Young Jim Marsh was different, or so he thought. He didn’t think he was quite like the rest of his family, so he looked for a wife from outside of Innsmouth. He soon found Mary Kane – no great beauty, and rather waspish in all senses – but she was strong-willed and clever. She soon gave birth to a son, Charles.
The match had never been supported by either the Marshes or the Kanes, and even the fabulous wealth of the Marshes had not turned the Kanes in the couple’s favour. The Marshes didn’t like having an outsider in their midst, and the Kanes didn’t care for what little rumour that reached them about Jim Marsh and his Innsmouth heritage.
When Charles was a child of eight or so, his father began to develop a strange illness. His appearance began to change, and the texture of his skin changed dramatically. It was rumoured that his body had altered even more. Before long Jim Marsh was hardly ever seen in public, and when he was he wore baggy clothes and large hats, and bandaged or otherwise covered those parts of his body that would still be exposed to air and daylight. Soon Marsh disappeared from view altogether, and the news was put about that he had died, and was now with his ancestors. Which was not entirely untrue.
Mrs Kane took her son away and put him in the care of Walter Thatcher, together with the vast inheritance from her husband held for him until he came of age. Then she faded out of recorded history. Like her husband, and all Marshes as they grew older, she simply vanished.
The fortune didn’t vanish, though, and the Marsh refineries and other business interests continued to flourish, even as Innsmouth declined still further. Walter Thatcher used his sure financial hand, as well, in his ward’s interests. When Kane eventually inherited for himself, his fortune had very little to do with a gold mine in Colorado. The great bulk of the gold came from New England – somehow. And when he was old enough, Kane started to spend it.
The film American switched back into reality at that point. Kane bought and transformed an ailing New York newspaper, the Daily Enquirer. And that was the beginning of King Kane, aka Citizen Kane. Who now lay on the bed in front of me, and whose last word seemed to have brought the full circle of his life to completion.
Susan Kane tottered back across the room, and grabbed the whisky bottle. She took a gulp, and offered it to me.
“Perhaps I will,” I said, as I walked over to where she stood.
“So what’s Innsmouth?” she repeated.
So Kane hadn’t told her very much. She probably believed the film to be the true story. After all, her part in it had been fantastic enough.
I had to get out of this. I didn’t know where it was going to lead. I certainly wasn’t going to start talking now, not with Kane just about to begin seriously evaporating under the sheet, and his sodden widow in a yelling mood. I had to consult Welles.
“I’m not sure,” I advanced. “It could be a place, by the sound of it. But I don’t know where. And why would he say that as he died?”
“You don’t know? You don’t know? No one knows nothin’ round here, in this dump. Well, I won’t be hangin’ round here much longer, I can tell ya. And as for you –”
I dodged the bottle quite easily. “Good-bye, Mrs Kane,” I shouted as I made for the stairs. With luck I could leave the whole place behind me and be back at the airfield before nightfall.
Immediately I got back to New York I went to see Welles.
“What did you get?” he asked. “Have you got to work yet? Got anything really new from last time?”
I sat down opposite Welles – uninvited, but so what.
“Kane’s no problem. He is thoroughly dead. I don’t think he changed at all in the last ten years. He must’ve just sat there, soaking up the sun, keeping moist, and spending his money on Xanadu. It’s Mrs Kane –”
Welles broke in. “Susie? What’s that drunken made-up shopgirl up to now? After all the cash?”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t say so. And I don’t think that. She doesn’t seem to know where it comes from. I think she still believes it’s from a huge gold mine in Colorado. Or she believes it for now.”
“For now? What do you mean?”
“You know what the old boy’s last word was?”
“What?”
“He said ‘Innsmouth’.”
Welles seemed to show little surprise.
“Uh-huh. Who heard him?”
“Susan and Kane’s nurse. Who’s nowhere to be found.”
