[clock ticking]
[clock ticking]
Good morning, Mr. Evans.
Monday morning is never good.
Anything important?
David Norliss on three.
Ah.
Hello, David. Been a while.
How's the book coming?
Sanford, I've gotta talk to you.
I know, you're gonna tell me it's only half-written,
and we're gonna have to delay our--
Half-written, hell. I don't have a word on paper.
It's been almost a year.
I know how long it's been, Sanford.
But I, uh...
I can't write it.
I'm afraid to write it.
You're not making sense.
We gave you a sizable advance
to write a book debunking the supernatural,
which was your idea, not ours.
And now you tell me, a year later,
you haven't even started it.
I'm into the book.
Deep into it.
But, uh...
it's on...on tapes.
A series of tapes. When you hear them, you'll understand.
What will I understand?
How far I've gone.
How dangerous this whole thing is.
Sanford, I have to talk to you.
David, you sound very strange.
Are you all right?
David, are you all right?
Yeah.
Okay. Okay, what about The Canellia Room for lunch tomorrow?
That's no good. I have to see you now.
It's Monday, Dave. You know what Mondays are like.
Why not tomorrow?
Tomorrow might be too late.
Do you wish to order now, sir?
No, just bring me a phone.
[phone rings]
[phone rings]
[phone rings]
[phone rings]
[phone rings]
[phone rings]
That was a week ago.
He never showed for lunch, never phoned to explain why,
and I haven't been able to contact him since.
Sanford, you should be used to eccentric writers by now.
And, in my opinion, David Norliss
is just a bit more eccentric than most.
Man, I'll never get over this view.
There is something wrong.
I wish you'd check this thing out, find out where he is.
Sanford, I'm his lawyer, not his nursemaid.
Please.
All right, I'll look into it.
I still say you're making too much of a broken lunch date.
Sanford! Sanford!
Oh, good. I was hoping I'd see you.
Yeah, glad I ran into you.
Have you got time to catch the cable with me?
Where are you going?
I'm going up to the club.
All right, fine. We'll have a drink.
Good. Yeah.
I, uh, have been terribly worried.
I tried to phone you earlier.
Well, I was in a publisher's meeting.
Tied up the whole bloody afternoon.
Sanford, I'm sorry I didn't take you very seriously
in the meeting the other day.
Well?
I just thought you were making much too much of it.
I hope you have something.
What'd you find out?
Nobody knows where David is. Nobody's seen him.
He's just...gone.
Are you sure?
We checked every possible source,
everything conceivable.
It seems incredible to me.
David?
[David] Notes for introduction.
Today is Thursday, September 25,
and I might as well get started with this thing,
get the book rolling with what I've got so far.
God knows, it isn't taking the direction I assumed it would.
This whole thing began when my natural writer's curiosity
was aroused by an article I had read in a weekly periodical.
The article was concerned with the commercial aspects
of spiritualism and the occult.
My original idea was to expose the phonies
who are bilking millions of dollars each year
out of their gullible victims,
to go after the fake mediums, phony astrologers,
the self-proclaimed seers and trick mystics.
I was successful at this for some time.
The floating face, which was a dummy's head on a wire,
the ghost of a woman's son
who turned out to be the medium's own kid in a weird get-up.
The fortune teller who's life images in a crystal ball
were supplied by a hidden film projector.
But then I got into this business with Ellen Cort.
I had better try to get this down exactly the way it happened.
Ellen Sterns Cort was recently widowed.
Her late husband, James Raymond Cort,
was a successful sculptor from a well-to-do family.
He worked from a studio on the grounds of his estate in Carmel.
When he married, he brought Ellen there to live.
The night before she came to see me,
she'd undergone a very bizarre and frightening experience.
Shortly after midnight, she was awakened from a sound sleep
by the barking of her dog, Rollie.
[dog barking]
What is it, Rollie?
What's the matter, boy? Is somebody out there?
[dog barking]
Show me.
Okay, show me what you want.
Okay. Easy. Easy, boy. Easy.
