7. The News

- Harvey. (dramatic music)

- Clay's wallet was in the drawer now.

“I could still fill the way to the thing in my palm.”

After washing my hands, I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the drawer as if the wallet might come oozing out. Your tired, your hungry, eat, go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning and you'll figure it out.

A few minutes later, I was eating the rest of my steak sandwich. It was cold and not very good. Whatever it was on the TV, all I could see was clay at the pond. - Move it, you stupid son of a bitch! - Did I push him in?

No, he just fell. You've been over this 100 times, Harvey. He shouldn't have run. I had to chase him.

What was I supposed to do?

You know what you were supposed to do. You were supposed to help him. You could have pulled him out. I think you did push him in.

“And maybe he fell, either way, you could have saved him.”

Instead, you just watched. But after what he'd said, it wasn't my fault I couldn't move. Are you a child? You stood there and watched that man die,

and now his wallets in your room. You have hoped he was a ghost that everything about him was burned up in the lake. - Move it, you stupid son of a bitch! It was just a coincidence.

I knew all about the power of chance from my philosophy days. At the Academy, they really hammered at home, too. The coincidence, as you see out there, most people wouldn't believe. That's where conspiracy theories come from.

Most civilians can't ever believe that two people fitting the same description in some remote place might both be driving the same unusual car with the same unusual paint color, so they have to make up some story

about why some person might have killed someone

they had never had any contact with.

That kind of thing happens all the time, though, so we can't ever make assumptions. But Clay, yelling those words at me, how could that have been a coincidence? Sometimes I can't believe things,

even when I see them with my own eyes. I washed down a bite of sandwich with a coffee mug full of tap water. Some congressman named Gore was on the news, talking about how there's so much fire

and burning in the world. All the ice in the Arctic was going to melt and flood the earth and wash us all away. And that if we didn't stop driving our cars right now, there'd be no turning back.

Then there was a video of the fire at Starlight Pond. Moving from the greenhouse effect to a more local source of heat, an artificial pond in northern Utah, just over the border with Nevada, has caught fire. And firefighters have been unable to put it out.

Then pictures of the lost kids. In what some are calling a coincidence, three young children have recently disappeared from the nearby town of Sunnyside, Nevada. One of them was found dead just a few days ago.

Some believe a serial killer is on the loose. Some, including a local sheriff, believe the killer, or killers, might be connected to a satanic cult. We cannot confirm that there is any connection

between the murder, the disappearances, and the fire at Starlight Pond. But I would like to divert the public that some of the markings we found out the crime scene and some of the evidence does suggest

that a satanistical cult may be operating in the area. And what should citizens be on the lookout for

“when it comes to the activities of these sorts of cults?”

Satanistic graffiti, pentagrams, books by Nietzsche. Members of these cults are often drawn at heavy metal music. They're anti-social, and they tend not to have any due regard for their parents and elders. They think that by cultising the favor of Satan or his lackeys,

they can get great power and wealth. Sheriff, we spoke with one man who lives near the pond, and he claims that he saw someone leading a woman into the lake, and that she disappeared. Have you heard anything about that?

I have heard a number of rumors, and we're not ruling anything out. But at this point, these are just rumors. And Sheriff, are you going to be widening this investigation? We have the full support of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The FBI is on the scene, and we have access to all the resources

I expect the FBI will send more resources as need be.

I switched it off.

“I just sat there, staring at the blank TV,”

until the phone rang. I didn't want to answer, but it didn't want to stop. Hello? Harvey, JP here. Did you see that on the news?

It was that private investigator's straw. I saw it, yes. The Sheriff sure has some wild ideas, satinistical. That cracked me up.

What can I do for you, Mr. Straw?

I had a thought. How about if a tool of a share information? We both want to see this thing solve as fast as possible. The Bureau doesn't share information with private investigators. It seems a little bit callous to me, Agent Coots.

I helped you with Clay's wallet. I didn't even ask for anything in return. I saw that one coming. Anything in return, you found a wallet and handed it to the authorities. The Sheriff and I will track down who it belongs to.

I know where I found that wallet.

I need not seriously think that Gabe stepped at anything to do with this deal. I'm not discussing details with you, Mr. Straw. That's a shame, Agent Coots. You'll just have to accept the consequences of not taking my help. And what consequences would those be?

I think you know what the consequences are going to be.

“If you want to drive for all the glory for yourself, good luck to you.”

By the way, what do you think about that fire out of the pond? The fire chief has an under control. He'll be out there again tomorrow with better equipment. That's it. Aren't you supposed to be some sort of expert in these matters?

Anything else? Yeah. I heard you had another car accident. God's scared of a rabbit that was crossing the road. Is that what you told everyone?

