I found this tape recording transcript from 1958. It’s a lot to unpack. My apologies for any brutality. Read at your own discretion. Here is the latest update:

Data Entry 3 - Knock Knock

The room is silent for some time.

Sounds of struggling start to fill the void.

A determined woman’s voice moans and drones out long, stretched tones, desperate tones, impossible tones, much like someone struggling, trying to lift something tremendously heavy or push out a baby. 

Wood thuds ring out rhythmically, like a slow drumbeat, like the beat count into a song. Metal drags across metal threads. It’s a shrill, saw-like sound. 

Her angry heaves are met with a loud metal ping, followed by the zip of the threads and the pounding of wood against pavement. It goes on for several minutes, in a blended mix of grunts and growls and dejected sobbing.

The zing along the metal threads gradually gets longer. The pings sound sharper, and the thuds slap harder. A loud pop and the creak of splintering wood is followed by a split-second pause. The woman’s voice rears with the anticipation of someone about to go over top the hill of a rollercoaster-climb. 

A loud thwack reverberates around the room. Sounds like a pile of books slamming the floor. 

A muffled yell follows, a painful howl.

“Aaaah muh, hum, humph!”

It’s quiet again.

Soft crying can be heard.

A few minutes pass.

Physical struggling starts up again; there are clanking sounds and the swish of feet slipping around on the floor. 

The distant roar of an engine can be heard. Gravel crunches under tires coming up the driveway.

Inside the room, the struggling gets faster. The crying gets louder.

The vehicle rolls closer, popping stones under its treads. Brakes squeak to a halt. A rusty hinged door opens and slams shut. It echoes off the nearby house, which vibrates the building’s tin roof with a distorted buzzing sound. Footsteps walk through the gravel, up to the door.

The crying begins to sound defeated, and the struggling noises stop. She hiccups and sniffles a pile of mucus back into her nose. Coughs.

The door handle jiggles.

It jiggles harder.

There’s a knock… 

Three knocks.

A man’s voice through the door says, “Hello… Is there anybody in there?”

He tries the handle again. 

Knocks.

“Hello… I’m a police officer. Can you please let me in?”

Knocks and jiggles the handle again.

Loud scuffing noises and struggling fill the room.

“Mmmmmm! Eeeerrr! Mmmmm!”

“Hey… Hey, is there someone in there? Hold tight. I’ve got a lock-picking kit in my car. I’ll be right back.” 

He runs through the gravel. Opens and slams car doors. His voice sounds distant. “There you are. Gotcha.” Runs back to the building, kicking up stones along the way.

Scratchy metallic noises fight with the door lock.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. We’ve picked harder than this before… Come on, little fella… Find it… That’s it. Keep going.”

Pop!

“Dammit! Snapped in half… Aaarg!” Sighs.

Pounds his fist against the door.

“Hey… Whoever is in there… just hold tight. I gotta get some pliers and get this tool outta there.” 

Presses his cheek to the door. “It’s busted off and stuck. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

The woman’s breathing intensifies, audibly forcing globs of snot in and out of her nose.

Crunching gravel footsteps—he’s coming back. 

“I’m going to try and pull the broken piece out. This might take me a minute.”

From inside, she murmurs, “Hrrreee… Hrrreee… Assstr… eeese hrrreee assstr!”

Ping!

“Ouch!… Dammit! Cut my friggin' finger. It’s not coming outta there. I’m gonna try turning it with the pliers and force it open… Aaaaarrrg!”

Screech. Click.

“I got it! I got it!” Slowly creaks the door open. “No funny business now. I’m coming in. I got a gun in one hand and a nightstick in the other. I ain’t in the mood to be messed with.”

Heel-to-toe footsteps edge into the room. Ka-clump, ka-clump.

“Damn… It’s dark in here. Give me a second for my eyes to adjust.” Sniffs. “Smells like a locker room. That is some ripe BO.”

“Oooeer eeer. Oooeeer eeer.”

“Wait… I’m starting to see now… Ok… ok… Here we go. Oh my gosh. You’re on the floor.”

Sets his revolver and nightstick on the table by the recorder.

“Hang on. I’ve got a pocketknife. I’ll cut you loose. First let’s get you back upright.”

Heaves. Grunts.

Slam. Chair legs smack the pavement.

“How’d you knock your chair over? You were bolted down… Oh… I suppose I could take off this gag… Now don’t scream. We don’t want to alert anyone that I’m here… On second thought… Let me untie you first.”

From the doorway, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Whoa shit! Stay back! Who in the hell are you? Don’t move. You just stay right there.”

“Left your gun on the table, I see.” Steps forward, up to the table. “Now that was way closer to me than it was to you. See how easy that was for me to just walk over here and pick it up? Not very smart, Officer. Don’t they teach you fellas about screwups like this at the academy?”

Cocks the hammer back. Click, click, click. 

The room goes silent.

It’s so quiet that the tape recorder picks up the wind rushing through the treetops outside. A dog barks in the distance, and a train can be heard faintly getting closer.

“Buddy… you kill a cop, and they’ll hunt you down like a dog. They’ll do things to you that’ll make you beg for death.”

Laughs through his nose. “Save your breath. Here you go. Take it. I’m not going to kill anyone. This is my wife. See… the thing is, she’s kinda kinky. Likes to role-play. It’s her thing. I’m not really that into it, but she loves it. So… you know… happy wife and all.”

Decocks the gun. Click.

The officer talks through a smile. “Ooooh, I see. Got you a little freak-deaky here. That’s what you got.” Drops the smile. Slaps a hand down on his shoulder. “Damn. You really had me going there for a second. I thought… Ya know… I really thought that was it. I thought that was the end. You’re a pretty good actor, you know that? You ever thought about doing public theater or something?”

The woman squirms and moans in protest. “Oooh! Oooh! Eeeelt eee! Eeelt eee!”

“Wow… Look at that. She’s good too. Stays in character. That’s impressive. I like that… to see that kind of dedication. It’s inspiring.”

They walk towards the door and on out. 

“Alright, well… you two lovebirds have fun. I gotta get back to…”

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask. What brings you out this way, Officer?” 

The door starts to creak shut.

“Well… I’m just out here making the rounds. Looking for a guy on a bike; wears a red hoodie. You seen anybody that meets that description?”

“Mmmm… yeah, but not today.”