The

Bees You know, Larchment is located along the Long Island south in Westchester County in New York. It's a charming and affluent

village that feels worlds away from the chaos of nearby New York City. It was originally a summer retreat for Manhattan's elite,

but it blossomed in the late 19th century when the railroad brought city dwellers to its shores.

Over the decades, it's developed into a tight-knit community, known for its treeline streets,

historic homes and gentile atmosphere. The Larchment Police Department

reflects this quiet character. It's housed in a modest brick building just off Main Street

and is more Mayberry than Manhattan. Officers often know the residents by face if not by name.

Shifts were steady, predictable,

almost boring in the best possible way.

It's the kind of place where the radio crackles

with reports of a raccoon in someone's attic

or a suspicious parked car,

rarely anything more sinister.

But even the most peaceful of places have their shadows.

Before 1989, the village had only ever recorded two murders in its entire history.

The first occurred in October 1938 when a whimpering dog led its owner to the body of 17-year-old Mart Imelda Coil.

She had been beaten to death and dumped in a vacant lot off Palmer Avenue.

The case was never solved.

Nearly four decades later, tragedy struck once more.

In 1976, patrolman Arthur DeMatt responded to reports of a homeless man near the train tracks.

During the encounter 23-year-old Anthony Curtis Blanks wrestled DeMatt's gun from him and fatally shot the officer.

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