[growling]
The following night, Mrs. Cort came to see me.
Actually, her sister, Marsha Sterns,
an acquaintance of mine, had set up the meeting.
Marsha knew about my work in the supernatural.
When Ellen called her about the incident,
Marsha had Ellen contact me.
And the police found only the body of my dog Rollie,
his next snapped, ribs broken.
They analyzed the blood stains on the floor,
and they were his. All his.
Are you sure you hit the man
when you fired the shotgun?
I'm telling you, I hit him.
Well, think about it. You were upset, you saw your dog killed.
You could've missed.
I've handled guns before.
He was right in front of me
in my direct line of fire.
The charges hit him, smashed him backwards,
and that's when I ran.
But when the police arrived,
there wasn't a trace of him.
No, he was gone.
And when I told them who it was,
they wouldn't believe me.
Now, that's why I've come to you.
Mrs. Cort, why wouldn't the police believe you?
Because the man I shot was already dead.
It was Jim.
My dead husband, James Cort.
Ellen Cort seemed convinced that she had encountered
the risen form of her recently entombed husband.
I asked her to describe the circumstances surrounding Cort's death.
Jim had been feeling very bad.
We didn't know why, and our family doctor
suggested that he undergo a series of tests at the Frasier Clinic.
That's when we discovered he was suffering
from a terminal disease of the brain called Pick's Disease.
I've heard of it.
There's no cure, there's no treatment,
and he-- I don't know,
Jim just seemed to change almost overnight.
He was confined to a wheelchair, would no longer work.
He even had me board up his studio.
He wouldn't even talk about his work.
Was he at all involved with the supernatural?
Yes, he was.
And it started just before his death.
Tell me about that.
I'd arranged an exhibit of Jim's sculptures
at the Langdon Gallery,
and he met a woman there named Madame Jeckiel.
She owns an antique shop here in San Francisco,
and part of her business involves the occult.
In what way?
She deals with objects
that are supposed to have occult power.
She even claims to cure the sick, and Jim believed her.
Hmm. No doubt asking for a lot of money, too.
No. No, she didn't.
As far as I know, Jim never gave her a penny.
Not even for that ring.
What ring?
An Egyptian scarab.
Something to do with the god Osiris.
Osiris is an Egyptian god
involved with the doctrine of immortality.
Yes. The ring was part of an agreement he made with her.
You use the word agreement.
What kind of agreement did they have?
I wish I could tell you. I can't.
All I know is Jim accepted that ring
in return for some kind of promise.
He refused to discuss it.
Where's the ring now?
Do you know where it is?
Yes.
It's in his coffin.
His coffin?
Jim even specified that he was to be buried with that ring,
that it be kept on his hand.
And his body is in the crypt
on the grounds of the estate?
That's where his body should be,
but after what I saw last night,
I don't know anymore.
The next afternoon, I had lunch with Marsha,
who was taking a flight to New York.
She was quite worried about her sister.
You know I'm not easy to panic.
And when Ellen phoned me, I knew she was desperate.
I suggested she talk to you.
Actually, we haven't been close for over 3 years
since she married that James Cort.
Why, didn't you get along with Cort?
No, I didn't.
And when Ellen married him, it affected our relationship.
We just haven't seen very much of each other.
And now, when she really needs me, I can't be here.
How long do you have to be in New York?
Well, only a few days,
but I felt that we should talk before I left.
It's important.
If she says that she saw James alive,
Well, then, somehow-- Marsha.
If I didn't believe she was telling me the truth,
and she knows it, I wouldn't be here.
I know, but it's just all so fantastic.
I mean, how could such a thing be possible?
I don't know,
but we're certainly going to try to find out.
However, before I was able to contact Ellen again,
another bizarre incident occurred.
That night in Carmel, a salesgirl was closing her shop for the day.
Millie Parks. Pretty, blond, in her early twenties,
was tired after a full day's work.
She was anxious to close up, get into her car,
and drive the six miles to her home,
a small one-story beach house on the ocean near Big Sur.