Look, if you need a ride out to the pond or anywhere, you just let me know. Let's help our boy Petty's got all the right parts to fix her up. I appreciate that, Mr. Straw, JP, as I said, this is a matter for the FBI and the Sheriff's Office. There's really no reason to continue this conversation.

Suit yourself. I'll see you down the road, Agent Coots. That burned rubber smell that came off of JP's straw seemed to waft right out of the foam receiver, and once again I got that feeling like I wasn't alone. Almost before I knew what I was doing, I was pulling the shower curtain back,

no one in the bathroom, no one in the closet, there was no one under the bed either. How did he know so much?

“Had I even told anyone I suspected gave welder's stepdad?”

Just speaking with JP made me feel like his eyes were on me and I had to get out of my room to escape. I managed to talk myself down on the elevator. He's just some idiot PI. He's probably like one of those psychics who's good at gasing and pulls the wool over victims' families when they're at their lowest. It happens all the time. They tell someone they can find a missing loved one for a small sum,

then vanish. They usually just take the money and run. JP was sticking around. Why? But I didn't have to stick around. Jarvis the welder was very much on the axis as far as I was concerned. I couldn't sleep now so I walked straight out the front door. I knew more or less where Jarvis's welding shack was.

It was time to put this case down and get out of here. [Music]

and neon signs under the blood red sky.

“The building festoomed with Christmas lights towered over everything else in the town.”

Insisting that fun was the focal point of life here. It was a bold claim on this gloomy empty street. The lights were on in the diner but I didn't see anyone in there as I passed. There were just a few cars in the massive parking lot behind the casino. It was cold but I had my coat on.

The sun was gone but a red glow rippled through the smoke and clouds overhead. There was no one on the street but I swore I felt a swarm of dark presents as passed over my head. They felt like the ghosts I sometimes used to see. I started walking faster. A few blocks into the residential neighborhood. I tried to imagine what it would be like to grow up in one of these small town desert bungalows.

Where Christmas was always just around every corner.

Do they imagine Christmas like people in the east do with pine trees and snow and cozy fires and big family get together? My own little Christmas isn't Michigan didn't fit that mold either. Christmas mornings it was just me and my mother. My mother let me pick out my own presents at the store so I always knew what I was getting. I thought it was great. Then I'd spend the day playing with new toys.

Jordan's Christmas is with Katie May must have been pretty quiet too. If I'd been abducted as a

“kid, I think I would have wanted to be on this side of knowing that Santa wasn't real.”

The longer I was in sunny side, the more I saw the town through the eyes of Jordan and Celine and Gabe, these streets would have been their whole world and I could feel them running down the sidewalks and hear them laughing. A patrol car drove by slowly trying to see who I was. I recognized the deputy. We nodded at each other and he drove on. So far, Jarvis was my best bet and the only person of interest. He could have had an

accomplice or he could have gotten one later after Gabe. Gabe had disappeared last. I'd keep an open mind but a perverted stepdad was a lot more plausible but a satanic

called performing rituals. Like I said, my first thought was that it was dumb kids.

Jarvis may well have had the maturity of a kid despite being in his 30s. I emerged from the residential area onto a street with a lumber yard and a tile store. The shop where Jarvis worked was supposed to be just up the road. There were a couple of little mechanical electrical shops across the street. I couldn't make out the signs. There was a simple corrugated metal shack across the street. I took a few steps towards it.

Jarvis, it was just around APM but there he was. He came out of the shack, carrying something. I froze and he had his back to me. He walked around behind the shed and I heard him drop something and I saw a brief glow. I ran as quietly as I could to the side of the shed where he wouldn't be able to see me. The door closed and I tiptoed around the back. There were a couple of windows on the shed but they were high above my head. I couldn't tell for sure but in the

dark it looked like they were tinted or maybe opaque with filth. Peaking around the back of the shed, there was an oil drum in the yard with a fire in it. What the hell was he burning out here at this hour? He didn't seem with a kind to burn the midnight oil. I plastered myself against the side of the shed. It didn't seem like he was coming back. The sound of metal banging from inside the shed may be thing Jarvis was wrapped up in something so I crept up to the oil drum and looked

inside. A few tree branches were burning in there, some cardboard but smoldering on top was some kind of clothing, dark blue denim, cheeses. I almost grabbed a branch that was sticking out and I was going to use the branch to pull the clothes out but if this was evidence I had no warrant

“it would never be admitted in court since this was private property. Could I claim it was an emergency?”

Maybe there was a kid in that I jumped back into the shadows and out of sight.

down the tailgate, he reached in and struggled to pull something out from the back. He got it out

and I saw that it was a kid's bike, gave's bike. He was wheeling into the shed. I don't know what got the better of me. Hey, I walked straight over and grabbed a bike by the

“handlebars. Jarvis stopped and stood frozen there. What the hell are you doing here?”

