05: A Spider in a Web

Official Description: Melody has an uneventful breakfast. A security guard refuses to answer questions. And Mark tells Dan about the history of the Visser building.

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[BRIEF BURST OF MUSIC—TWANGY GUITAR, THEN TAPE DISTORTION.]

[FOOTSTEPS, TAPE BEING PUT IN THE TAPE PLAYER. THE TAPE BEGINS TO PLAY.]

[FUMBLING AND FABRIC RUSTLING AS THE RECORDER IS HANDLED.]

Mic check, one, two. [SIGHS.] Alexa, can you help me check levels?

[OFF MIC.] Seriously?

The recorder’s been acting up!

[MOVING CLOSER TO THE MIC.] What do you want me to say?

[HUMS IN CONSIDERATION.] …Tell me what you had for breakfast.

[LAUGHING.] You know what I had for breakfast.

Just tell me, I need to get some levels.

Is this what it’s like to be interviewed by the probing Melody Pendrassss? I feel like I should be dredging up some deep emotional baggage.

[LAUGHS.] You can’t make me laugh! It messes up the recording.

Okay, mom. [CLEARS THROAT, PUTS ON A VOICE.] I had a toasted sesame bagel with cream cheese and half a grapefruit. [SUDDEN AUDIO DISTORTION.] Is that alright?

[SIGHS.] Mm. The recorder’s still being weird.

[GENUINELY.] Oh, I’m sorry.

Thanks. Maybe if I… [STATIC, FIDDLING WITH THE RECORDER.] Can you say something else into the mic?

Anything?

Whatever you want.

[CHUCKLING.] Well, I’m kind of distracted by you in your PJs, soo I don’t know if I can come up with anything coherent, but I’d really like to—

[CUTS HER OFF.] IIIII got it! [BOTH LAUGH.]

Are you going to turn the recorder off now? Because I love you, but goddamn, stop working for, like, half a second.

[SIGHS.] Fiiine. I love you too.

[RUSTLING, AND THE TAPE ENDS.]

[DAN SIGHS. PAUSE.]

Shit, what time is it? Oh…

[PHONE DIALING, THEN RINGING. BEEP AS IT CONNECTS.]

Hey, Mark.

[DEEPLY PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE.] Dan! How goes it? It’s been—let me check my watch—yeah, it’s been—it’s been 12 billion years since you’ve called me!

Yeah, [GUILTY CHUCKLE] I’m sorry, I’m the worst, I know. It’s been—

It’s almost—it’s almost as if you’re putting some effort into this friendship! I am positively touched.

I know, I’m a shitty human being. I-I really do want to call more often.

[GENUINE NOW.] It’s nice to hear from you, Dan. So. How are you doing? What are you getting up to? Are you basically a sound-recording monk now?

...Kind of. I’m not supposed to talk about what’s actually on the tapes—

Non-disclosure agreement?

Yeah, in my contract. Plus the whole, you know, Big Brother thing.

That’s some NSA type shit.

Yeah, well. [BEAT.] The tapes are… depressing. Like, emotionally exhausting. But, I mean, other than that, it’s just been… [SIGHS.] I’ve been slammed, like, work has kept me busy; I haven’t—god, I suck! Remember how I said this would be a great opportunity for me to work on my writing?

Yeah, uh—the novel, how’s it going?

About the same as it always goes.

I feel ya. Is it the work, or.. the setting.. the isolation?

Probably a combination? Mostly the archiving; it’s just a huge drain on my mind.

Like you don’t have the creative energy left in you.

Yeah. [SIGHS.] But other than that it’s been alright. I’ve been reading a lot, watching a lot of DVDs—you know, just turning into my parents. Oh, and I have a pet! Um, this one rat showed up in the tape library and [AUDIBLY GRINNING] he’s been keeping me company.

Seriously?

Yeah—Ratty! [BECKONING WHISTLE.] C’mere, Ratty!

[PAUSE.]

Yeah, he doesn’t really respond to my calls (yet!). Ratty’s a “go where your heart tells you” kind of rat.

[LAUGHING.] Dude, if you actually found a pet rat, I hope you’d name him something better than Ratty. Like, name him Pumpernickel. Or George. Or Professor Ratigan.