[cat howls]
[screams]
[Truck Driver] Just my luck, you know.
I'm running late, trying to make Frisco by 3:00,
and this happens.
I never would've seen it.
I was so tired, I was almost asleep at the wheel.
If that other rig hadn't come along in the opposite direction
and given me a blast, I might never have seen it.
It's unbelievable.
[Truck Driver] Sheriff, huh?
I suppose he'll wanna talk to me about it.
All right.
Get a blanket over that fast.
Hey, come here. I wanna talk to you over here.
Gene, Mike, get these spectators out of here.
Come here. Is that the way you found her?
Yeah, but I ain't seen nobody ever look like that
after no car crash, Sheriff. She was, like--
Never mind what she was.
You just keep shut on that part of it.
Anybody asks you, you just found her dead in the car.
Sheriff, nobody looks like that after--
I just got through telling you
I don't want any more talk about this at all.
Now is that clear?
Yeah, it's clear, but let me ask you something.
How am I gonna forget the color of that face?
Help him get on his way, will ya? Charlie?
Charlie?
I'm putting the lid on this one.
Nobody talks to anybody about the condition of the deceased.
Give me your mic.
This is Sheriff Hartley. We have a 946.
Let me talk to the coroner.
Now, you know where I am if you need me.
Sid.
Ah, can't you ever be on time?
What've you been so sour about?
What do you think?
You know, every time I manage to steal an afternoon,
up come the rain clouds.
Don't know what you're crying about. Doesn't look so bad to me.
Well, if I came from Chicago,
it wouldn't look so bad to me, either.
Hey, what about the autopsy report?
I didn't get it yet. Oh, might be ready now.
Why don't I call the office and find out?
It's gonna take a couple of minutes.
Why don't you go get changed?
Unless you wanna play in those.
Aren't you funny. I'll meet you on the first tee.
What'd you get, Sid?
Extraordinary case.
I've never heard of anything like this in my life.
Even when I was a lab assistant in Chicago, we never--
Never mind Chicago. What about this girl?
The cause of death was strangulation,
but from the depth of the indentation marks in her neck,
it seems that the murderer must have possessed exceptional strength.
Okay, I know she was strangled.
What I wanna find out is what else was done to her.
All right. That's the extraordinary part.
The sallow skin cast and the collapsed sack-like appearance of the body
was a direct result of a total evacuation of all the main arteries.
Oh, Sid, I don't--
All right, I'll make it simple for you.
The girl's body was totally drained of blood.
It was-- [sighs]
Look, I don't want the media to get a hold of this.
That's all I need, a bunch of newspaper men crawling up my back.
Now, I can see the headlines now.
"Vampire Killer Loose In Monterey."
What can you do for me?
I'll do the best I can, but I can't guarantee anything.
You know that I have to file a report.
I cannot falsify the report. You know that.
You know damn well I don't want you
to do anything like that.
All I want kept under wraps
is the condition of the corpse,
not the fact that she was murdered.
Look, I gotta have time to work this thing out.
Okay, I understand.
I'll try and keep it under wraps for you.
Okay. That's one favor I owe you.
From the looks of that, I'm gonna have to take two shots a side.
Sid, now, you know the only people
who give shots are doctors.
Tee it up.
The morning I drove down from San Francisco, the weather was foul.
A curtain of cold rain fell from a gunmetal gray sky.
I'd set up a meeting with Sheriff Hartley in Carmel
to discuss the Ellen Cort situation.
I didn't expect much cooperation from him,
but it was worth a try, a way to begin.
When I pulled up in front of Hartley's office,
the sky had begun to clear
and the sun was breaking through.
I hoped it was a good omen.
Mr. Norliss, at the risk of seeming inhospitable,
I just don't understand why any of this
would interest a man who spends his time, uh...
[chuckles]
...chasing ghosts.
I'm sure you find this all very amusing, Sheriff.
Mrs. Cort swears her husband is alive.
She asked me to help her, I agreed to.
What do you want from me?
