288 - Doubles Anonymous

Hey it is Jeffrey Craner here to tell you that welcome to Night Vale is going to be on tour. Very briefly here at the end of the month, I'm speaking to you from May of twenty twenty six. We are gonna be in Europe. We will be in Edinburgh on may the twenty seventh, Manchester, on May twenty eighth, London, May twenty ninth, and Amsterdam on May thirtieth. So come check out our newest watch.

Welcome to Nightville Live Show, Murder Night in Blood Forest. The show is so much fun, and these live shows they're written for the longtime Nightville fan and the newbie alike. So bring whoever you like. Thank you. They'll figure it out very quickly what's going on. These shows are a lot of fun. You can get tickets and see uh locations and show times at welcome to nightvale dot com slash live. Also If you like other horror and you know fictional podcasts, why not check out Alice Isn't Dead?

We have Three seasons already that ran a few years ago, but we have a fourth season that is out now. It is currently in process, so come check out this newest season of Alice Isn't Dead. If you were a subscriber before and haven't listened to this new season, uh re subscribe, go get that. And if you've never heard it, jump in. It's a crazy good, very, very tense and scary story performed by Jessica Nicole and written by Joseph Inc. with uh

disparition. Uh I think that's all I got for you. And hey, thanks. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, this one also has laser tag. Welcome to Night Vale.

Jalen Rutherford woke up on the wrong side of the bed. No hooch last night, just a dame dancin' around in that gravy can of his. He can't shake the thought of her. She's a looker, to be sure, but she's trouble, and everyone knows it. But what woman isn't trouble? Jalen thinks. Actually, a whole host of gals are pretty balanced people, he corrects himself. In fact, his new boss, the tech, the gumshoe.

The sneaky possum, you know, the private investigator, Dana Cardinal. She's got a mind like a steel trap that's caught its dinner tonight. A dinner made of clues. Speak of the big boss woman, Jalen checks the clock. He's late. Dana will be waiting, and you don't want to keep DC waiting.

But his mind feels like it's at the bottom of a well, like that cute little girl from the ring. His mind feels like he had a whole night of eel juice and hanky panky, but he only gets to do the time, not the crimes. Still, his gray matter wriggles under the weight of that troublesome dame Ilana. He can't shake the thought of her. But he can't be thinking of dolls and birds right now. He's got a murder to solve. His own.

Dana Cardinals on the horn with another DC, Diane Creighton, a Data Cruncher, a Numbers junkie, a spreadsheet splainer. Diane Creighton's the kind of tough broad you go to when you don't know your rows from your columns, your sorts from your filters, your elbow from your pie hole. And Diane's always here to help a friend with a spreadsheet, whether it's taxes or evidence for murder. Dana thanks Diane and checks her watch. 9 a.m. as the crow flies. Jalen's late.

Dana will have to start without him. She picks up her laptop and sits outside under the warm smile of the spring sun. The golden light holds her like a gentle father who is scared to hurt the baby. Yeah. Dana sleeps well these days. She's good at what she does. She has loving friends, a healthy diet, a nice house, and several adorable ferrets. you know, nickelweasels, snake terriers, long mice. They're not only great guide animals, but they spook away the plug uglies and ruffians.

In the buttery warmth of a spring morning, Dana remembers her last session with Doubles Anonymous. It's good. Group therapy, but for people who killed their doubles, their doppelgangers, their Twinkies, their deuces. But in Dana's case, she doesn't know if she's the real Dana Cardinal or the Double. She may never know who offed who with that stapler. Dana had invited Jalen to join her at the next Doubles Anonymous meeting. You see, Jalen Rutherford, well, he's a double too.

Only he never got a chance to kill his original. Some other Hatchet Man danced that jig first. Dana texts Jalen, asking where he is, but she's not worried. It's a sunny day, and she might put on the old feed bag for some yogurt and berries.

Jalen's doing figure eights around his bedsit. What sort of sap oversleeps and then can't find his satchel? He feels like a sucker, a mouthbreather, a fool. But he's found his gear and he's about to take. A hike. That's when the pounding begins. The knocking on the door echoes in his aching noggin. He peeps through the Venetians and his heart skips like a stone on clear water, like a quarter note in a rag.

