At 9 a.m. today the body of Halpin Chalmers, author and
journalist, was found in an empty room above the jewelry store
of Smithwick and Isaacs, 24 Central Square. The coroner's
investigation revealed that the room had been rented _furnished_
to Mr. Chalmers on May 1, and that he had himself disposed of the
furniture a fortnight ago. Chalmers was the author of several
recondite books on occult themes, and a member of the Bibliographic
Guild. He formerly resided in Brooklyn, New York.
At 7 a.m. Mr. L. E. Hancock, who occupies the apartment opposite
Chalmers' room in the Smithwick and Isaacs establishment, smelt
a peculiar odor when he opened his door to take in his cat and
the morning edition of the _Partridgeville Gazette_. The odor he
describes as extremely acrid and nauseous, and he affirms that it
was so strong in the vicinity of Chalmers' room that he was obliged
to hold his nose when he approached that section of the hall.
He was about to return to his own apartment when it occurred to him
that Chalmers might have accidentally forgotten to turn off the gas
in his kitchenette. Becoming considerably alarmed at the thought,
he decided to investigate, and when repeated tappings on Chalmers'
door brought no response he notified the superintendent. The latter
opened the door by means of a pass key, and the two men quickly
made their way into Chalmers' room. The room was utterly destitute
of furniture, and Hancock asserts that when he first glanced at the
floor his heart went cold within him, and that the superintendent,
without saying a word, walked to the open window and stared at the
building opposite for fully five minutes.
Chalmers lay stretched upon his back in the center of the room.
He was starkly nude, and his chest and arms were covered with a
peculiar bluish pus or ichor. His head lay grotesquely upon his
chest. It had been completely severed from his body, and the
features were twisted and torn and horribly mangled. Nowhere was
there a trace of blood.
[Illustration: "He was starkly nude, and twisted and torn."]
The room presented a most astonishing appearance. The intersections
of the walls, ceiling and floor had been thickly smeared with
plaster of Paris, but at intervals fragments had cracked and
fallen off, and someone had grouped these upon the floor about the
murdered man so as to form a perfect triangle.
Beside the body were several sheets of charred yellow paper. These
bore fantastic geometric designs and symbols and several hastily
scrawled sentences. The sentences were almost illegible and so
absurd in context that they furnished no possible clue to the
perpetrator of the crime. "I am waiting and watching," Chalmers
wrote. "I sit by the window and watch walls and ceiling. I do not
believe they can reach me, but I must beware of the Doels. Perhaps
_they_ can help them break through. The satyrs will help, and they
can advance through the scarlet circles. The Greeks knew a way of
preventing that. It is a great pity that we have forgotten so much."
On another sheet of paper, the most badly charred of the seven
or eight fragments found by Detective Sergeant Douglas (of the
Partridgeville Reserve), was scrawled the following:
"Good God, the plaster is falling! A terrific shock has loosened
the plaster and it is falling. An earthquake perhaps! I never could
have anticipated this. It is growing dark in the room. I must phone
Frank. But can he get here in time? I will try. I will recite the
Einstein formula. I will--God, they are breaking through! They are
breaking through! Smoke is pouring from the corners of the wall.
Their _tongues_--ahhhhh----"
In the opinion of Detective Sergeant Douglas, Chalmers was poisoned
by some obscure chemical. He has sent specimens of the strange
blue slime found on Chalmers' body to the Partridgeville Chemical
Laboratories; and he expects the report will shed new light on
one of the most mysterious crimes of recent years. That Chalmers
entertained a guest on the evening preceding the earthquake
is certain, for his neighbor distinctly heard a low murmur of
conversation in the former's room as he passed it on his way to the
stairs. Suspicion points strongly to this unknown visitor and the
police are diligently endeavoring to discover his identity.
4
_Report of James Morton, chemist and bacteriologist_:
My dear Mr. Douglas:
The fluid sent to me for analysis is the most peculiar that I
have ever examined. It resembles living protoplasm, but it lacks
the peculiar substances known as enzymes. Enzymes catalyze the
chemical reactions occurring in living cells, and when the cell
dies they cause it to disintegrate by hydrolyzation. Without
enzymes protoplasm should possess enduring vitality, i.e.,
immortality. Enzymes are the negative components, so to speak, of
unicellular organism, which is the basis of all life. That living
matter can exist without enzymes biologists emphatically deny.
And yet the substance that you have sent me is alive and it lacks
these "indispensable" bodies. Good God, sir, do you realize what
astounding new vistas this opens up?
5
_Excerpt from_ The Secret Watchers _by the late Halpin Chalmers_:
What if, parallel to the life we know, there is another life that
does not die, which lacks the elements that destroy _our_ life?
Perhaps in another dimension there is a _different_ force from
that which generates our life. Perhaps this force emits energy,
or something similar to energy, which passes from the unknown
dimension where _it_ is and creates a new form of cell life in
our dimension. No one knows that such new cell life does exist in
our dimension. Ah, but I have seen _its_ manifestations. I have
_talked_ with them. In my room at night I have talked with the
Doels. And in dreams I have seen their maker. I have stood on the
dim shore beyond time and matter and seen _it_. _It_ moves through
strange curves and outrageous angles. Some day I shall travel in
time and meet _it_ face to face.