Journal Entry 57 - December 2nd, 1888
Chief McArthur is deplorable. For him to outright state that Mansfield’s Inn does not exist is beyond preposterous. Since the incompetency of his department has prevailed, I am rendered no other choice but to search for Taylor myself. Although I fear what I may find, I am more afraid that sitting idle will only seal the fate of my poor friend. I also find it doubtful that McArthur’s officers stepped foot within the valley. It enrages me to imagine them wandering about like a pair of pigeon-livered imbeciles while Taylor’s life is in grave danger. Hemlock’s decay has never been more apparent. Yet now begins my reluctant journey into that black vale whose shadow continues to haunt me.
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