workout. What can I do--

NARRATOR: Lark cuts him off, shoving her cell phone in his face. Pictures of dead animals on the screen. His steady stare drifts to Tripp.

GALEN: Didn't we already address this sheriff?

TRIPP: These were taken an hour ago. The remains stretch all the way from an abandoned farm to your fence line. Guess we have some more questions.

LARK: Is Polygon dumping chemicals?

NARRATOR: Whatever impassive look Galen had melts to a default grimace.

GALEN: We comply with all environmental reporting.

TRIPP: Can we see those records?

GALEN: We pride ourselves on transparency, but do you have a court order?

NARRATOR: Galen starts to stand, attempting to employ his trick of wrapping up the meeting with his constant state of busyness.

TRIPP: Do you know Embry Fisher?

NARRATOR: Shrugging his shoulders, Galen acts as though he hasn't a clue.

TRIPP: He was the safety inspector, who I hear may have taken bribes to clear companies of safety and environment violations…Before he died, that is.

GALEN: I've honestly never heard that name.

NARRATOR: He motions to the door again, thinking that if he just keeps at it, his headaches will leave.

TRIPP: How about Dave Thatcher? He worked at Stanfield Federal. Did you have any dealings with him at the bank?

GALEN: I'm not sure what you want me to say. Should I call my lawyers?

LARK: Has my colleague said something to make you think you need a lawyer?

NARRATOR: Galen is doing what he does best, remaining unreadable. But Tripp looks to the presence of the guards posted at the door.

TRIPP: I noticed a lot of new faces. Are you expecting some kind of trouble?

GALEN: We're a multi-billion-dollar corporation with all the bluster happening in this town. It's wise to stay vigilant.

TRIPP: Afraid someone's coming after you?

GALEN: Sheriff Ellis, I cannot think of a single reason why anyone would ever come after me.

NARRATOR: After getting nowhere with Galen, Tripp and Lark walk out of the office passing through the reception area…Joy gives Tripp a friendly but cautious wave. He throws one back at her as he and Lark load into the elevator.

LARK: I'm having soil, water, and as many of those animals tested as fast as I can.


(SFX – car comes to a stop)

NARRATOR: As the cruiser pulls to the sheriff's station, Lark and Tripp disembark, going their separate ways for the night…Heading inside to finish up some work, Tripp scoffs at a flyer for the Harvest Festival, honoring Greg Galen as Citizen of the Year, taped to the front door…He tears it down as he enters.

(SFX – paper tear)

NARRATOR: Heading through the quiet station, he's not expecting to run into the mayor, who angrily waits in his office.

MAYOR: Back from aggressively badgering Mr. Galen, are we?

TRIPP: We had a friendly conversation.

MAYOR: That's not how he categorized it. He said you leveled some serious defamatory accusations against he and Polygon.

TRIPP: There's a trail of dead animals from surrounding farms all the way to Polygon's property. We want some answers, but I think his ruffled feathers speak volumes.

MAYOR: Shouldn't you be out hunting for that maniac killer?

TRIPP: We think there might be a link between what Polygon's hiding and her toxic tormentor.

MAYOR: Watch yourself, Sheriff. Accusations can turn tepid water boiling hot. Galen's already talking to his lawyers.

NARRATOR: Tripp tries to show her the dead animal photos on his phone, but the mayor with a nonchalant look turns away, and it dawns on Tripp.

TRIPP: You already know, don't you?

MAYOR: Whatever you think, whatever delusions you have tumbling around up there, just forget them.

TRIPP: A picture is emerging and it's becoming clear that these attacks might be aimed in the direction of Polygon. We have to cancel this…

NARRATOR: Tripp slams the flyer for the harvest festival down in front of her.

MAYOR: Are you out of your goddamn mind?

TRIPP: Honoring Galen in public might just be the dog was so this killer needs.

NARRATOR: But doubling down, the mayor's only answer is a dismissive scoff.

TRIPP: I'm gonna get to the bottom of this. And if I have to take you or Greg Galen or anybody else down...

MAYOR: Fuck off! How dare you?

TRIPP: There's a monster on the loose. And if all you care about is the economic outlook or bowing down to some big corporation, shame on you.

MAYOR: I don't have to listen to this.

NARRATOR: Face red with outrage the mayor storms out.

(MUSIC) 

NARRATOR: A common notion in sports is that winning solves a lot of your problems. With more and more obscure pieces of their case becoming clear, Tripp and Arlo are butting heads a lot less these days. Tripp's determination to find answers and his run-in with Arthur Leary has stirred something in Arlo. And of course, Arlo not being so critical of his son has gone a long way with Tripp. And while nothing has technically been won yet, there's not as much tension residing in the house these days.

