Nocturne Hall presents an original audio drama intended only for an adult audience. [CRICKETS. A DISTANT HEAVY WOODEN DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES] Phillip! Damn, it's freezing. Phillip! [Footsteps] Oh, there you are. What are you doing down there, silly goose? Oh, never mind. Come inside. You'll freeze out here. When the fountain stopped, I heard gentle strumming. Love, it's thirty degrees. The fountain was never on. Shh. She's at it again. Can't you hear those tender plucks of gold?
[WIND BLOWS LEAFY TREES]
You've had quite a night. Time for rest. [DRAMATIC MUSIC] Where they gather, the ladder must be near. You won't find it sitting down. Let me help you to your feet. My, your hands are ice. [ FOOTSTEPS ASCEND STONE STAIRS] Climb with caution. Prudent. The rungs lined with swords and nasty hooks will cut us deep. But there's just a balustrade of smooth stone. A beast lurks beneath but pay it no heed. To rush will cut us to pieces. How about you come inside to warm yourself?
Perhaps another glass of sherry would set your mind at rest. [A HEAVY WOODEN DOOR CLOSES. FOOTSTEPS] Have a seat near the radiator, and I'll make you that drink. [SITTING ON THE SOFA. HEELS WALK AWAY ON THE WOOD FLOOR. BARWARE] HEELS ON THE WOOD FLOOR REAPPROACH] Here, love. Oh, thank heavens. He's conked out. [HEELS WALK AWAY AND ASCEND WOODEN STAIRS] [A GRANDFATHER CLOCK STRIKES THREE. GRUMBLING MALE] [THE GLASS DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS. CRICKETS. HARP MUSIC] Ahh. What marvelous light.
[MAN STRUGGLING TO CLIMB]
[OMINOUS MUSIC]
Saturus, guide me. [CRACK OF A WHIP. MAN YELPS IN PAIN, FALLING] [MAN SLAMMED HARD ONTO BRICKS FROM HIGH DROP] [THEME MUSIC] Devils walk among us. Some just a mile north of the White House. Whether conjured or elected, they prey on the innocent all the same. Most won't even listen, so folks knock on the one door in the District of Crime who will. [THEME MUSIC] Dupont Investigations. [SONG: I never thought my heart would mend] [SONG: You taught me how to love again]
[SONG: It's you and me until the end]
[SONG: Oh, we’ll paint this whole town red]
[SONG: Just the devils, the devils of Dupont]
[SONG: Just the devils, the devils of Dupont]
This is The Scourge from Carthage Part 1. [THREE KNOCKS ON A WOOD AND GLASS OFFICE DOOR] It's open. [THE OFFICE DOOR OPENS] Mr. Somersby? You're not from C&P. C&P? Chesapeake and Potomac. The Telephone Company. You must not be from around here either-- Wait. not another blasted reporter? No, sir, I'm Nigel Clemmons, a claims investigator with Zeugma Insurance. Although, I admit the story from the papers is why I'm here. You look familiar. Have we met before? I don't believe so.
Come into my office. [THE WOODEN DOOR OPENS ] Would you like a drink, Mr. Clemmons? All I've got is bourbon. [TELEPHONE RINGS ONCE THE RECEIVER IS PICKED UP AND HUNG UP] Garbled line? Nah. Works just fine. Still, I'm having it disconnected after the Evening Star ran its gem of a story. [BAR RATTLE] Here you are. So, Mr. Clemmons, let me give you some free advice. Watch out for dame reporters. They seem innocent enough, but they've got the sharpest teeth of all the sharks in the pond.
I'll keep that in mind. Although I've found trouble with every dame I've met. Ha. You can say that again. I wonder whether the paper printed the truth about your case? [GLASS IS SET DOWN ON THE TABLE] Oh, it was a hoax, alright. Big dummy me taking another macabre case. My father swore I'd make a fool of myself chasing after ghouls and goblins one day. But how come a fine fella like yourself tracks me down after reading that rag story?