Welles practically spat out his cigar. Then he caught himself and threw out a beaming smile. “Susie’s too dumb to know about Innsmouth. She wouldn’t know where to start looking. She thinks that an atlas is something that men use to get bigger muscles. All those years of jigsaw puzzles did for her. Not that there was much there to begin with. She can’t see further than the next bottle. And there’s Raymond, as well…” His voice trailed off in speculation.
“But that doesn’t help us,” I said. “If Susie doesn’t find out for herself, it’s only a matter of time before someone tells her. And then she can get everything. Though I suppose that also depends on the will, if there is one. Then if someone can get to Susie…”
“And we won’t have heard the last of Raymond,” Welles said. “I think that it’s time to get in touch with Jed Leland.”
“Leland? He’s still alive?”
“Sure he is. He’s at home again, too – at home back in New England! We’ve a train to catch, to Arkham.”
I don’t know where Welles had found the time to phone ahead, or if he’d got someone else to do it, but when we arrived at Leland’s Saltonstall Street mansion he was expecting us. Or at least I got that impression.
The butler ushered us into a large and spare Colonial room. The decor was pale, and it was very empty, save for several armchairs, which looked comfortable and well used, and a large number of cushions scattered around on the polished wood floor. And that was about it.
“Nice place,” I said, when I’d finished looking over the room. “I thought Leland never had a cent to call his own.”
“He didn’t, until he met Kane at one of his colleges – they were together here for a while at Miskatonic. Kane spent time there before being expelled, as usual. Leland came from an old family, but there was no longer any money – only the name and social position. They teamed up. Kane let Leland realise his dream of becoming a drama critic and helped him to maintain the lifestyle a Massachusetts Leland should have. In return Leland opened the right social doors for the wealthy but odd boy whose father was one of the, ah, Innsmouth Marshes. Kane provided the cash and business drive, Leland provided the respectability. Until he wrote that newspaper notice about Susie’s opera debut… And even then they did make up, eventually.”
I remembered how we’d treated that incident in the film. “Didn’t he send back his last check all torn up?”
“Yes. But he got another one later. He needed the cash. And Kane always had plenty of that to spare.”
“Does Leland know where it really came from?”
“He’s sure to. He’s an Arkham man, and I bet that he knows all about what really went on in Innsmouth.”
The white panelled door opened, and a shadow walked in. It turned out to be a man, although if he’d turned profile-on to me, I think that I’d have missed even that. Jed Leland had something of the presence of a praying mantis coupled with the inscrutability of a reptile. He was dressed entirely in white – dressing gown, trousers, espadrilles, and a thick white scarf covering his neck up to his ears and under his chin. He also wore a visored cap, which hid what I assumed to be total baldness and eyes sensitive to too much light.
Back in 1941 we’d portrayed him accurately: a frail, elderly man in hospital with nothing more incurable than old age. Age had withered him even more since then, or something else certainly had. He shuffled across the room to where we were. He kept his hands in his pockets, which added to his hunched, shrivelled appearance.
“Welles, Houseman! How kind of you to come and see an old and lonely man like me. Sit
down. What news from Sloppy Joe’s?”
Leland had always referred to Xanadu as Sloppy Joe’s, among other things. To hear him, this desiccated creature, still doing it was almost absurd. I restrained the desire to burst out laughing. However, it looked as if I’d just be a spectator of a conversation solely between Leland and Welles.
“You know that he died two days ago?” Welles said, as his opening shot.
“Yah, I heard. I still have a pretty good idea what’s going on,” Leland replied, drawling out his words.
Again, I reflected, Welles had cast well for American: Leland was quite the double of a heavily made-up Joseph Cotten.
Welles said, “I’m sure. I haven’t been down there yet, though I expect to go to the funeral, if there is one. I suppose the Others know?”
“Ah, as ever, straight to the point,” Leland said, showing slight amusement. Even that looked like it would be too much effort, but I was sure that Leland was far more resilient than he seemed. “Yah, They know, but I don’t think they’ll interfere with any funeral arrangements.”
His tone of voice suggested that to do so would be like the King of England getting up a ladder himself to clean the windows of Buckingham Palace.