(SFX – kitchen sounds)

NARRATOR: Back to their customary breakfasts together, Arlo loads the dishwasher post-meal, while Tripp pours himself another cup of coffee. The discussion this morning is the suspicion that Mayor Quan knows more than she's letting on.

ARLO: So you think she's complicit?

TRIPP: Covering for Galen. But I do have to ask, Polygon came around on your watch.

ARLO: After the base closed, there was a bad stretch where the town was dying. You don't remember because you were in grade school and high school. You weren't burdened with businesses closing or people losing jobs. Stanfield was looking for a lifeline…We felt lucky a big international company wanted to put down roots. When times are tough, you don't think about the cost, just the benefit…The responsibility of sheriff is protecting the peace, not the bottom line. Whatever corruption went down happened way behind my back.

TRIPP: There's a blind spot for sure.

ARLO: How about Oscar? Did you talk to him?

TRIPP: Didn't know anything about the wildlife, but said crops on that side had trouble growing since Polygon was built. Thought it might have something to do with drainage issues.

ARLO: I'm sure Polygon's been careful to cover their tracks, but there are too many red flags here. We need to be able to prove some kind of widespread negligence and a cover-up, and how it connects back to Nightshade's motive.

TRIPP: Yeah, sure, easy as that.

NARRATOR: He's interrupted by curious muted sounds coming from the front porch…

(SFX – front door opening)

NARRATOR: Tripp opens the front door, catching Joy, the executive receptionist at Polygon, struggling to slide an envelope underneath it. There's an awkward look between them…Then she hands the packet over.

JOY: There were others, but that's all I could get. I'm sorry.

NARRATOR: And with that, she takes off, down the steps, towards her car. But before she gets in to drive off...

JOY: I wasn't here, and I'd love to grab a coffee sometime.

TRIPP: Yeah, sure. It's a date.

(SFX – front door closing)

NARRATOR: At the kitchen table, Tripp opens the envelope as Arlo hovers over his shoulder. Inside is a photocopied, degraded and redacted cover sheet for a settlement agreement between Polygon and the family of Kyle Dobbs…The document is a veritable who's who of names related to their cases. Tripp hones in on specific lines of text.

TRIPP: (reading) Emily Dobbs as Administrator of the Estate of Kyle Dobbs, deceased, represented by Jenna Sullen, Respondent, Grey Galen Polygon, Inc., testimony from Safety Inspector Embry Fisher, and Floor Supervisor Adam Marsh absolves Polygon of any and all responsibility…Autopsy conducted by Kevin Sullen, who states Kyle's cause of death was…and it's redacted.

ARLO: This might be as close to a smoking gun as we get here.

TRIPP: Wow. See the line-item breakdown? Death, damages, loss benefit, funeral costs, anticipated earnings, total settlement, $250,000.

ARLO: Hard to see a deliberately low price associated with the human life. That'd be enough to make anyone see red.

(SFX – diner walla)

NARRATOR: At Tommy's diner, Brian Dobbs eats breakfast alone. Tripp slides into the booth across from him without an invitation.

TRIPP: Because of our history, I'd appreciate some honesty.

NARRATOR: He pushes the settlement cover sheet Brian's way.

BRIAN: I should never come back to this backwoods town.

TRIPP: Tell me, why would it be so important for Polygon to cover up a forklift accident?

BRIAN: There was no forklift and no accident.

NARRATOR: But as sheriff, Tripp is going to need a lot more than that in the way of an explanation…Brian heaves a heavy sigh, then leans forward, looking his so-called friend in the eye.

BRIAN: Kyle told my mom, Polygon was having him dispose of some pretty toxic stuff. Said they had all kinds of dangerous and volatile chemicals they didn't know what to do with. Something happened and there was an explosion.

TRIPP: An explosion?

BRIAN: An old storage shed near the outskirts of the campus. Kyle was exposed to some fumes and got real sick real fast…I've seen it in the army with chemical burn pits. Chemicals can do nasty things to you.

NARRATOR: A beat, as Brian tries to keep his emotions in check.

