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Leanne:

Wasting Company Time presents Tell No Tales, Episode Four: Mortui Non Morden

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[SFX: Recording Begins, Classical Music Playing]

Leo:

Audio diary of Leo Quinn, assistant to Frank Williamson, director of Better Place. (TOO LONG PAUSE) Nope, sorry, I’ve got nothing. Frank goes out, right? He’s got a meeting, so I think, hey, time to do some science. Except I’ve got rum coming out my pores and I think probably like an entire bag of sand in my head? Ugh. This isn’t even my fault. The new girl, Julia? She is criminally beautiful. Like, it is definitely illegal to be that pretty, I’m fairly sure nobody gave her the right to be that pretty. I don’t think there’s any kind of power qualified to give someone the right to be that pretty. And she kept offering me drinks! I’m not going to say no am I? Like, oh sorry, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, I’m actually something of a lightweight, so please, no more strawberry daiquiris? It’s almost enough to make me forget that she’s a dispatcher. Almost. Ugh, a hot ghost cop. That’s just the worst. Why is it never a beautiful scientist plying me with cocktails? Never a gorgeous ghost rights activist. Noooo, it’s got to be the hot ghost cop buying the drinks hasn’t it? Batting her eyelashes at me after her first day of capturing innocent spirits. They probably just go wandering into her open arms too, looking all criminally beautiful and whatnot. But, whatever, point is, the fact that I’m like this isn’t even my fault, it’s Julia’s. And now I have a whole Frank-Free hour and I’m too hungover to do anything about it. Ugh. No. Come on. Pretty girls and strawberry dacquiris will NOT be my downfall.

[SFX: Drawer Opening, Papers being rifled through]

What do we have… something nice and easy… something like, okay here. A category one. That should be chill. I don’t know if a category one even has a strong enough manifestation to talk but hey, I won’t know until I science about it. And I much prefer the idea of kicking back with some goosebumps to, like, questioning an angry category three while trying not to puke. So, this guy it is.

Case JC#9403. Oh, this case is old. Category 1, Case status-unresolved. Interesting. Looks like this case was reported back in ‘94, but after some budgeting debates it was dropped. For… Well, looks like they decided they quite liked having it around. Huh. Okay, there’s a copy of the letter that was sent in for the initial report.

Mr. Williamson, I assume it is not too much of an imposition that I write to you directly. There remains too much history between my own organisation and yours to waste time on something so mundane as customer service departments. I write regarding your predecessor, the esteemed Mr. Montgomery Whitley, and his grave here at Highgate Cemetery. There appears to be a haunting at the site of his grave. It is at the early stages of manifestation currently, only a lingering feeling of malintent. Something, perhaps, to handle before it becomes problematic. However, with, as I’m sure you are aware, Highgate Cemetery being run as a non-profit, budgeting remains a complicated issue. Considering the close relationship between our organisations I was hoping we could come to some arrangement. As Director of Better Place you are of course, as with your predecessors, guaranteed a burial plot in our cemetery. Perhaps we could come to some arrangement regarding some upgrades or discounts to your plot. I’m sure you understand the predicament we are in, and I look forward to your correspondence on the matter. Warmest regards, Dr. Samuel Hawkins, PhD.

There’s no record of Frank’s — or, no, it must be his dad, or something? The case was logged in ’94, so Frank must surely have been too young to be the director, he can’t be older than, what, his mid-forties now? Anyway, there’s no record of the response, only Dr. Hawkins’s next letter, a little over a week later, sounding, uh, pretty outraged actually. There’s a bit… Where is it, oh here, look “With regards to your refusal of my offer, your hubris, Mr. Williamson, must surely not be so great as to allow you to make such declarations. I will assume, with some generosity on my part, that this was a misguided negotiation tactic and speak no more of it.” Which, you know, big yikes. Again, we don’t have the response on file but we have another letter several months later from Dr. Hawkins that is somehow even more coldly formal, just stating that actually, it turns out a mild haunting is quite good for business at a world-famous graveyard, and as it doesn’t seem to be getting much worse, they’re happy to let the spirit remain. In these cases we usually send out regular emails and calls to whoever reported the haunting, just to make sure the spirit hasn’t progressed into a higher category, but there’s nothing like that on file. So, uh, fingers crossed that it’s still a category one? It’s probably fine, right? It’ll be a chill evening at the cemetery. Right now, though, I’m going to curl up in a ball and hope nobody calls for Frank.