Well . . . the paper mentioned you fancy yourself a scholar of the occult. Oh, brother. Tell me this ain't another case. I'm through with it. I'll tell you through--the whole funny business. After my last case, no decent person would hire me. No, sir. I'm ready to hang it all up. [THE PHONE RINGS ONCE. THE RECEIVER IS PICKED UP AND HUNG UP] You see. But those might be new clients calling. Clients shmiants. I'm through with the lot of them.
Most are rich baffoons trying to investigate the family fortune teller. Long gone are the serious clients, and you can forget anyone from the Hill reaching out again. All the rats in Congress are getting tailed by my competitors. Sorry to hear about your dry spell. But, I assure you, I have every interest in this case remaining out of the newspapers. Which outfit did you say you are with again? Zeugma Insurance. Zeugma. Never heard of it. Our office is in Zeugma, North Carolina.
Oh, that Zeugma. Sure. I read the new Empire State Building is just a scaled-up version of your big building downtown. They say yours is the tallest building south of Baltimore. The Steeples Tobacco Building. You don't sound like a tar heel? I'm from Richmond. My pa got a job in Zeugma when I was in the tenth grade. Lured by the Steeples operation? Like most folks in Zeugma. I can imagine. I suppose you know what kind of breed that plump white cat is from all their advertisements.
It's a Turkish Angora. Ah, but Mr. Steeples is the true fat cat. It just so happens; I'm investigating the death of Phillip Steeples. The old man? No, his son. I hadn't heard he died. No. Thus far, I managed to keep it out of print. That's quite a trick. It cost a small fortune, but the Steeples family can afford it. So, you're in touch with the family? Indeed. My trouble is the case is unusual. You're gonna have to give me more than that. Are you familiar with the Spanish Steps in Kalorama?
Sure. What about 'em? They found Phillip Steeples's body on the pool patio of an adjacent house. It seems he fell from the roof and died from a harsh, blunt injury to his head. The trouble is the medical examiner won't rule out foul play. What does his policy say about murder? I thought double indemnity is paid out all the same for murder or accident. But not for suicide or the decedent's gross negligence. Still, none of that's in play. How come? He didn't have a life insurance policy.
Then why the devil are you working the case? Ahh, lemme guess. The family wanted someone they trusted, so they tapped their local insurance investigator as their P.I. I've taken the odd case from them--whenever hired muscle couldn't get results. But when news of Phillip arrived, they recalled how we used to be friends. Used to be? He survived a nasty accident but was never the same after. The family struggled to restore him to his former self, but his recovery proved complicated.
Although his wounds healed, he feared the pain would return. Ultimately, he withdrew from the family, slipping away to Washington. So, are they paying you by the day or what? So far, just expenses, but Mr. Steeples isn't stingy. After Phillip left home, the family took out a liability policy on him. They feared he might hurt someone. Sure, perhaps in another reckless driving incident. Ah. But the only one he hurt was himself. So it seems.
At least your company won't have to pay out on his policy. Mr. Somersby-- Please call me Torsten. Well, Torsten, I'm outta my depth in our nation's capital, and the Steeples are expecting answers-- And you haven't got any. Just a few clues. Whose house was it where dear Phillip took the plunge? It belongs to Judge Krause from the Municipal Court, but he and his wife are still vacationing in Portugal. So, what do you figure the heir to a tobacco baron was doing there?
That's one of several remaining mysteries. Did you visit the scene? It was my first stop. I can't say there was anything out of the ordinary except that he died on the wrong side of the property. Was there a right side to die on? Of course not. It's just that one could access the fourth floor via a stairwell. There's a rooftop gazebo and terrace, but it opens facing south. The Codman House is below, so we're talking a five or six-story drop. But he fell on the north side?