BRIAN: After taking a few sick days, Kyle's symptoms were getting worse. My mom begged him to go to the hospital. He called work, told him what was going on. They set it up for him to see some specialist. A few hours after he leaves the house, my mom gets a call saying Kyle died in a forklift accident…At work…Details were sketchy, information was staggered, controlled entirely by Polygon. Then things got even stranger. A few days later, Polygon reached out wanting to have a sit down with my mom so they could make things right. But when she went in, the lawyers pulled a fast one, had a slew of testimonies, placing blame on Kyle for whatever fictitious accident they were claiming. They said he showed up and wanted to work a shift, but he was drunk, which was an obvious lie, because Kyle didn't drink. But they disputed that with blood alcohol tests from an autopsy…They had a bullshit made up answer for everything.

NARRATOR: Tripp's quiet as he digests the information.

BRIAN: Then they questioned my mom about anything Kyle may have told her. They made her sign an NDA and forced her into a lowball sediment to close the matter. I think Kyle was proof of something Polygon wanted covered up…My mom never even got to see a body. But get this, they sent her home with an urn full of ashes.

TRIPP: How can any of this be?

BRIAN: You're supposed to be the law around here. You tell me.

TRIPP: Maybe you and her need to go to the press to tell your story.

BRIAN: With what proof? Polygon has gone to great lengths to cover their asses for something. And with everything that's gone down, my mom's so scared, she won't even leave the house.

NARRATOR: Brian slides the paper back to Tripp. Who looks at it…the names, the scope of the thing.

TRIPP: Majority of people in this page are dead. What do you make of that?

BRIAN: It means Polygon's villainy runs deeper than just Kyle.

TRIPP: If you know something--

BRIAN: --This is Polygon's big bad secret, not mine. I just want to know the truth about what happened to my brother.

NARRATOR: Brian grabs his bill and gets out of the booth.

BRIAN: I know you got a job to do, but next time you see me, leave me the fuck alone.

(MUSIC) 

NARRATOR: Back at the sheriff's station, Lark studies the settlement sheet, as Tripp and Arlo stand with Elke at the filing cabinets.

ELKE: I've looked everywhere. I can't find files on Polygon, not even in the archive.

TRIPP: No workplace accident reports, nothing about an explosion?

ELKE: I mean, there are absolutely no files. None have ever been created in our system.

NARRATOR: Arlo and Tripp share a look. A moment later, Lark pipes up, seeing something they missed.

LARK: Judge Cooper presided over this inquest. That's the first death I signed off on when I got here. It was determined natural causes, so there was no autopsy.

TRIPP: Maybe old Judge Cooper was another victim…We need more info on the settlement. Who do we call? The State's Attorney?

LARK: Private settlement means it never went to court, with Polygon admitting no liability and all information being sealed. Technically, this never happened in the eyes of the state.

TRIPP: How do we unseal the files?

LARK: Sealed is a generic term. There's probably no record except terms between the parties. Federal law protects corporations and mediations and settlements. We need police reports, death records, hard evidence to point to wrongdoing.

ARLO: Which doesn't seem to exist.

LARK: And why was a mortician acting as coroner?

TRIPP: I called Sonny. He said he never saw anybody, never signed a death certificate.

ARLO: That man is so unorganized, he couldn't find the shoes on his own two feet.

LARK: This all still begs the question, how can there be a workplace accident, or an explosion, or a death, even under mysterious circumstances, with no official documentation?

ARLO: I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but Tom Fawkes lived in a big house that I'm not sure he can afford on his deputy's salary. There's gotta be a money trail.

LARK: This seems more like a system of well-established suppression and coercion, with built-in layers of deception and deniability. Let's not assume that we can unravel this quickly…But right now, the clock's ticking with our killer.

TRIPP: Galen is the last name alive on that list.

ARLO: All this trouble started last Halloween.

LARK: The Harvest Festival is the obvious endgame.

TRIPP: But wouldn't it be easier to go after Polygon right now? I mean, if we expose Galen, then Nightshade has to stop, right?

LARK: The settlement is a partial piece of something. The dead animals, the rotten crops. It's circumstantial. Theories, feelings, speculations don't work here. Galen needs to answer for whatever's been done…but so does our killer.

TRIPP: Okay, so we step up patrols, get the word out for people to call in if they see something.

LARK: I'll coordinate with the Statey’s and reach out to every cop I know. Let's hope a real police presence will be enough to stop whoever's doing this. Now, where are we with the suspects?

TRIPP: I'm of the mind that everything continues to point directly at Brian Dobbs.

ARLO: Embry Fisher happened last year. Now we're talking about Judge Cooper. Brian wasn't stateside for either of those.

TRIPP: Maybe he had help.

NARRATOR: Tripp's words hit Arlo. He grows quiet.

