“Diane, it struck me again earlier this morning, there are two things that continue to trouble me. And I’m speaking now not only as an agent of the Bureau but also as a human being. What really went on between Marilyn Monroe and the Kennedys and who really pulled the trigger on JFK?”—Dale Cooper, tapes
“Diane, it’s 4:10 in the afternoon at the scene of the crime. Here’s something we haven’t seen before: a mount of dirt. Approximately a foot and a half in diameter. On the top is a gold necklace with a gold heart. Correction, half a gold heart. At the base of the mount of dirt is a torn piece of news print. Written with the words, which appear to be in blood: ‘fire walk with me’.”—Dale Cooper, Tapes
As a matter of fact I did receive those earplugs. Great work once again Diane. Always on time. I'm also glad to say that the Norwegians are on there way back to the old country and I can gladly go back to sleep.
Although my thoughts on the Palmer case will keep me up, no doubt.
Well, surely a mistake from the Post Office. I’m sending other earplugs tomorrow.
I’ve just called the front desk to order you a glass of warm milk, the room service should be on its way.
Diane, 11:30 a.m., February Twenty-fourth. Entering the town of Twin Peaks, five miles south of the Canadian border, twelve miles west of the state line. I’ve never seen so many trees in my life. As W. C. Fields would say, I’d rather be here than Philadelphia. Fifty-four degrees on a slightly overcast day. Weatherman said rain. If you could get paid that kind of money for being wrong sixty percent of the time, it’d beat working. Mileage is seventy-nine thousand three hundred forty-five, gauge is on reserve, riding on fumes here, I’ve got to tank up when I get into town. Remind me to tell you how much that is. Lunch was, uh, six dollars and thirty-one cents at the Lamplighter Inn, that’s on Highway Two near Lewis Fork. That was a tuna fish sandwich on whole wheat, slice of cherry pie, and a cup of coffee. Damn good food. Diane, if you ever get up this way that cherry pie is worth a stop. Okay. Looks like I’ll be meeting up with the, ah, Sheriff Harry S. Truman. Shouldn’t be too hard to remember that. He’ll be at the Calhoun Memorial Hospital. I guess we’re going to go up to intensive care and take a look at that girl that crawled down the railroad tracks off the mountain. When I finish there I’ll be checking into a motel. I’m sure the sheriff will be able to recommend a clean place, reasonably priced. That’s what I need, a clean place, reasonably priced.
Oh Diane, I almost forgot. Got to find out what kind of trees these are. They’re really something.