Right, but the northernmost roofline is aligned with the lower third floor. So, not all that great a height from which to fall. I'd estimate around a thirty-foot drop. I see, so he did fall on the wrong side. It usually takes four stories for a lethal fall. But, if he struck his head and bled out-- That's the peculiar part. It seems he fell from a great height. Could he have crawled up and fallen? There wasn't a trellis or anything simple to climb.
But, I mean, he fell from a height considerably higher than the roof. I don't understand. The body wasn't there when I arrived. Just a chalked outline and smashed patio bricks. You tellin' me he smashed apart the bricks? From less than four stories. Why that is peculiar. We're still awaiting the medical examiner to complete his autopsy, but the detective who responded to the call reported that upon the ME's initial inspection, he determined most of Phillip's bones were broken. Who phoned it in?
Someone's dog sniffed out the body around six in the morning. He kept barking his head off 'till the owner climbed the ivy to peek over the high cement fence. Smart pooch. Once they saw the body, they came to the front and rang the bell, but no one answered. So they went down the Spanish Steps and used the call box at Decatur and 22nd to reach the authorities. How'd they identify him?
Last year, the North Carolina General Assembly required all automobile operators to start carrying a license listing their name and address. So, that's how the police reached his folks. Phillip's parents alerted his sister first, but their next call was to me. Once I agreed to take the case, I found their chauffeur at my door within a half hour. They reserved my train tickets at Raleigh Union Depot. But, by the time I finally arrived in Washington, Phillip was on a slab. Who identified the body?
I volunteered. For all his injuries, he was still the personable face I'd known growing up. Just lifeless. Are his folks on their way? No, the Steeples are too distraught to make any journey at the moment. They requested Phillip's body return to Zeugma once the medical examiner releases it. So, they tasked you with settling his affairs too? No, his sister and her husband took the train down from New York this afternoon. They should be at the Mayflower by now. Awaiting some answers?
And I've few to offer them. Care for another drink? [BAR NOISE] Now, you said the dog owner hadn't any luck ringing the bell but did Judge Krause have any staff? Someone must have given Phillip access to the premises. There wasn't a maid or a gardener on the scene when a beat cop let me through to the pool patio. If they have staff, perhaps they took leave at the same time as the Krauses? And about this pool. Could he have tried to dive in and missed? No one in their right mind would try it.
Was he of sound mind? Well, by the look on your face, I'd say you harbor some doubt. I'd be indebted to you if you could assist me with this case. No, you'd be in debt because I don't do favors, Nige. [PAPER WRESTLING] Look, I'll pay you two "C" notes if you come with me to his room at the Cairo Hotel. I stopped by there just before I came to see you. I'm out of my depth. It wasn't the room of the young man I once knew. It's a goddamned oddball horde. Hmm. Interesting.
I've been called an oddball before. Maybe Phillip and I had something in common. That's why I'd like you to take a look. Then there's more dough if you discover anything worth mentioning to Mrs. Barr. That the Steeples dame? Lilah. Lilah Barr. Who am I to turn down a gig? [THE PHONE RINGS ONCE. THE RECEIVER IS PICKED UP AND HUNG UP] You're not what I expected. Ah, come along. The Cairo's just a short stroll. Sounds like it's at least worth a gander.
Besides, we shouldn't keep Mrs. Big Smokes waiting too long. [TRANSITION MUSIC] [LATE-NIGHT TRAFFIC] So, I gotta ask, that case of yours. You sure you ain't a reporter? C'mon. One investigator to another. Why'd you take the case? Cause I'm a believer. Not in all things, but well within the realm most folks think unfathomable. So you honestly thought that little girl was possessed? I thought her parents deserved to have a P.I. check out the Diocese's track record on exorcisms.
You think they'll still let you take communion? They can keep it. I ain't a parishioner. But you believe in possession? Sure, as the day is long. But not in that case? No, the parents should be locked up. They had that poor girl under their own spell of self-delusion. Now, her fate lies in the hands of a social worker. Against a family as wealthy as Midas. The great irony is the press might be her only ally. So, that's why you talked to that reporter.