“No, I’ll think They’ll stay in the background, at least for the time being. But in the future, now that he’s gone… They never liked his mother, and the human taint that it gave Charlie. He was never quite one of Them.”
“Which might not have been a bad thing,” Welles added.
Leland ignored this.
“So They resented him –”
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr Leland,” I said, “but precisely who are They?”
Welles kept quiet, as if controlling a temper stretched to breaking-point by a tiresome child. Leland assumed an avuncular air.
“Why, his relatives of course,” he said. “Or most of one side of the family, at any rate. There were hardly any Arkham Kanes to speak of, and I expect they’ve all died out by now, really. And the Innsmouth Marshes – the full-blooded ones – resented Charlie Kane, and still do. There are still enough of them around, as well, even despite what happened in 1928. They never liked Charlie’s human aspect, as if that side were somehow a betrayal of them. They felt that their, ah, transactions and operations were in danger of exposure from him. But Charlie just spent the money, and enjoyed himself. He bought things. He knew the source of his fortune, and that was all there was to it. He was never a threat to Them. But now…” Leland lapsed into silence.
“Yes, They resented him,” Welles said. “They might stop at nothing now to get their revenge on Xanadu and what’s left of the Kane Organisation. And maybe even Susie. Even she doesn’t deserve that.”
Leland just sat there, as inscrutable as ever. “Yah, you’re right,” he said. “But I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it. Oh, don’t worry about Mrs Kane. She can go back to ‘singing’ or shop work, for all I care. But I warn you, things will happen now Charlie’s gone. Stay out of it.”
Welles got up. I did too. He didn’t hold out his hand to Leland, who continued to sit scrunched up in his chair as if he’s been badly poured into it. “You’ve made yourself clear, Jed,” he said. “Thank you.”
Leland smiled and nodded.
Welles looked at me. “Come on. Let’s go.”
As we emerged onto the busy street and back into the sunlight, Arkham was looking its best as an old New England Colonial town, with its trees, crooked wooden houses, and graceful mansions. Welles explained that the city had been cleaned up a lot, and urban renewal had swept away many picturesque if rotting slums.
“Let’s walk,” Welles said. “It might be a good idea to call in at Miskatonic. I wouldn’t mind seeing if one of my old friends is still around. He could probably tell us a thing or two more about what we’re getting into.” Welles fixed me with a stare. “We are into something big. If it were another film, people wouldn’t believe it. They’d say that I was trying to scare them all over again.”
We hurried on. Soon we came to the university area, and made our way across the grass-covered Square, towards the brick-built library building on the other side. Great old trees sheltered its entrance portico. We went inside.
Welles knew his way about. Without any hesitation at all, he led the way towards a broad flight of wooden steps, and bounded up them several at a time. I kept up as best I could.
“This way.” We hurried along a corridor and stopped in front of a finely panelled door. A small, discreet brass plaque was inscribed LIBRARIAN: HENRY ARMITAGE AM PhD LittD. Welles knocked, and we went straight in.
Behind a cluttered desk near the window was another old man. This seemed to be a day for meeting old men. But whereas Jed Leland had been withered and desiccated, covered up against natural life itself, Armitage simply radiated life and vigour, despite the fact that he must have been well into his nineties. Armitage was a short and powerful man, with an impressive head of snowy hair and a well-trimmed spade beard. He looked up from the pile of books in front of him as we entered his room. He got up at once, smiling broadly and genuinely.
“My dear Welles, do come in, and your companion. Sit down. I thought you might be looking in on me, given the news about Mr Kane. We might have much to do, don’t you think? I’ve come across Them and Their kind before, as I’m sure I’ve told you, Welles…”
“Kane was a student of yours as well, wasn’t he, Dr Armitage?” Welles asked. “How, ah, apt a pupil was he?”
Armitage leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily.
“He was an apt a pupil as you ever were, I think, Orson,” Armitage replied. “That never surprised me. Kane had the connections, shall we say, and he had the enthusiasm, too. He never lost that. He also never forgot his origins, and the Faustian bargain he made with Them, either.”