Like a hopscotch tournament. It was Ilana, the dame, the dish, the doll-faced troublemaker. Ilana was a no-goodneck, and he didn't want to open that door, but he had no other way out. Of this Roach Motel. Besides, she knew he was there. Like a turkey, he left his jalopy parked right in front. Might as well put up a neon sign that said, Dunts Incorporated, open for business. He cracks the door and silver light slaps him across the face, like it's threatening an eighteenth century duel.

Why are you running? She says, her voice all bass in breath, like a cello on a windy day. Yeah. Why are you chasing? he snarls back, his voice breathless and scratched, like an old shoe on wet concrete. Talk to me, Jalen, she implores. I'm not who you think I am, he says, firmly, finding his lungs at last. Thankfully they were where he last left them. I'm not who you think I am either, she says, stepping into his darkened studio apartment and pulling the door shut behind her.

Dana Cardinal cracks open the spreadsheet, the grist grid, the tic-tac-toe board. Her eyes scan the numbers, and the numbers make as much sense as a Jackson Pollock painting that fell into a paper shredder. She's not just trying to solve the murder of the original Jalen Brotherhood. She's trying to crack the case of the locked library murder of one Marcus Banson, aka Billions with a B, aka Erica, aka Moneybag Cherub.

How do you kill an angel? How do you kill someone in a locked room when they were the only one with the key and it was locked from the inside? And why? She's got the where and the when for this cardinal sin, but not the how. She might, though, be close to the who and the why. Harrison Kipp, the archaeologist, the ditch digger, the mummy rustler, well, he's started a little congregation, uh a communion,

A cult, if we're being honest. He's also started a radio show, The Twilight Gospel Hour, and two moons back, old Professor Kip all but put the bracelets on and signed his own arrest. He admitted that Marcus Vanston had promised a large donation to Kipp's religious goons, but that Cabbage never made the soup. Kip was burnt about the double cross, steaming like iron on cotton. It was enough to make a man murder an angel.

So Dana had a who, Harrison Kip. But why? Money madness. And how? Yes. That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it? How, indeed. Marcus was no dummy, no nincompoop, no goose. The richer you are, the deadter they want you. Vanson knew it, and Kip knew it too. She can't imagine how he would break into Vanston's Fort Knox.

Dana turns on the kettle. Jalen's 20 minutes late, and no text, no call, no blip bleep or bloop from that infernal little black rectangle in her hand. She's not worried. Not yet. Jalen leans to Alana's ear. She smells fresh as a daffodil, crisp as a cornet at Revelie. She smells like the gal he once knew, the good girl he loved, the one on the other side, the land of the doubles. That Ilana,

he adored. He'd have taken a slug for her, a bat to the bean. He'd have walked in front of a Mac truck to impress that femme fabulous. But this Ilana, She's no Ilana. You're right, Jalen says. You're not who I think you are. I loved you, or a girl like you. But she was from the other side of the tracks, A different place, an ethereal plane of existence. You catching what I'm throwing? I am not the same girl. Ilana pleads, but give me a day, an hour, a little kiss even.

And you'll forget her completely. No, Jalen pulls away. My Ilana was kind. She was patient. She was a model in more ways than one. Ilana exhales into his collar. You are true to your woman. You're nothing like the Jalen I knew before. He was rotten a rat, a wag, an overcooked duck, Jalen looked surprised. had he never considered that his double might not have been on the up and up? Thank you. He did you wrong? he asks, but he already knows the answer.

He ripped out my heart and stomped it out like a cigarette. Ilana pulls him close and says, I'm glad that sorry lug is dead. Dana makes herself another cup of joe. She takes her time with it. She likes the fancy pants pourover style. No black sludge stuck to a stained carafe. No. DC takes her beans lightly roasted, pale as a polar bear.

just saw a ghost. While the Java brews, she mulls over some letters that were found in the original Jalen's files, letters between Vanston and Kip. She couldn't understand. Marcus Vanston was completely enamored with Kip and his mob of red-robed thugs. Why would Vansen suddenly revoke the greenbacks he promised? And more so, why would the angel of one god want to donate so much money to the church of a different world?