I thought she might show greater discretion if she understood the matter. Proved me the dummy. [OPENING OF A HEAVY GLASS DOOR. We don't have to stop at reception. I've still got a key. Good. Then this will be the quickest double "C"s I've ever snagged. You might want to wait till you see the room. Darn. The Elevator Operator's on break. It is late. Stairs? Sure, but how high are we climbing? Just three flights.
It's probably for the best. When they installed the elevators, I heard someone fell down from the top of one of these shafts. Ouch. When would that have been? Some forty-odd years ago. Do you suppose the shaft is haunted? Oh, he didn't die. Nah, the fella limped home and phoned for a doctor to come around. Bananas. It's true. I swear. [THE STAIRWELL DOOR OPENS. FOOTSTEPS] Phillip's room is right over here. [UNLOCKING OF WOODEN DOOR] I don't know how to prepare you-- Judas priest.
[DOOR CLOSES. MELENCHOLY MUSIC]
He's been in Washington just shy of a year, but he managed to collect quite a library. Minus the shelves. Look at these towering stacks. Oddball horde is right. I don't like it. Not one bit. What, the books? The atmosphere. It's tinged with malevolence. You a medium, too? Nah, you don't need to be one to sense something wrong went down here. C'mon. Let's see what kind of wild lit we're working with here. Clairvoyance, Thought-forms, The Etheric Double: The Health Aura of Man.
All I can make of this rubbish is Phillip must have gone slap-happy. No argument there. Still, there's got to be some common theme here. Anything by the desk? Just an Underwood without any paper. He's got the Sunday Star open to F-4. A hand-drawn map detailing John Wilkes Booth's escape route from Ford's Theater. Keep looking. The next issue is from the eleventh, open to B-6. It's a listing of all the Sunday services.
Something tells me he wasn't attending the Presbyterian Church of the Pilgrims. He was raised Methodist. Yeah? Still, I bet he wasn't attending Foundry Methodist, either. He's got several bookmarks in this gem. What have we here? The Secret Doctrine by Helena Petrovna Blavatsky. And this is just volume one. Oh, brother, we're in for a wild ride if he's studying this broad. Who is she? A corpse, thank the lord. There's a newsletter stuffed inside.
Here we are--the American Theosophist Society in America. Madame Blavatsky was a Theosophist. The Theosophist, in fact. A what? A Theosophist. To be honest, I'm not sure what they believe. I bet I have some of their lit in my home library, but they're an obscure bunch. I think they reinterpreted ancient religions, which is something I comprehend pretty well. What is their interpretation? Well, who's to say? We'd have to read all this muck. So, is there anything useful here?
Check the services on B-6. [WRESTLING NEWSPAPERS] What am I looking for? There ought to be a listing for Theosophy. You're joking. Look for their symbol, an Ankh in the center of the Star of David, with a Swastika overhead. A Swastika! Bananas. In an American paper? Son of a gun, look at that, you're right. Theosophy. They're listed right above the Presbyterian Church of the Pilgrims. That's a fine coincidence.
And the Swastika's been around a few thousand years before those Nazi bastards stumbled upon it. The Theosophists have two lodges in town. One has a service Sunday on The Memory of Past Lives. Ohh, wait, that's April fifth. This Sunday's Easter. Ahh, I opened the wrong B-6, although the Washington Lodge runs weekly classes at eight in the evening. Tuesday is Blavatsky Class. Oh, brother, glad we missed hers. Hey, there's also one tomorrow night.
Every Friday, they run an Elementary Theosophy Class. Perfect for newcomers. Where are they located? At 1216 H Street Northwest. [TAP ON THE TIN BOX] Well, now. Take a look at this gem hiding beneath Isis Unveiled. What is it? It appears to be a field medic's treatment tin. From the war? Let's peek inside. [OPENING OF TIN BOX] Ether, Stovaine, Sparteine-- Any morphine? Nope, that vial's missing. Why'd you ask? Call it a hunch. Young Phillip into morphine? Why else would he have the tin?