[SFX: Recording Ends]

[SFX: Recording Begins]

Leo:

(WHISPERING) I… think, everyone’s gone? I didn’t have the energy for any breaking and entering today, so I just paid for a tour and snuck over to hide behind a mausoleum until they locked up. Suppose that means I’ll have to break and exit but that feels easier. Anyway, since this is going to be a chill one, I’ve decided to make my audio notes as I go. I have a feeling I’ll want to go straight to bed when I’m done here. Let me just…

[SFX: Foliage rustling, footsteps]

(AT A NORMAL VOLUME) Yeah, I think I’m good. Nobody around that I can see. Cool, so, it only took a little bit of research — mostly on Riley’s part, I won’t lie — to find that Better Place basically has its own mausoleum somewhere on the West Cemetery, where all the previous directors since the founder have been buried. Which, whatever, to each their own. I don’t think I like the idea of a promotion to director coming with a pre-selected company owned plot to be buried in. sounds a bit cult-like if you ask me, but nobody’s asking me sooo… Oh. Yeah. That’ll be… That’s got to be it, right?

[SFX: Footsteps stop]

Yep. Mortui Non Morden. Huge letters, engraved over the white stone archway. I’ve always liked that phrase. The literal translation is ‘the dead don’t bite.’ It’s kind of the original sentiment behind ‘dead men tell no tales,’ in that it kinda advocates for, ‘someone causing you problems? Why not try killing them about it!’ but I like to read it more like a statement about the benevolence of most ghosts. ‘The dead don’t bite.’ Feels kind of fitting to my own work, I think. We stopped using it in the actual public branding around the seventies though, around the time the whole company underwent a huge shift in business model. Out with the old, nineteenth century gothic grandeur, and in with the commerciality of trademarked company name, catchy jingles and mass advertising. Honestly, I hope whoever it was who had the idea for the overhaul got a raise or something. It worked. Better Place lowered its prices and stopped being the kind of agency that caters to a handful of incredibly wealthy clients in their manor houses, and became this huge corporation, removing — last I checked — thousands of ghosts each year. We’re now just a household name, another pest removal company. You see a mouse in your kitchen, you think, oh geez, better make a call to Rentokill. Walls start oozing blood, you think, well, let’s hope the boiler doesn’t break this month, we’re making a payment to Better Place. And yes, before you ask, future me who’s listening back to these notes. I am stalling. I’m getting bad vibes from this place.

[SFX: Footsteps resume, heavy door opening, footsteps become echoey]

There are a lot of empty plots here. Do you think Frank visits sometimes and contemplates his own mortality? Or, well, I guess if his dad was director, he’d buried here. Though… Nope, I can’t see a Williamson. Either he’s still alive or he’s just not buried here. Wonder if that’s why Dr. Hawkins was so pissed in his second letter, if Mr. Williamson sr. decided not to be buried here. I wonder if Frank’s made the same decision. That makes him slightly less sinister in my estimation, actually. Good for you Frank, going against the creepy morbid grain.

[SFX: Whooshing sound]

Oh. Oh no, okay, creepy and morbid are back on the menu. Uh…

[SFX: Bag opening, EMF reader being taken out and turned on]

(WHISPERING) I don’t know how else to explain it, I feel… watched. Like, there’s a chill in the air, and everywhere the icy feeling touches me, it imparts a feeling of… well, of resentment. Uh, Mr.-Mr. Whitley? Are you here? (SHUDDERS) Yep, okay, thanks, you’re definitely here. Okay, I see your grave here yeah. Damn, you died in 1937. Why are you the last director to be buried here since then? Even if your successor was pretty young when they were appointed director, they’d still definitely be dead now, right? Like, over a hundred years old roughly?

[SFX: EMF Reader buzzing]

Sorry, disclaimer, I can’t actually hear you. But, okay, hear me out. If you answer my questions now, I’ll come back soon. And I’ll have an actual device that’ll let me hear your voice, okay? So if there’s something you need to say, I promise, you’ll be heard soon.