Why, the good folks down at Temple Beth Shalom raised money last year for Our Lady of the Shambling Orphan. It was after the church ran out of gruel and tattered smocks for all the grime stained factory urchins. It's not uncommon for different religions to help each other in time of need, Dana thinks. But is Harrison Kipp's religion really a religion? Or is it?

Kip said on his radio show they can't take donations directly. And according to Jalen's spreadsheets, Marcus Vanston's gift was supposed to go through. Community College, where Kip heads the archaeology department. Eureka! Huzzah hot damn! She's on to something. There it is in cell M7. Vanston's millions going to the college archaeology department. That dough wasn't meant to help students understand history or culture, it was meant to get laundered by kids.

But why didn't the college ever get the bread? Then her phone buzzes, a text, a missive, a message from Diane Craig. Dana doesn't know it, but she feels it deep in her sinew that Diane has found something something big. Jalen studies Ilana's face, her mug, her grill, its stone, concrete, serious as a root canal. He broke my heart, she says. But worse, he broke my mind. I couldn't control my rage when I found out he had double crossed me with that floozy

From Pine Cliff. That girl's a a nothing. A wisp. A see-through. Everyone in Pine Cliff is a literal ghost. Ilana adds, while leaning into Jalen: What could he have seen in a chick he can't even touch? What are you saying, Ilana? Jalen asks cautiously. Did you kill my double? She pulls him close, their lips only an inch apart, and says, What does it matter? You're here now.

She kisses him. He kisses her back. The lovers stand silhouetted against the open window, the light growing brighter in the mid morning sky. But they were in too deep, To care about the weather.

It's night, and Jalen sits in a circle of chairs with a bunch of no-names. Randos, schmucks. Yeah. After the day he had he wants out of here. He wants to run to Alana. He wants to run away from Ilana. He doesn't know what he wants, but he knows what he doesn't want. He doesn't want to be at a meeting for Doubles Anonymous. But he missed work today with Dana, and he's feeling pretty low. He owes her this.

The door swings open and in Dana walks, all sunshine and popsicles. That is, Until she sees Jason. Her face turned. Sour, like orange milk left in a car on a hot day. I'm surprised to see you at the meeting, Shaylin. Says. Then she adds, her eyes as stern as the back of a boat. We need to talk after. Jalen can't look at her. He knows he laid an egg, gummed up the investigation by going AWOL. Then the meeting starts, and Jalen forgets about his day for a bit.

The gang lets him tell his story, talk about his fears, his challenges. He tells them he learned that his original self was a louse, a twit, an oaf, and maybe as crooked as a hockey player's grin. He admits it's hard to accept that he is the double of a deadbeat. The strangers assure him that he is different. They are not we are not they is the mantra of Doubles Anonymous. England feels admired like a bronze idol or a snow leopard.

Dana was right, Jalen thinks. Double synonymous is the bee's knees, the spider's butt, the hornet's fedora. He thanks Dana in front of the whole meeting, but her smile Phoney is a three dollar bill. which was hand drawn while riding a bike.

Jalen is over the moon, happy as a rock at a landslide. He has so much to talk to Dana about, but Dana says she has something very important. It's about He tells Dana about Ilana, about how she came to him today, how she's now the top. Jalen believes she killed the original Jalen in the world. And revenge. I mean, that Casanova had it coming, Jalen adds. Maybe not the big sleep, but he needed a knuckle sandwich at least.

Jalen loves Ilana, but doesn't trust her. She's wild-eyed and unpredictable, not like the Ilana he once knew. This Ilana was a conniver with more plots than a Brooklyn boneyard. Jalen was in over his head, both smitten and terrified. Dana takes a deep breath and says calmly, Ilana is the least of your worries, kid. Dana scans the rec center parking lot. She tells Jalen what Diana. Files. See, Jalen was Marcus Vanston's bookkeeper, and according to Diane.

The books Jalen kept were ringers, setups, fake aruskies. Spreadsheet was a false front, then there must be a real ledger somewhere, and Dana found it. It was hidden in Jalen's computer under the file name Boring Old Numbers Who Cares Don't Even Bother Looking.xls. This original Jalen was a trickster, a grifter, a con, a real shifty lizard.