Any information that ties in
with the man she shot in her husband's studio.
Shot at. It's plain she missed him.
Nobody can take a shotgun charge and keep walking.
Look, she saw an intruder, she went panicky.
It could've been anybody,
some bum looking to spend the night indoors.
It gets cold out here in these woods at night.
Now, I'll bet you that right now your "ghost"
has hopped a freight and is halfway to Chicago.
As for information, I don't have any to give.
What about that girl who was murdered in her car the other night?
The late Millie Parks.
Well, what about it?
Well, I stopped in town before I came here,
and I heard a few people talking about it.
Well, it's like they say,
read all about it in your daily newspaper.
I have.
Somebody hid in the car, strangled her, the car hit a tree.
And that's all there is to it.
Mm-hmm. Are you sure that's all there is to it?
Mr. Norliss, now are you saying
there's some connection between that dead girl and Mrs. Cort's ghost?
I'm not saying anything, I'm just asking questions.
That's what I get paid for.
And I'll handle it, if it's all right with you, Mr. Norliss.
Sure, Sheriff, it's all right with me.
It just seems that there are a lot of nervous people in town.
I think they saw a lot more than they're willing to talk about.
Like I said...
That's police business.
Okay. Thanks for the information.
Think maybe he's on to something?
On to what?
Now, there's a very simple explanation to this whole thing.
All we've gotta do is find it.
I hope so, Tom. I sure hope so.
Oh.
As I headed for the Cort estate along the 17-mile drive,
acres of lush cypress and tall pine loomed over me.
The ocean below bellowed and roared,
smashing into the coastline,
spilling white foam along the sand.
There's no doubt this rugged peninsula country
could give the French Riviera tough competition.
But on this afternoon, my mind really wasn't on the scenery.
I kept thinking about the girl
who had been murdered the night before,
trying to tie what I knew about her
into the story Ellen had told me.
I had a gut hunch the two were connected.
How, I didn't know,
but I was going to have to try and find out.
Hello, Mrs. Cort.
I really do appreciate your coming.
It's really a beautiful place.
It was, but it isn't anymore.
Not for me.
I let the servants go after Jim's death.
Now I'm trying to sell the estate.
Would you like some coffee?
Sure.
You mean to tell me you're out here all alone?
I had Mrs. Harrison with me until today.
She'd been with the family for years,
so I kept her on to look after the place,
but that girl's murder frightened her.
She turned in her notice this morning.
Said she wouldn't stay this far out of town after dark.
Well, she makes sense.
I think it'd be a good idea
if you went back into town with me tonight
and stayed at the inn.
Well, I guess maybe you're right.
I didn't sleep a wink last night.
Every time the house creaked, my skin scrawled.
I kept imagining I heard noises from the woods.
Think we could take a look at your husband's studio?
Sure. I'll get the keys.
You say the dog led you in this direction?
Yes, I practically had to run to keep up with him.
What time did he wake you up?
Just after midnight.
There it is, over there.
Jim loved this place.
Used to be a barn before he converted it into a studio.
From what the people in town tell me,
your husband was something of a recluse.
Well, I suppose that's true, but he liked being alone.
After we were married, I had a studio set up in the main house,
but he never used it.
He'd always come out here to work.
Called it his personal hideaway.
Is this from the dog?
Yes. All of it.
He killed Rollie as easily as you'd smash a fly,
and he was a German Shepherd,
a very powerful animal.
And you say you had to unlock the door to get in.
That's right.
The only question is how did he get inside?
Is this the corner he came from?
Yes.
He was standing right here.
I'll never forget his eyes.
They were horrible, wild, and staring at me.
How long has it been since you've been out here?
I haven't been here since Jim died.
Now you don't believe me, do you?
What do you believe?
I don't know.
[Ellen] But I'm still confused about the ring.
It must be worth a great deal of money.
[David] Why do you say that?
Because Charles Langdon phoned me yesterday regarding the purchase
of all the studio sculptures.
When he mentioned the ring,
I told him it wasn't for sale.
Well, what did he say?
