Part 5: The Marsh Refinery (Part 1) - Documents
The FedsFebruary 8, 1922
Night
During my interrogation, it became clear apparent that the FBI has been
watching Innsmouth for some time. Mackey was the Bureau's inside man; now he's
missing as well.
Hoover and his boys are going to mount a raid on the Marsh Refinery - and I'm
invited whether I want to go or not. As if I haven't been through enough in the
last twenty-four hours.
I tried to tell Hoover what's waiting for them in that refinery - what's
lurking beneath the surface of the town - but he didn't believe me. I can't say
I'm surprised; I wouldn't believe me either, if I hadn't seen it for myself.
And Hoover hasn't seen what I've seen.
From the questions Hoover asked me, the Bureau knows next to nothing about
Innsmouth or the Refinery, even though the FBI has been watching Innsmouth for
some time.
That's not surprising, since it cut itself off from the outside world more than
fifty years ago and no-one outside of Innsmouth's been inside the Refinery
since then.
I guess Mackey didn't tell him much - or he didn't believe Mackey any more than
he believed me.
Hoover thinks the old gold Refinery is the main source of wealth for the Marsh
family and is a base of some kind of criminal gang.
He figures that a lot more gold comes out of the mill than is possible from the
amounts of raw ore they buy, and he wants to know why.
I guess I thought things were pretty simple too, when I first came to
Innsmouth. Now, I envy him his ignorance.
I must have been a sight when they found me; they certainly loaded me up with
sedatives. They've almost worn off now, but I'm feeling drained.
I wish I could blame the drugs for the dreams I had while I was out, but they
were just like the dreams from the other night at the Gilman Hotel.
The dreams keep on getting clearer, more like memories. I'm getting fleeting
images of other things, too - they just seem to pop up from somewhere in my
mind for no apparent reason.
I have no idea what they mean - except that I need to keep a grip on myself. I
don't want a return trip to the Arkham Asylum.
The raid is set for tomorrow. I'd give anything to avoid going back to that
town. The Feds handed me back Ruth's brooch, which they found in the wreckage
of the car crash... another painful memory.
Letter from Sebastian Marsh
My dear family,
I expect to return home shortly. I look forward to seeing you all again.
I believe my trip has been a fruitful one. I have met with many potential
buyers for our product, and as I predicted, met with few concerns. All are
aware that history is written by the victor, and that treaties and laws must
bow to the fact of conquest. And what, indeed, is so moral about a bullet or a
bomb, that sets them above other means of death?
I shall speak with you all further upon my return. I shall have much to say to
Robert, in particular; it is of the utmost importance that our personal beliefs
and agendas remain subordinate to the overall good of the family and the town.
As the time draws ever closer, it becomes more imperative that we act as one.
If he is unwilling to do so, he must be compelled, for all our sakes. In
particular, he must remove his beast to another part of the refinery without
delay.
My love and blessings are upon you all.
I'a Dagon! I'a Hydra! I'a! I'a!
Sebastian