This spreadsheet was for an LLC called JR Financial Services, and it proved that the donation from Vanston never made it to the college. Instead, it went to this J. R. Dana says, I think your double double-crossed his boss and was going to launder Van. for himself, she adds, smug as a thug stealing a rug. That's it, Jalen snaps. Maybe Ilana killed the original Jalen and stole the money. If I play my cards right, Dana interrupts. Hold your ponies. I found one.

I visited the coroner again to go through Jalen's belongings. I found his keyring with his apartment. A car key and one. And says A king. Vanston's Library of And assistant would have a spare day. But the room only locks from the inside. But if he had A special accomplice. A shapeshifter, another angel. A patch of haze even. A ghost he cried.

Ilana had said the original Jalen was cattin' around with that broad from Pine Cliff, a girl with a body that won't quit, but a body you can't touch. A lady like that could walk through walls. That's the ticket, Dana exclaims. Vanston discovered the deception, confronted Jalen, and Jalen and this immaterial girl bumped on. BILLIONAIRE By golly, Jalen says, you've cracked this case. Cracked it wide open, boss.

Then another voice. Hey, Dana. From behind a little I was just hiding under this minivan eavesdropping. cover copper. And it sounds like you're really making headway on those murder cases. Dana agrees and asks if the secret police have been hitting the bricks, sussing out perps and the like. Oh no, not at all, the Flatfoot says. Murders are really hard to solve. But it looks like this one?

Is getting pretty easy. We can take it from here. What? Dana says. Arrest this man, the lawman calls out. Many undercover. Emerge from beneath cars and grab Jalen Rutherford. You're under arrest for the murder of the angel Marcus Fanson, they tell him. No, not me. It was my double who did it. Jalen's double. And we don't even have proof of that. Well, you're the closest looking thing we have to the murderer, the cops explain.

As the prowl cars slither away under clinically white street lights Dana stands dumblessy. and alone. She knows she has to be. soon. But if it Turns out. Out Jalen was Vanson's killer and not King. The fuzz could make trouble for Jalen's double, the likes of which Ilana. And who murdered Jalen? That jealous maul Ilana? That greedy breeze of an accomplice? Sometimes an answer is just another question. Stay tuned for the slam of a cell door and baleful. Good night. Like Vale Good Night.

Welcome to Nightvale is a production of Night Vale Presents. It is written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Craner, and Bree Williams. Sound design and production by Disparition. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. Original music by Disparition. All that can be found at disparition.net. This episode's weather was Elysium by Edda Percii. Find out more at the link in our show notes.

Comments, questions, email us at infow at welcometonightvale dot com. Or follow us on Blue Sky at Night Vail Radio. Or on Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok at NightVale Official. Or, remember when that strait was closed because Trump did so bad at war? Unless it still is by the time you hear this, very possible.

But mainly check out welcome to nightvale.com, where we have a twice-monthly mailing list that is the best way to keep up to date directly from us to you. The economy is fake, but connecting directly with the artists you love is very real. Speaking of which, if you are able to, please support us on Patreon. It is our lifeline in a podcast business that goes up and down on the whims of the market. We couldn't do it without you.

And there's a bunch of fun bonus stuff and a good community on there. Today's proverb. Call me old-fashioned, but anything you can say to me over text, you also could have delivered by horse. Hey it's Jeffrey Craner speaking to you from spring of twenty twenty six and did you know we are on tour in Europe?

Welcome to Nightville. We'll be live on stage in Edinburgh on May twenty seventh, Manchester on May twenty eighth, London on May twenty ninth, and Amsterdam on May thirtieth. This brand new live show is called Murder Night in Blood Forest. Starring Cecil Baldwin, Symphony Sanders, me, and Live Original Music by Disparition. These tours are so much fun, and they're for the Die Hard fan and the Night Vale new kid alike.

So bring your family, your partner, your coworkers, your cat, whatever. They don't gotta know what Nightville is to like the show. Tickets to these shows are on sale now at welcometonightvale dot com slash live. Don't let time slip away. Get your tickets. Don't miss us when we're in your town, because otherwise we'll all be sad. Get your tickets to our Europe Live Tour right now at welcometonightvale.com slash live. And hey.