Don’t you dare talk about Ratty like that, it’s an apt and noble name. [BOTH CHUCKLING.] Yeah, man, uh—anyway, what’s new with you?

Eh… work’s hectic. The EP just accepted a job across town, so the hunt’s on for a new boss. Uh, until then, Matt and I have to do all the shit she did to keep the show running. Um… also, Boston’s a terrible city. Like, every conversation I have revolves around sports. Do you want to hear about the Patriots? I do not!

”Go sports!”

Exactly. Go sports.

Oooof.

Yep. Anyway, Tanya contacted me a couple days ago.

Wait, seriously?

Yes, seriously. She’s worried about you, dude.

..Oh.

Yeah, “oh”.

[PAUSE.]

Yeah, we’re having a rough patch, I guess. Things haven’t been totally ideal. I’m not even sure what I want.

I mean, are you still interested in this.. being a thing? [AUDIBLE EYE-ROLL] Are you getting bored with yet another unconventionally attractive, slightly controlling brunette of Eastern European descent?

Dude.

[UNAPOLOGETICALLY] Sorry! It’s just—you’ve got a type. [CHUCKLES.] Because I’m fine with whatever. It’s just—Tanya contacted me. She hates me. She thinks I am the worst. For some reason. But yeah, she thinks you’re just going stir crazy.

[DAN SIGHS.]

[PAUSE.]

Are you… doing okay?

I… yeah. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you.

[PAUSE.]

Sure. What is it?

Could you do some research into the Visser apartment building? It’s in New York.

[PAUSE.]

Um….

And the Housing Historical Committee of New York State. It might also be known as the Urban Preservation and Development Department of New York State? And could you look up a woman named Melody Pendras? She’s probably in her late 40s at this point.

...If that’s what you want? Sure, I guess.

Thanks. It’s just—I don’t really have the Internet out here, and you’re sort of a journalist.

”Sort of”?

You know what I mean. But, um, yeah, I’d really appreciate it.

Okay, yeah, of course I’ll do some research. Let me, um—let me just write this down. [HE BEGINS TO WRITE.] Alright, uh—Vasser?

The Visser Building, uh—it’s in New York.

[CONTINUES WRITING AS HE SPEAKS.] Housing historical committee, urban preservation.. Uh, what’s the spelling on Pendras?

No idea.

Hmm. Okay, I’ll try to have that for you in a couple hours. [FINISHES WRITING.]

Really?

Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t planning on doing anything cool today. You know me.

Oh, man. Thanks!

So… any particular reason you want me to research these?

[HALTINGLY.] It’s… important. And I really shouldn’t tell you anything more than that.

Okay, I won’t press it. But.. if you ever want to tell me, or if you ever need somebody to talk to, just.. let me know, okay?

Thanks. I’m, uh, letting you go, Mark.

Bye.

[DAN HANGS UP AND SIGHS.]

[RUSTLING AS HE SEARCHES THROUGH TAPES.] Alright… I think I’ve got a better idea of exactly where we’re at…

[THE TAPE IS PUT IN THE TAPE PLAYER AND BEGINS TO PLAY.]

[MORE CURT AND HARRIED THAN USUAL.] Melody Pendras. May 5th. 11:21. Floor 1 monitoring room. Could I get your full name for the recording?

John. John Smith.

[A PAUSE.]

Really? [SIGH.]

It’s the name I’m givin’.

Fine. Can you tell me a little bit about what brought you to Visser?

Saw an ad in the paper.

And.. what was that ad for?

Security guard. Good pay, free place. Got the job.

Did you have any experience in law enforcement before that?

No.

[BEAT.]

So what does your job entail?

I watch the tapes.

[PAUSE.] Could you tell me more?

I sit here. I watch the security feed. If I see someone engaged in criminal activity or a tenant in distress, I report it to the proper authorities.

And do you respond if a tenant is in distress?

No.

You don’t respond at all.

If I responded, it could open up management to liability. My job is to contact the proper authorities.

Then… do you make the rounds?

No. Management feels this is a better use of my time.