You can't touch my property? Whose bike is this? Gaves. What's it doing here? Our eyes were locked. I had my hand on the bike still even though I knew I should have let go right away. That kid left his shit everywhere. Out there in the dark, it somehow didn't feel entirely real.

I couldn't stand this man taking away Gaves' bike so I pulled it from him as hard as I could

out of some blind need. The handlebars just came off in my hand. I stood there stunned, not understanding what had happened. The bike was old and rusty and the handlebars had just come right off the frame. Why the fuck did you do that? You broke his fucking bike. In the firelight, the fury flashed in his eyes. He was tearing me limb from limb with his eyes and only my badge prevented him from

“actually doing it. I stood there gutted with the handlebars in my hand and without the badge,”

I might have smashed his head in with them. You got to warn it. You get the fuck off my property now. I took half a step towards him. I felt myself raising the handlebars. The people, this guy's shitty evasive lies, gave a little bedroom with his toys. I was out here to find Gabe. I'd broken his bike. Those angry hating eyes. I was going to smash them in once and for all. The red and blue lights made the whole thing unreal swimming.

Asian Coots. Asian Coots? He broke my kids' bike. The deputy was there beside me. He driven up in his cruiser and I hadn't even noticed. I've been looking all over for you. The sheriff says I got to bring you out to the pond. He came when my property without my permission. He broke my kids' bike.

“I threw the handlebars on the ground. What happened to his bike? I asked him what he was doing”

with Gabe's bike out here and he couldn't give me a straight answer. He put his hands on my property. I'm going to have to weld it back together now. Your Gabe stepped out. I heard you had a people in his room. Is that right? No. How about you take your broken bike and get out of here before anything else gets broken? I need to take Asian Coots. He was trespassing. Are you fucking serious? I told you to get out of here. He just dropped the bike frame and stormed

into the shed, muttering. Sheriff told me to get you out to the pond. I saw you walking earlier. Come on, we'll catch up to him. In the deputy's car, he told me what had happened and somehow I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. We drove out of town and the deputy was driving fast. Somewhere, out on the highway, right around the ridge, we caught up to the Sheriff's Jimmy and I just

stared ahead of the red tail lights. The glow from the fire got brighter as we went further out there. The deputy didn't say much of anything now. Not about Jarvis or about anything else. That feeling, the handlebars coming loose. I've still felt it in my hands.

Gives bike that he'd driven all over. Adults never know how much these things mean to a kid.

That bike was how he got around town. How he got to see his friends. And how he got away from that demented dog and that hell of his home and neighborhood. And I'd broken that. And now we were going out to where I'd crashed my car. I just watched the red tail lights. And then the red and blue lights flashing out over the desert. Like they were search lights, surveying the sand and dirt for any sign of life. I felt awake, but I was dazed.

I could have dosed in the cruiser like that all night. Watching red light follow blue light and nursing those addictive, sickening thoughts. It wasn't a welcome sight when I saw, often the distance. The lights of another police vehicle. Another set of headlights. And the telltale little cones of white light that meant others were at the scene with flashlights. I was going to have to get out of the cruiser. The new crime scene was just west of the pond. The glow scene brighter in the distance

We got out and my stomach clenched when I saw the Sheriff walking over. I knew what he was going

“to say. We spoke and he led us towards two bright headlights. When we got closer I saw the flatbed”

truck. Petey the mechanic was lying there on the road with his eyes wide open looking at the sky

as if he was still trying to see. His eyes glistened in the headlights of his truck.

“It looked like he'd trimmed his mustache this morning. His stomach was ripped open. He was wearing”

an AC DC shirt under his jean jacket. The T-shirt and jacket were both ruined now.

Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen. You probably have been out here a few hours before you found them.

The ancient couges this is Sheriff Wilkes from Cropa School County. It's his case since we're in Nevada, but he called me and since Peter's one of mine. Who found him? You know,

“Verve? He's over there if you want to talk to him. Verve was leaning against the deputy's car”

smoking. Sheriff still water in the deputy kept talking and I took a few steps away from the lights. I looked up and almost thought I saw all the dark stars above the glowing red smoke. I walked around the side of the flatbed and sure enough there was my car. Peter was out here trying to pick up my car and he was stabbed to death. That was episode seven. The news featuring Roamy Evans as the reporter,

Mike Musurkovich as the deputy and Pete Flatiche as Sheriff still water JP Stra and Jarvis. A reminder to visit harvianheld.com to find out about ad-free early access and other ways to support the show. Thank you for listening and hope to see you next week.