LARK: Okay, so who else?

TRIPP: We've done deep backgrounds on a long list of anyone who's had any kind of disagreement or motive when it comes to the victims. Process of elimination excludes everyone at a certain point. The only other promising person of interest was that woman from Grand Prairie, Tilda Vedder. She had a strong link to Embry Fisher and made direct threats about plant-based poison.

LARK: We make a list of who we like, and we put eyes on them. Our main concentration should be stopping Nightshade from striking.

NARRATOR: Arlo feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and quietly slips out into the hallway. He recognizes the caller ID and hesitates a moment before answering.

ARLO: Hey, doc…

ARLO’S DOCTOR: Hi Arlo...The biopsy came back. It's not good news.


(MUSIC)

NARRATOR: As the days pass, since his run-in with Arthur Leary, Tripp's sleep, his dreams, have begun to change. Burdened not with images of the dreaded Gino Corso and his brush with certain death, Tripp now dreams of fragments of a life he lived long ago…hints of his mother, his childhood, places he's been, the interpretation of past experiences. Though flashes of horror still exist in the background, he wakes in the morning, not with rushes of fear and dread, but with the hindrance of trying to piece a life he thought lost, together again.

(SFX – rummaging sounds)

NARRATOR: Tonight, he wakes not because of a nightmare, but sounds emanating from somewhere in the house. Unmistakable sounds in the dark, someone rummaging, searching…It's 4:12 a.m., too early for normal housely business.

(SFX – loading gun)

NARRATOR: Tripp quietly retrieves his sidearm from the locked gun case in his nightstand.

(SFX – more rummaging sounds)

NARRATOR: Tripp creeps out…The sound is coming from downstairs…He makes his way down and approaches a corner…Seeing streaks of a flashlight, someone is in the hallway…He waits a moment, readying himself for anything…Gun aimed, he pops out to find Arlo, digging around in a closet in the dark on the hunt for something.

(SFX – turn on light switch)

NARRATOR: Tripp flips on the overhead lights, surprising his father.

TRIPP: What are you doing?

ARLO: I'm looking for something.

TRIPP: At four in the morning?

ARLO: I couldn't sleep.

NARRATOR: On a high shelf, Arlo retrieves a tattered box. As he digs inside, his eyes light up, pulling out an old school audio reel.

ARLO: Have you seen my reel to reel?

NARRATOR: Tripp scrunches his nose. He has no idea what Arlo's talking about.


(MUSIC)

NARRATOR: As the sun is rising, Arlo and Tripp have nearly scoured the entire house, hunting for the tape player. But an internet search, to show Tripp a photograph of the elusive and archaic form of technology, yields pay dirt. Deep in the basement, behind some forgotten boxes of old memories, Tripp remembers seeing the apparatus, though growing up with CDs, he had mistaken the reel-to-reel for some foreign piece of kitchen equipment.

NARRATOR: With the players set up on the kitchen table, Tripp, wondering what all the fuss is about, watches in subdued curiosity as Arlo knows his way around the antique.

(SFX – spooling reel-to-reel)

NARRATOR: He places the tape tray on the spindle, then expertly threads the tape through the mechanical guides and over the head assembly, spooling it into the take-up reel.

ARLO: After we went to Weaverville, talked to Chief Stark, I started thinking about the past. Then something you said about our suspect having help. Sometimes you see a clue or a detail, and you don't know how it fits into the scope of things.

NARRATOR: Arlo looks off, into a distant memory.

ARLO: Back in ‘86, during the height of the Butcher case, there was a murder, happened at a little motel off of 45 called the Starline. I think about that place every time I head towards Urbana. It hasn't been there for 30-some-odd years, but it's funny how your mind can go back in an instant…A housekeeper discovered a young woman in one of the rooms. I initially took the call…It was a terrible scene, violent, hateful.

TRIPP: Did it connect to the Butcher?

ARLO: No. It wasn't how he worked. The killing was personal…Her name was Staff Sergeant Ellen Atwater. And as soon as we discovered she was in the Air Force, the jurisdiction was handed over to the Feds. But my dad and I were busy with the Butcher, so we put the Atwater case out of our minds. And after Clyde Carver was caught, things just kind of went back to normal. We forgot about it… Then on a rainy September night, bad storms came rolling through. The sky was pitch black. Strong winds knocked phone and power out…And that's when it happened.

TRIPP: You're talking about Night of the Tempest?