[SFX: More buzzing]

Yeah. Right. So, you worked for Better Place when it was still Mortui Non Morden, right? Before it went corporate?

[SFX: Angrier buzzing]

Oh, wow. okay. For a category one, those were some strong readings. Sorry if I, uh, touched a nerve.

[SFX: Slow footsteps]

Woah, Better Place is old. I mean, I knew that, like, I did my research before my interview, I knew in theory it was founded in 1801, but… there are six graves here, not including the empty plots. Six whole generations of people including you, and, sorry if this is offensive Mr. Whitley but you’re no spring chicken yourself.

[SFX: Gentle buzzing]

Why are you here, though? I mean, you were in this line of work, you know the sitch. Ghosts don’t actually tend to hang out in cemeteries very often, right? So why here, what’s keeping you here?

[SFX: Much louder buzzing]

Holy… (SHUDDERS) look, sorry, but could you maybe cool it with the goosebumps?

[SFX: Wooshing, then dripping sounds]

Ugh… Mr. Whitley. Are… Are you doing this? Well, I mean, yeah, of course you are but… Christ, how? The empty plots are bleeding. That’s… You just… I mean, no judgement, every ghost develops at their own pace or whatever, but you’ve been a category one for nearly a century, and you choose now to progress to a category two, so that you can make the empty plots bleed. Why?

[SFX: Angriest buzzing yet]

(UNDER THEIR BREATH) I am not a coward, I am not a coward, I am not… Actually, no screw this, I might be a coward but I’m done being meek, listen here, Mr. Whitley, I see you making the words Mortui Non Morden glow nice and ominous over your grave but if you think it’s a fun and not at all terrifying way to communicate that you don’t want to harm me, then, my good dude, you sure as hell are sending some mixed signals with the blood you’re spewing out of the empty plots so if you’d be so kind could you just… stop? (LONG PAUSE)

[SFX: Dripping sound stops]

Thank you. I’m sure you’re just as eager as I am for you to have some less horrifying ways to communicate your feelings but I feel like maybe if you just used your imagination a little bit we could at least make it a bit less The Shining up in here. Okay? Okay. And I’m sorry about calling you my good dude. I got nervous and it just came out. So. Here’s how we’re going to do this. You can’t communicate much of anything right now, not anything of any real meaning at least. So I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? Just try not to do anything too unhinged that’ll get them to call Better Place back out here and get you removed in the meantime, okay? I said, okay?

[SFX: single, low buzz]

(PITCHILY) Okay then! Thank you. I promise I’ll come back.

[SFX: Slow footsteps on marble, then much faster on the foliage]

(SLIGHTLY BREATHLESSLY) How’d I do back there? Did I sound confident, authoritative? Because I felt like I was about to wet myself, so there’s that. God, nearly a century as a category one and he turns now? It’s hard to describe but I felt the change happen. Felt the air shift. Nobody knows for sure what exactly happens when a ghost progresses through the categories, but I can tell you something, it’s no small thing. It felt like he was pulling on the space around him, and then a feeling like… Like when an airplane takes off and the pressure builds and just when the pain pushing against your temples feels like it’s about to become unbearable, your ears pop and it isn’t nice but it’s at least a relief. I can’t explain how, but it felt like that’s what happened to the room back in that mausoleum. What did he have to tell me that was so important? Something important enough to make him tear through such a… violent process so suddenly, after a century of apparently not caring? No point agonizing over it just yet, I suppose. But… ugh, no, I’m calling it for tonight. Going to try and hop a fence then straight to bed. Maybe tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, I’ll actually be able to devote some brainpower to this.

[SFX: Recording Ends]

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Leanne:

Episode Four of Tell No Tales, Mortui Non Morden, was written and performed by Leanne Egan. If you enjoyed this episode, the best way to support the show is to spread the word. Leaving us a rating and review in your listening app of choice is a huge help, or you can follow us on Twitter or Tumblr @tellnotalespod Links and information about transcripts can be found in the show notes. Tell No Tales is distributed by Wasting Company Time Productions, under a Creative Commons attribution non-commercial share-alike 4.0 international license. Thank you for listening, and remember: the dead don’t bite

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