[CLOSING OF TIN BOX] Nige, I'm short on answers here. You're the one that grew up with him. [SAD MUSIC] Phillip was in a nasty accident. He wound his brand new Lincoln Model K around a telephone pole near Troy. Spent months in the hospital. Was never the same after. You think he got hooked on morphine? Could be. I know he began acting erratic after his discharge. I didn't see much of him back then. But it wasn't long before he left home.
That when his folks came round to take out the liability policy? I see. Neat coincidence. Now we find a treatment tin missing a morphine vial. But I still don't get what drew him to Washington. Or what sustained his attention? This isn't exactly a bachelor's quarters. Not an inviting one, at least for the uninitiated. Are you suggesting he entertained visitors in this horde? I know dames who would climb Kilimanjaro for a tobacco baron's heir.
Let alone plot a course through a maze of odd books to arrive in his comfy bed. Anythings possible. Did you look around for any correspondence? I'd anticipate a few notes from home if he were here for so long. Just a letter from his mother, asking him if he'd consider coming home for Easter. He'll be home all right, but not the way she envisioned. A telegram was sent Monday from the Belvedere Hotel in Baltimore. Says, Called but no answer. Ring yes or no. Holding package.
[SHUFFLING OF PAPERS] No sign of a response. Odd for a man to toss out all his correspondence. Oh, Phillip was always very secretive. Learned it from his father. Men learn all manners of sin from their fathers. Perhaps Mrs. Barr might know more? [DESK DRAWER PULLED OUT] [KNOCKING ON WOOD] If I didn't know better. What is it? [A PIECE OF WOOD SLIDES OUT FROM THE DRAWER] A false-bottom drawer. Something inside too. You think Phillip was running a racket? Maybe it's his ledger.
Looks more like a diary. It's marked C.E. Let's take a gander. Oh boy, this handwriting is a challenge. It's not a ledger. I can make out the date for this entry, June 5th, 1919. [DEEP BASS] Whoa, we lose power? Nah. It was just a flicker. [A BIRD STRIKES THE WINDOW. FOOTSTEPS] Christ.I think that was a raven. Best if I take the journal. I've got a gift for deciphering difficult penmanship. Here. Be my guest. [KEY INSERTED INTO THE DOOR. FINGERS SNAP] Bathroom. Now. [TENSE MUSIC]
Who's that? [DOOR OPENS] I thought you had the only key? I do. At least, I thought I did. You got a piece on you? Never. Do you? [FOOTSTEPS ON HARDWOOD] Gimme the toilet paper roll. What? Just do it. [REMOVAL OF TOILET PAPER ROLL] Here. Now what? No dummy. I want the cylinder. And gimme your jacket. What? Alright. Here. Thanks. What now? Time for our friend to stare down the barrel. And if he's got iron? Then we rush him before he shoots. Bananas. You ready? Heck no, I'm not.
On three. One. Two. Three! [THE DOOR KICKS OPEN] Whoa! Who the devil-- Hands up, buster. The devil's the least of your worries. Dupont Investigations is written by Marc Benjamin Langston and directed, edited, and sound-designed by Bryce Bowyn. Keep your ears in the 1930s by becoming a DUPONT INVESTIGATOR.
Access our private discord server–The Inside Scoop–or explore Torsten Somersby's recovered case file by visiting Nocturnehall.com/investigator Dupont Investigations: The Scourge from Carthage Part 1 features Kara Turner as IRMA KRAUSE Ryan McLean as PHILLIP STEEPLES Marc Benjamin Langston as TORSTEN SOMERSBY Jacob Lowman as NIGEL CLEMMONS And Joshua Hall as CALDER EVANS The Original theme song, Devils of Dupont, written and performed by Bryce Bowyn, is available wherever you stream music.
For individuals and families facing mental health or substance use disorders in the United States, listeners can call the free, confidential National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP. That’s 1-800-662-H-E-L-P. [THEME MUSIC]