He became quite upset.
And that's when I hung up.
Maybe I should have a talk with Langdon.
Look, while I'm in San Francisco, do me a favor.
Find out all you can about that murder the other night.
There's something about that girl's death they're trying to hide.
Well, then you think there's a connection
between what happened to me and the Parks girl?
I don't know. That's what I'm gonna find out.
I'll call you tonight.
Hello.
May I be of some assistance?
Yes, you might.
You tell Mr. Langdon that David Norliss is here to see him.
If you'll be so kind as to follow me.
Mr. Langdon, a Mr. Norliss to see you.
May I help you?
Uh, David Norliss.
Oh, I know you.
I enjoyed one of your books very much.
Really? Which one?
I have a terrible memory for titles.
It dealt with undersea life,
and I believe it was off the coast of Yugoslavia?
The Man Below. I'm glad you liked it.
I did.
You're the only one who read it.
Come, may I show you something here?
No, thank you. I would like to ask you some questions.
Regarding your association with James Raymond Cort.
Oh?
You see, I'm looking into his death.
Looking into? In what capacity?
As a private investigator working for Mrs. Cort.
Well, I'd be glad to help Ellen,
but, I mean, it seems a little bit on the bizarre side.
There was nothing of a mysterious nature about James' death.
Well, then you won't mind answering a few questions, will you?
Fire ahead.
How well did you know him?
Oh, we were closely associated.
You see, our gallery is the main outlet
for James' work here in San Francisco for the past several years.
I've placed a great number of his works with collectors,
and I've arranged for a few special commissions, things of that sort.
Hmm? How much do you know about the occult, Mr. Langdon?
Very little, actually. Doesn't interest me at all.
Hmm. That's interesting because Mrs. Cort was saying--
Uh, could we talk upstairs?
Sure.
Please.
You see, I somehow got the impression
that you were responsible for Mr. Cort's fascination with the supernatural.
No, it was simply a manifestation of his disease.
You do know Madame Jeckiel, don't you?
In a business sense.
I frequently send people to her shop.
She has excellent tastes.
Accepts some really splendid items from time to time.
Hmm. See, I was told that he met her here in your gallery.
Yes, we had James' last exhibition.
I introduced them, as a matter of fact,
though, frankly, I wish I hadn't.
His obsession with the supernatural began with Madame Jeckiel.
What about that ring he got from her?
You know anything about that?
Apparently, it's from Egypt. It's very ancient.
Known to collectors of antique jewelry as the Osiris Scarab.
Valuable.
It's true value is difficult to determine.
The beetle, as you know, is the symbol of immortality.
There are rumors that the Osiris Scarab is a life ring,
capable of granting restorative powers to its wearer.
You believe that?
Hardly. Myth and nonsense.
Why do you want the ring so badly?
Apparently, Ellen told you of my interest.
Obviously.
I deal in antique art and objects, Mr. Norliss.
This ring is such an object.
It has a fascination for those of us who are connoisseurs,
so, certainly, I should like to own the Osiris Scarab.
Well, Mrs. Cort told me that you demanded to know
why the ring wasn't for sale.
Well, naturally, I was disappointed,
and I vented my disappointment over the telephone.
It was purely an emotion of the moment.
So she didn't tell you why she wouldn't sell the ring
or where it is?
No, she did not.
Do you know where it is?
Mm-hmm.
You see, Mr. Cort's will declared that the ring
should be buried with him.
It's now on his finger in the family crypt.
How curious. How very curious.
[quiet footsteps]
[screaming]
I had a private agreement with Mr. Cort.
Now, it's no business of yours or anybody else's.
I keep private business private.
Madame Jeckiel, Mrs. Cort thinks her husband is alive.
As a matter of fact, she thinks she saw him.
In the studio?
Well, now, isn't that interesting?
How did you know where she saw him?
Jim always loved being in the studio,
and his presence might linger there.
Oh, come on! This was no presence. This was a real man.
Real enough to kill a dog
and take a double shotgun blast in the chest.