ARLO: During the storm, a lieutenant named Matt Breslin walked into the main MP station at a gunpoint, locked the guards on duty in the brig. Then he made his way to a ceremony happening at the Officer’s Club. All the brass had gathered because an officer by the name of Huxley was being promoted to major. Unbeknownst to them, vengeance was coming…Breslin locked the doors and gassed them all with some kind of nerve agent he stole from the weapons depot. Huxley was the only one to get away, but Breslin hunted him down in the storm. But before he was killed, Huxley was hiding and broadcast a mayday.

HUXLEY: (staticky radio call) Anyone hearing this, military or civilian, there's a madman in Emerald Lakes…He just killed a bunch of officers…He gassed them, burned some alive…He's coming after me…This is Major Walter Huxley…I'm at Hangar 18…I need help.

ARLO: I was patrolling the farm roads when I heard Huxley's desperate call.

NARRATOR: Arlo goes back in his mind…It's 1986. Outside, a storm rages and the wind howls.

(SFX – heavy thunderstorm)

NARRATOR: Accelerator to the floor, then Deputy Sheriff Arlo frantically streaks along a dark country road past the long perimeter fence of Emerald Lakes Air Force Base. The windshield wiper is working overtime in the driving rain. Arlo's left arm is in a sling, still healing from the showdown and capture of the Stanfield butcher just a month before. And at the speed he's going, keeping the car steady with only one hand on the wheel is proving difficult…But Arlo leans forward, as through the storm, he spots something ahead.

(SFX – car stops on wet road)

NARRATOR: Out of the car, he hurries to a seemingly unending row of fence line, tall chain link with barbed wire strung across the top. And with the assistance of the cruiser's headlights, he's standing at a section that's been crudely cut through with some kind of heat.

NARRATOR: Arlo pulls his radio.

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) ELAF-MP station, come in…

(SFX – empty radio static)

NARRATOR: He waits for a reply, but one doesn't come.

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) This is Delta-40, Stanfield County Sheriff's Deputy. I heard an SOS. I'm at your southeast fence line, come back…

(SFX – empty radio static)

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) Is anyone there?

(SFX – empty radio static)

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) Do you read me…over.

(SFX – empty radio static)

NARRATOR: With the chaos that's unfolded on the base, there's still no answer. And noticing heavy footprints in the mud, leading from the ditch, Arlo looks through the rain in the direction they're heading, towards Stanfield.

YOUNG ARLO: Shit.

(SFX – driving in rain)

NARRATOR: Back in his car, Arlo races towards town. On the empty road, he speeds past the Knife & Fork, a diner closed for the night. But a flash of lightning streaks across the sky, revealing the front door of the establishment isn't there.

(SFX – thunder)

NARRATOR: Arlo kills his headlights and quietly pulls into the empty parking lot. From where he sits, he sees the door to the diner has been violently ripped from its hinges.

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) Is anybody out there? This is Arlo Ellis. I'm at the Knife & Fork off Flatville Road, requesting backup. Lots of it.

(SFX – empty radio static)

YOUNG ARLO: (into radio) Eau de Nil? Grand Prairie? Is anybody on this frequency? Anybody?

NARRATOR: Tense moments of silence tick away and nothing from his radio but empty static. His look volleys back and forth from the diner to the road, but the reality is helps not coming.

(SFX – unholsters weapon)

NARRATOR: So Arlo pulls his sidearm and takes a breath, mustering as much courage as he can.


(SFX – rain)

NARRATOR: Creeping through the damaged entrance, the diner is dark, but Arlo is on high alert, having come face to face with a monster before. He hears faint noises coming from the kitchen.

(SFX – cooking sounds)

NARRATOR: Peeking into the galley door, Arlo sees Lieutenant Breslin, his back turned, standing at the flat top. He's cooking an unhealthy meal, two cheeseburgers, bacon, eggs, hash browns. He's dressed in a pressure suit that fighter pilots wear. It has a rudimentary steel husk built around it, with crudely welded plates serving as armor. Components of the exterior of the suit have been stripped off, piled on the floor, along with a gas mask, a tank marked with a hazard pictogram of a skull and crossbones, and a modified flamethrower…Arlo quietly positions himself behind Breslin, aiming his weapon.

YOUNG ARLO: Put your hands up.

NARRATOR: Breslin complies, holding up his hands. One's still gripping onto a metal spatula. He slowly turns, revealing a man in his mid-twenties, baby-faced, a clean-cut soldier. Dog tags hang around his neck…His brow furrows at Arlo, whose gun is pointed at him.

BRESLIN: I've seen you on TV. You're the one who caught the Butcher.