[EXASPERATED SIGH.] Alright. What’s it like living in Visser?

It’s alright. Can’t complain.

Have you ever noticed anything out of the ordinary here?

No.

Nothing strange at all?

No.

Do you know anything about the rumors of drug use on the eighth floor?

If there were any unlawful activity, I would have reported it to the proper authorities.

The historical society?

Are you asking me if I keep tabs on the social lives of our tenants? That would be an abuse of my power.

[PAUSE.]

[FRUSTRATED BUT DETERMINED.] What happened to Jesse Lewis?

[PAUSE.]

We have no tenant by the name of Jesse Lewis.

Oh, no no no no no! [SHARP BREATH AS SHE COLLECTS HERSELF.] I talked to him. I have a recording of him. I remember him.

[WITH A HINT OF CONDESCENSION, MIRRORING HOW MELANIE HAS INTERVIEWED HIM.] Could you describe him for me?

17. African-American. Tall. Looks like a runner. Hyperactive, never slowed down.

I don’t recall anyone fitting that description living at Visser.

[FRUSTRATED NOISE] I can’t believe you, there’s no way you don’t kn—

Melody Pendras. If you believe something happened to one of our tenants, perhaps you should contact the New York City Police Department. I suspect they have a robust missing persons unit.

[MELODY BREATHING HEAVILY.]

Perhaps you—

Listen, goddamnit!

[SHE TAKES OUT A TAPE PLAYER, PUSHES A TAPE INSIDE, AND PRESSES PLAY.]

—Floor 12. Could I get you to say your name into the microphone?

Sure, sure: Jesse..

[DEMANDING OVER THE RECORDING] Do you hear? [SPEAKING ALONG WITH THE RECORDING OF JESSE] Jesse Lewis.

[THE TAPE PLAYER IS SHUT OFF.]

I hear someone on a tape recording saying their name is Jesse Lewis. Perhaps you’re hysterical.

That. Is. Jesse Lewis.

Well, perhaps Jesse Lewis has a family. Have you tried contacting them? I recall there being a Lewis family on Floor 12. African-American, like you said.

She didn’t… she didn’t…

—Though I recall Ms. Lewis only having one son. 13 years old, if I remember correctly.

What happened to Jesse? Why does—why does nobody remember him?

If you remember something that others can’t recall, perhaps you should seek the attention of a licensed psychologist, Melody Pendras.

[GROWL OF ANGER.] No, no, no, no, you know something. You’re this… spider watching everything. You must have seen him; you must have seen Jesse!

Melody Pendras, if you truly believe that you were the only person to remember a human being, that he was somehow wiped from our memories, then perhaps you should be concerned about what this great and terrible power could do to you.

[BEAT.]

Who are you?

[PAUSE.]

I watch the tapes. I see a lot of interesting things on the tapes. My name is John Smith. Now please turn the recorder off. [SHUDDERING BREATH.] It makes me uncomfortable.

[WITH A HUM OF STATIC, THE TAPE ENDS.]

[DAN SIGHS.]

[LIGHTS FLICKER AND GO OUT.]

Oh, damnit. Am I gonna have to—

[A SONG BEGINS TO PLAY IN THE BACKGROUND FAINTLY. IT SLOWLY GROWS LOUDER.]

Where’s that coming from…

[SQUEAKS.]

[THE SONG ENDS, AND THE LIGHTS COME BACK ON.]

[WITH RELIEF.] Ratty! There you are. Sorry, I… I think I got a little bit lost in my own head for a second.

[SQUEAKS.]

Did—did you like that peach cobbler I left out last night?

[SQUEAKS.]

Of course you did [HE PETS RATTY.] Wanna watch a movie? I could probably stand to see Troll Hunter again…

[SQUEAKS.]

You’ve got good taste!

[DAN’S PHONE BEGINS TO RING, AND HE GASPS SOFTLY, THEN ANSWERS.]

Hey Dan! Uh, so I was able to dig up some stuff for you.

[STILL SHAKEN.] Mark! That was fast!

Yeah. I mean, I am “sort of” a journalist.

That you are. I would say you’re even on your way to becoming kind of a journalist!

[PAUSE.]