Why are you telling me this?
Look, this has nothing to do with me.
Well, I think it has a lot to do with you.
And the ring you gave to Cort.
All part of a puzzle, and I'd thought you'd help me
put the pieces together.
There's nothing I can say.
What about the studio?
I think you know something about the studio,
and it's linked with the ring.
Look, I'm gonna tell you something.
You stay away from that place.
Stay away from the whole Cort estate.
Why?
It's the House of Sargoth.
[phone rings]
Hello?
Ellen, it's David. How are you?
Okay, but it sure is raining here.
Listen, I think I'm on to something.
I saw Madame Jeckiel.
She wasn't too talkative, but she did make a slip
in reference to James' studio.
I think this whole thing ties in to the studio.
I'm gonna be down there in about an hour.
I'll pick you up at 11:30.
Well, where are we going?
Back to the studio. Now, you're familiar with it, and I'm not.
I wouldn't know what to look for,
but I'm convinced something is there.
Will you go with me?
I'll be ready. Okay.
It's almost midnight. I was worried.
I thought something might have happened to you.
The storm slowed me down. I was in a lot of heavy traffic.
What do you expect to find at the studio?
I don't know, I'm not sure.
Did you find anything out about the Parks girl?
Only that there seemed to be something strange about the body.
Like what?
Like she had no blood.
Through here.
I hate to put you through this.
I'd rather have done it alone.
No, I'm glad I can help.
Anyway, I was going stir crazy waiting back at the inn.
I wish I knew what to look for.
Anything odd or abnormal.
What's this?
I don't know. I've never seen it before.
Wasn't here the other day.
I know.
You sure he didn't start this just before he died?
No, this isn't his.
It's not like his work.
Look at the face.
And this clay.
What about it?
It's still damp.
Someone's still working on this thing.
But that's impossible. How could that be?
[growling and screaming]
[Ellen screams]
Here he comes!
[no audible dialogue]
[David] Thank you.
Okay. Mrs. Cort.
Mr. Norliss, you know, it's 2:00 in the morning.
Have you been drinking?
Look, I'm not gonna argue with you.
I saw Cort.
He was as close to me as you are.
Another one of your ghosts?
A ghost doesn't rip up a car door.
Take a look out the window.
He did that?
He did that.
Mrs. Cort, are you all right?
All right, let's go.
Get 'am around in the back, there, would ya?
All right, listen. Check this over here.
We're still trying to find a body.
He says he hit one, and we can't find it.
Get on, get over there.
It seems to me that you must've just grazed him with a fender.
I'm telling you, I hit him head on.
All right. Frank, Jim, search the main house.
The rest of you, check the studio and all the grounds.
You come with me.
Where?
I'm gonna see if Mr. Cort is at home to friends.
Come on with it. Let's go.
Someone's taken the body.
Did you hear what I said? That's all there is to it.
Somebody's taken the body.
Look, Hartley, what more do you need?
Now, you look, Mr. Norliss.
I just don't buy your zombie story.
As far as I'm concerned, we've got a prowler that looks like Mr. Cort
who assaulted you people when you caught him doing his job.
Mrs. Cort saw him--
Now, for his own reasons,
he removed Mr. Cort's body.
I'm still in the dark as to why,
but maybe it's to just follow up the disguise.
Explain the abnormal strength.
You think I pulled the door off the car?
I don't try to explain anything.
If I did, I would say that you snagged the open car door
on the garage in your hurry to get out.
Now, look. When people panic, they do funny things.
What're you gonna do about all of this?
Assuming that we don't find the prowler on the grounds,
and I agree, that's very unlikely,
then I'll have the woods searched.
In the meantime, it's late, and I'm tired.
I'm gonna take Mrs. Cort back to town.
You follow us.
When you get there, you can sign a complaint.
Let's give up on this wild goose chase.
[phone rings]
Who is this?
It's David. Are you all right?
I suppose so. They gave me a sedative.
What time is it?
It's afternoon. 2:00.
Where are you?
I'm at home.