NARRATOR: Breslin motions to Arlo's slinged arm.

BRESLIN: He almost killed you, didn't he?

YOUNG ARLO: You're under arrest.

BRESLIN: I know. Everybody's coming for me. Just wanted one last indulgence.

NARRATOR: Smelling something starting to burn, Breslin turns back to the food. He pulls a bun off the grill he's been toasting, and the beef patties building his burger.

BRESLIN: Mind that tank. There's enough chemical neurotoxin in there to kill us both in about 40 seconds.

NARRATOR: As he plates the bacon eggs and hash browns, he peers back over his shoulder.

BRESLIN: You want me to make you something?

YOUNG ARLO: I'd feel a lot more comfortable with you in cuffs.

BRESLIN: I have every intention to surrender peacefully, but if I don't die tonight, I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life in the brig. So I just wanted to savor life one last time. Is that too much to ask?

NARRATOR: Plates in hand, Breslin slowly walks past Arlo to the dining room, where he takes a seat in a booth, savoring his food in the darkened diner.


(MUSIC)

NARRATOR: Back to the present, Arlo with distance in his eyes, looking back at the past.

ARLO: He sat and ate his meal. He’d just killed a dozen of his superior officers, but he seemed totally at peace. When he was done, I took him into custody, and while we waited for the military police, I thought I'd see if I could get him to talk.

NARRATOR: Arlo presses play on the reel to reel.

(SFX – button on reel-to-reel)

NARRATOR: There are hisses and pops, followed by Matt Breslin's warm, calm voice crackling over the speakers…

BRESLIN: Is it recording?

YOUNG ARLO: Yeah…This is Stanfield's Sheriff's Deputy Arlo Ellis with Lieutenant Matt Breslin in custody September 22nd, 1986, the time, 10:05 p.m.

BRESLIN: So what do you want to know?

YOUNG ARLO: What was the point of what you did tonight?

BRESLIN: That's complicated.

YOUNG ARLO: You killed all those people, the brass. Why them? What was your motive?

BRESLIN: You're newly married, right?

YOUNG ARLO: Yeah.

BRESLIN: I read about that in the Gazette. It was part of the fuel in your hunt for the Butcher, right? Him stalking women probably made you afraid for your new bride. You wanted to make things safer again…Imagine trying to do good. Trying to expose this murder for all he's done. But the Butcher kills you instead? Then he gets away with it… Wouldn't you want someone to take up the case and keep hunting the killer? Get justice for you?

YOUNG ARLO: Sure.

BRESLIN: I was trying to right a wrong. Fight for someone who couldn't.

YOUNG ARLO: And who's that?

BRESLIN: Staff Sergeant Ellen Atwater…You know that name, don't you?

YOUNG ARLO: Do you know what happened to her?

BRESLIN: A Captain, Huxley. He was raping women. Atwater was on to him, trying to expose what he was doing. She ran it up the totem pole with the higher-ups. But they all claimed she was making it up…So she threatened to go public. And because service to country is more important than the truth, they killed her and covered it up.

YOUNG ARLO: Do you have proof?

BRESLIN: Lots of it…But just like Atwater, I ran into resistance. Threats were leveled against me. Retribution was promised…So sometimes, a monster has to be created to destroy other monsters.

YOUNG ARLO: And that's what you were doing? Violence begets violence?

BRESLIN: Damn right.

YOUNG ARLO: Where'd you get the suit? The weld-marks aren't from a pro.

BRESLIN: I had help.

YOUNG ARLO: Who was it? Give me a name.

BRESLIN: Nope. That goes to the grave with me.

YOUNG ARLO: Why?

BRESLIN: Because they didn't know what I was going to do with it. So why implicate them? It's not their burden to bear.

(SFX – click – reel-to-reel stops)

ARLO: That's when the MP showed up and took him away. Everybody was happy they caught their fish. Breslin confessed, took full responsibility for everything…That was good enough to close the case. He was sent to Leavenworth where he died. But the facts of the Atwater case were buried. And though Breslin exacted revenge, no justice was ever really served…I tried to look into things myself, but I was stonewalled. But the more I did learn, the less I disagreed with what Breslin did.

TRIPP: So where did he get his suit?

ARLO: That is the million-dollar question.

TRIPP: Whoever helped Breslin could be the one in the nightshade suit.

ARLO: It was a long time ago. The probability our killer is a decrepit old man isn't really high.

TRIPP: Then maybe a relative?

ARLO: Or someone who knows their history.


NARRATOR: To be continued.

(MUSIC – outro)

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