Thursday, October 15, 2020

The Broken Scarlet Sky


 I decided to start from the place where most things start. At the beginning. At least the beginning of Meyer's visit to Boston. He was staying at the Boston Ritz Carlton across from Boston Common.

I walked into the main lobby and went up to the reception desk, A beautiful young woman of about thirty years looked up with an smile that she must of given everyone that entered the hotel. I gave her half of my smile. The one that charmed women from coast to coast. I didn't give her 100 Watts. Then she would have started to disrobe.

"Hello and welcome to the Ritz Carlton at the Boston Common. How might I help you? Are you checking in?"

"No not today. I would like to speak to the head of security. I thought it was Mike Callahan? Is he still the man?"

"Yes he is sir. I will call him. If you have a seat in the Lobby he will be with you shortly."

I walked over and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs in the lobby. A few minutes later a tall Irishman with red hair that had gone grey walked into to the lobby. He limped from a wound he had from a shoot out with the Winter Hill mob. I knew him for years. Ever since he came up with Marty Qurik. 

"Spenser. What do you want." 

"Why would I want anything Mike?"

"You always want something when you come by so lets cut the crap and tell me what it is before I run your ass out of my hotel."

"Easy does it. I just want to know about a guest of yours that went missing a couple of weeks ago. He was a professor. A older gent. Name of Meyer. Ludwig Meyer."

"Not much to tell. He checked in. Called for room service. Left for his conference and never came back. We tried reaching out to his contacts but got no reply. After a week we needed the room so we boxed up his belongings and turned the room over. I notified BPD but they didn't seem very interested so that's where we stand. That's exactly what I told his friend."

"His friend? Let me guess. Older gent who looks like he was the first runner up in a George Hamilton bake off?"

"Yeah that's him. From Florida. He came by a couple of days ago. I refereed him to Belson."

"Thanks Mike. I owe you one." 

"One. That's about the tenth one you owe me. Do me a favor and make yourself scarce unless you are spending money in the bar. Say hello to Susan for me."

That's me. Spreading joy wherever I go.





5 comments:

The Dude said...

Nice work. Before you go to print with it please send me a copy so I can proofread it, on the off chance that some of your readers might possess a small degree of literacy.

Aw, who am I kiddin'?

Trooper York said...

Thanks Sixty but this is just for the blog. I couldn't use it because it contains copyrighted characters that I could never get permission.

I might have something I might like you to take a look at. It is my book about the origins of the Mafia that you saw here as Meyer and Charlie. I am thinking about that as a Christmas release on Amazon.

The Dude said...

Tawk amongst your friends, they will tell you of my mad proofreadery skilz.

ndspinelli said...

My bride relies on the hillbilly savant in all her writing projects. She says he's invaluable.

The Dude said...

Thanks for the compliment (I guess that's what it is) but reading your wife's writing is really a treat - she is a very good writer who has the ability to put you in the place of her characters. Say "Hey" for me, and tell her I can't wait to read her next book.