Been trying to reach Charles Langdon.
Has he called you?
No. No one's called.
That sheriff still won't believe me.
Thinks we're both crazy.
Did you show him the sculpture we found?
No, no.
I don't want anyone touching that thing
until I can determine what it is, what it means.
I'm having the clay analyzed right now.
Sheriff Hartley wants me to
make a full statement at his office this afternoon.
What-- what should I tell him?
Tell him the truth.
Just leave out the sculpture.
David?
David, I'm still very frightened.
He's out there. Alive.
And you and I know he's out there.
Why won't the sheriff believe us?
Hey, what's it gonna take to make him believe us?
[Corliss] That night, Ellen's sister Marsha
drove down from San Francisco.
She'd returned from her trip to New York
earlier than expected.
And unfortunately,
when she tried to reach me,
I was out.
It was after midnight when she pulled into
the deserted Cort estate.
And when she found no one there,
she was already too tired
to make the half-hour drive to Carmel.
And since another storm was building,
Marsha decided to seek closer lodgings.
By the time she's arrived at the Orange Grove Motel,
a small, off-the-road scattering of faded cabins,
the storm had broken,
and the rain had begun to fall.
[thunder]
[knocking on door]
We're closed.
Please! Let me come in!
We're closed for the night!
Please! I need a room! Go away!
Poppa, will you tell her we're closed?
I'll tell her we're closed.
[Man] Now, look, lady!
My wife said--
Oh, please, could I come in?
It's so wet out here. I'm freezing to death.
Well, come on in.
Well, thank you.
Oh... It's awfully late.
But I could give you cabin number nine.
It's our best one.
New springs and mattress in there.
Just a shower. No tub bath. Is that all right?
[Marsha] Yeah, that's fine. That's fine. Really.
I said we're closed.
Can't turn the girl away, Momma.
No harm in giving her 9.
[Momma] Well, give her the key, and hurry up about it,
and come to bed, Poppa. Now.
[chuckles]
Momma. She gets a little grouchy after midnight.
I can handle her, though.
Well, I hope so.
I don't wanna cause you any trouble.
Oh, no trouble at all.
Now let's see. That will be 10 dollars.
Thank you. Ah, thank you.
Can I help you with your things?
No. No, thank you. I can manage.
Pleasant dreams.
[thunder]
[thunder]
[thunder]
[thunder]
[thunder]
[screams]
[glass shatters]
[screams] No! No!
[screaming]
[pounding on door] Open up! It's the manager!
What's going on in here?
[Manager] No, I didn't get a good look at him.
He just came wailing out.
And he knocked me sideways.
And he carried her off into the woods.
[Momma] I knew when she checked in that she was no good.
All right. Tell me what you did see.
Was he tall? Was he short?
Was he thin? Was he fat?
In what order do you remember?
Tall. And all wild in the eyes.
And he wore dark clothes.
All right. Now listen to me, Mr. Dobkins.
Mrs. Dobkins. And listen very good.
I'm gonna take you downtown, so that you can see some mug shots.
Now in the meantime,
if word of what happened here gets around,
this whole town's gonna go into a panic.
I don't want the newspapers to find out about it
until I have a chance to find the girl.
That means that you don't see anybody,
and you don't talk to anybody about what happened here.
Do you understand that? Oh, I won't say a word!
You understand that? Oh, I do! I certainly do.
Sheriff, there's just one thing I'd like to know.
Yeah?
What do I do if he comes back?
[Norliss] Helen, I just wanted to call and tell ya
I'll be late getting back there tonight.
Is your sister there?
[Ellen, on phone] Marsha? No.
I thought she was still in New York.
No, she tried to call me.
Got my service, and left a message.
Said she was driving home late last night.
[Ellen] I haven't seen her.
Well, maybe she changed her mind.
Thank you.
If she calls again, I'll tell her where you are.
Now, look. I'm at the architectural firm
who originally designed your place.
I found out how Cort got into the studio
without unlocking the door.
He came up from below.