“Faustian?” I echoed.
“Yes, you know,” Welles said. “You have health, wealth, whatever, for your lifetime. But it’s all bought at a price. Usually repayable after death, like in the story.”
Armitage looked at me, amused at this exchange. “I’m not smiling because I think you’re talking nonsense, because I do not think that you are talking nonsense. Now, let’s get down to business.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Welles said.
Armitage said, “You remember the tragedy of the Alert in the Pacific in 1925, and the Paris exhibition of Ardois-Bonnot the following year? You remember me telling you about 1928 and the events of the next year, and poor Albert Wilmarth in Vermont? They were involved in it all. It all tied together, and it’s still going on. It never finished, as we thought it had. But from what I know, Kane is finished, dead, beyond any danger now. What danger there is now is far more subtle. They will want control of the Organisation, all its interests and money. It all almost collapsed once, but it grew again. But the situation is totally different now, with Kane himself gone. Mr Thatcher is dead too, and I believe, that lively little Mr Bernstein. Those three saved it all before. Now it’s totally different.”
“As I said, that’s why we’re here,” Welles said.
“I rather thought it might be,” Armitage replied.
After a pause Welles said, “I think that it’s up to us. Us three here. Leland is on Their side. There’s Susie and Xanadu and thousands of jobs to think about. I wouldn’t trust that shit Raymond – sorry, doctor – as far as I could throw him. So it’s up to us.”
“What’s your plan?” asked Armitage. “I’ll help all I can. After all, I was active in 1928 when that…horror…struck Dunwich. They have never forgiven me, any more than they have the man who alerted the Federal authorities to what was really going on in Innsmouth. And I’ll bet They’ve not cared overmuch for you, Orson, since American was such a great success. It’s Them or us. I wish Dr Rice was here… So what are we going to do?”
Welles said, “I think that Their first move will be at the funeral, or just after. Nothing’s happened yet. I think They are still considering w
hat to do. Kane’s death must have been unexpected as far as They were concerned.” He paused. “They’ll smash Xanadu, and if Susie’s in the way, she’ll be smashed too. I think They want to get complete control of the Marsh interests, and the gold, whether or not the Kane Organisation comes with it.” He changed tone. “And I take it you’re coming to the funeral, Dr Armitage?”
“Why, yes,” he replied. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”
“Good. We’ve no time to waste. We had better all go to New York. We’ve got a great deal to think about.”
Once safely seated in our private compartment on the train, we were able to relax a little. Despite Dr Armitage’s ready acceptance of the situation, and his clear experience of such matters, I couldn’t get Leland out of my mind. I had enough faith in Welles to believe that he knew what he was doing. Welles generally didn’t underestimate anyone or any situation. But I hoped that he knew what he was doing this time.
As we passed through the Connecticut dusk, I felt able to voice some questions that I’d been thinking about during the day. Armitage was asleep; Welles slouched opposite me, making notes furiously in the notebook that he always carried.
“So what really happened in 1929?” I asked.
Without looking up or stopping writing, he said, “Well, you remember in American where Kane had to sign over all his businesses to that dried-up old no-sayer Walter Thatcher? That was all true. Kane’s income had all but dried up, and with Xanadu in the planning and the Organisation to run, something had to be done as a temporary measure. Of course, everyone just thought that the trouble could be put down to the stock market crash, as with all the other businesses that suffered. But there was the Innsmouth connection behind it all.”
“You mean –?”
“Yeah – it was the Federal Government, when they sent in agents to cripple Innsmouth and put an end to what was going on there. The destruction and deportations just about wrecked the place, even more than it already was. The Marsh businesses, their supply of gold, just about dried up. Kane could no longer get his share. His financial base was swept right away from under him. Luckily Thatcher was still alive, and thought enough of Kane to help him out. Unless he knew what was really going on, too. That wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve always thought that Mr Walter P. Thatcher had too many fingers too deep into too many pies. Perhaps he preferred dealing with Kane to dealing with any of the Others. Naturally we could only put the surface explanation in the film.”
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