Are you. Not gonna tell me anything ‘til I apologize?

[PAUSE.]

I’m sorry!

[IMMEDIATELY.] Okay, so the Housing Historical Committee of New York State? Not a thing. Neither is the Urban Preservation and Development Department of New York State. They all sound like government agencies, but they’re not. No record of them; they’re not public at all. No way to find out unless I went on a huge phishing expedition which I am not going to do.

[QUIETLY.] Oh.

Yeah, they’re dead ends is what I’m saying. The Visser building is… more interesting. There aren’t any records of it, which would be weird if Visser was the official name of the building. But I thought hey, maybe it’s a nickname or something. So I checked through newspaper archives, some oral histories, hacked into the mainframe on my rollerblades, all that good stuff. And…

[EXPECTANT PAUSE.]

What did you find?

Absolutely nothing.

That’s… disappointing.

But! But. Visser is a Dutch name, which I deduced because I am a genius and it happens to be the last name of a South African artist I like, so I thought hey, let’s go through all the Dutch or South African corporations that owned New York property in the 90s, which I guessed would be a pretty small list because of apartheid. Now, there was only one Dutch corporation listed as owning residentially-zoned property in the city of New York. They were called Baas, and they owned precisely zero apartment buildings.

Wait…

Yes, they were listed as property owners but they didn’t own any properties. Which could have been a clerical error, but this was a fun little mystery. Went on the Wayback Machine, didn’t work, so I decided to call up ACRIS, where I was put on the phone with an amazing woman by the name of Ari. Anyway, she wasn’t technically supposed to pull the property archives, but we chatted a bit, and she really likes public radio, and we both had the same favorite This American Life episode… and it turns out Baas Holdings Incorporated owned a property called the Visser Building from 1951 to 1994.

Mark, that’s awesome! So what else did you find?

Well, Ari and I did a bit more digging into the Baas company. Baas Holdings is owned by the Butandi corporation which is apparently owned by Koning Inc which is owned by… Baas Holdings Incorporated.

What?

Yeah, it’s one big, quasi-legal corporate circlejerk. A joke I made to Ari, one that she did not find particularly funny. Uh, so.. basically it’s a shell game, a dead end. I dug deeper, but no joy.

Damn.

However, Ari did mention one more interesting thing (before I asked her out for coffee and she hung up on me). Apparently the shelf that contained the Baas Holdings records was a victim of a—in her words—”localized fire”? Around twenty years ago. Which, yes, could be a coincidence but, combined with the fact that the Baas company is owned by the Baas company, makes it seem like someone is trying to hide something.

Well… shit!

”Well shit” indeed, Dan.

Um, did you find anything about Melody Pendras?

Yeah, that took, like, five minutes of Googling.

Really?

Yeah, if you’re looking for a Melody Pendras, former social worker in her late 40s who’s now receiving a quite generous government pension and living in New York City—god I love the Internet.

That sounds exactly like her.

Well, do you want her phone number?

[A PAUSE.]

Dan? You there?

Yes—yes, I do!

Get a pencil. [REDACTED PHONE NUMBER, PENCIL SCRATCHING.] You got it?

Yeah. Thank you. [RUSTLE OF PAPER.]

Don’t mention it, um. Dan? Can you tell me what’s going on? I mean.. why are you interested in all this?

[CURTLY.] I—I just am, alright?

[SUBDUED.] Okay, dude.

I-I’m sorry. I’ll tell you when the assignment ends and I’m home.

Sure.

Bye. I-I mean thanks!

[THE PHONE IS HUNG UP. DAN SIGHS.]

[DIALING OF NUMBERS. THE PHONE BEGINS TO RING.]

[THE TAPE ENDS.]

[STRAINED.] Okay. Um… that was a… difficult episode for me to put together. [BREATH.] Yeah, um. I—I… really don’t want to talk more about that. You know the drill, uh—still haven’t heard anything from Dan. Uh, and if you—know anything, email me at archive81podcast@gmail.com. Uh.. leave a review on iTunes, follow us on one of our [SIGHING] social media sites, whatever. Um. Okay. Bye.

[END OF EPISODE FIVE.]

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