These blueprints I've been looking at show
some very curious construction that went on back in the '20s.
Seems the people who originally owned the place
built a series of underground tunnels.
Why would anybody wanna build tunnels?
Well, during Prohibition,
they probably stored guns and liquor.
The plans also show several entrances,
one of which is in the crypt.
Now, I found the connection
between Cort and
the bloodless condition of the Parks girl.
I think the sculpture is being done by Cort.
And I think he needed the girl. Needed to kill her.
But why?
For the clay in the sculpture.
I just got the chemical analysis back.
The clay is 40 percent human blood.
Now look, Ellen. Stay put.
I have a few more things to check on,
and I'll be done as soon as I can.
Okay?
[shattering glass]
I've got to talk to you.
Now do you mind telling me
why you have to see David Norliss?
I've got to break free.
I've got to strike back at them.
The powers of darkness.
They've controlled me.
Twisted me.
And I've done their bidding.
Listen.
When I met your husband,
the thing he most wanted
in this world
was that his crippled body be healed.
And so...
I told him about the Osiris scarab.
I tried to convince him
about its power over death.
Of a life beyond death.
But that only by the use of his talent
could it be purchased.
So we made a pact.
After death,
the ring would allow him the power
to rise from his coffin,
to work on a figure of Sargoth.
Once the sculpture's finished,
it'll have a physical form
in which to enter our world.
And in return for bestowing life to Sargoth,
Jim Cort will be granted immortality.
But we can stop him.
That's why I came here.
His powers take effect after sundown.
If we can reach him by sunset,
we can remove the ring from his finger.
[Man] Mr. Norliss?
I have a message for you, sir.
Thank you.
When did Mrs. Cort leave?
Hm. 15 or 20 minutes ago, I guess.
She and the other lady, they left in a big hurry.
How long before it gets dark here?
Mm...about a half hour, I guess.
Entrance has got to be here someplace.
Over here! I think I found it.
[stone door grinding open]
I'll go first.
Maybe we should wait.
We don't have time. We can't wait.
[echoing footsteps]
This way.
How do we know which one to take?
We don't.
You take that tunnel, and I'll take this one.
What if I find his body?
Then you remove the ring.
Let us go.
[honks horn]
[honks again]
[honking]
[honking, tires squealing]
[tires squealing]
[wood creaking]
Ellen, I found him!
He's over here!
I can't get it off.
[whispers] Hurry...
[brakes screech]
Edith, hurry. Hurry!
I can't get it--
[screaming]
[yelps]
[panting, groaning]
[shrieks]
[screaming]
[screams]
No!
[unearthly moaning]
Ellen!
David! He killed Marsha. And Jeckiel too.
Come on! Let's go.
I don't know why he let me go.
I don't understand it.
It's no use. Nothing's any use.
Can't get it open.
It's been moved.
It's almost finished.
[Norliss] Everything but the eyes.
We can't let him come to life!
We've got to!
We've gotta let him finish!
[Ellen] Let me--! Forget it!
It's the only thing that can stop it.
What are you doing?
Making a blood circle.
According to medieval alchemy,
you can enter a blood circle.
But if it's on fire,
you can't get out.
[loud shifting] What's that?
Hurry!
[clinking glass]
Quick. Quick!
[creaking]
[crickets]
[growling groan]
[guttural scream]
[howling moan]
[roar]
[thunder, roaring]
[speaking in tongues]
[voice echoing]
[police sirens]
[indistinct police radio]
[police, shouting]
[Norliss] I tried to explain it all to Sheriff Hartley.
But he couldn't accept it.
The next morning, they found the bones
of a man in the ashes.
The remains of James Raymond Cort.
And of the demon Sargoth, they found nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
[rainstorm, thunder]
[Sanford] Sargoth.
Strange name.
[clicks off tape]
I wonder.
I wonder if he was truly destroyed.
Or could he be the key
to David's disappearance?
Well... maybe this will tell me.
[Norliss] Chapter Two.
December 4th.
It was a rainy afternoon when I received the letter.
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