Thursday, November 19, 2009

Chapter 1: Georgia

Among Ariadne’s less odd traits is her methodical nature. And naturally, we went to Webber’s other residence next. This was a more prosaic location. Benton is a predominantly blue-collar neighborhood that was a suburb a hundred years ago, but the city had swallowed and was slowly digesting it. The run down homes varied between tiny bungalows and newer, mid-century ranch homes. Webber’s home was one of the latter and had a scruffy 5-o’clock shadow of a lawn that, surprisingly, was recently mowed. The house had peeling paint, dirty windows, and a rusting front door knocker, but in general, things were tidy.

[still in progress]

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Chapter 1: Charley

I know my eyes widened in recognition and that Ariadne saw my reaction and saw the reason, because she said to the old fellow, “I know this might seem impertinent, but who is that lovely young woman in that photo? Your girlfriend?”
He blushed a little. The photo did seem like a couple’s photo and he was the other half of the double grins smiling out of the frame.
“No, no. That’s my niece… or my grandniece… or something like that.”
“Something like that?” I thought to myself.
As usual, my silver tongued partner translated that into an innocuous question.
“Oh? Have you been recently introduced? How wonderful for you both!”
The old man beamed and you could see a hint of the little boy he had once been.
“Yes, she’d been searching for me ever since her father died and told her about her grandfather and my father’s connection. She felt it was her responsibility to set things right between our two families. Thank goodness she found me in time.”
That statement led into an emotional minefield, so I turned the subject a little.
“Do you mind if I came in to use your bathroom, Mr. uh…” I trailed off, realizing he hadn’t given us his name.
“Eaton. Charley Eaton. And yes, certainly. I know what it’s like to have a temperamental bladder!”
We came in and Ariadne sat on the couch with our host while I did a brief and surreptitious inventory of the apartment. It was a one bedroom, but much smaller and more efficient than #204. It’s windows looked into the light and air shaft at the center of the building, and the views were mostly of other apartment windows.
When I came back to the living room area, Ariadne had made some progress. The kind of progress only she could put up with. Charley was describing his recent physical ailments, including a blood clot in his leg and a broken hip some months before. It also seemed that he had some circulation problems in his toes, but not badly enough for him to go to a doctor.
“I’m sure my body can take care of itself,” he said.
“Well,” Ariadne temporized, “you still need people to take care of you, though. Is that what your niece is here to do?”
“Oh, I don’t want a sweet young thing like that to tie herself down to an old geezer like me,” he exclaimed. “Besides, the hospital was sending a nurse by every once in a while.”
Ariadne’s head went back, like she’d smelled a dead rat. She opened her mouth to ask a question when something Charley said stopped her.
“I haven’t seen him since Joanna has been by though.”
Him? Was there a connection between Josephine and the nurse that had stopped coming by? If yes, the only male we knew of in Jo’s life was Ray, and I really could not see him playing a male nurse. Maybe there was no connection, only a coincidence of timing. Maybe Jo had more male friends than she was letting on.
I sat for a little while longer while Ariadne made some more small talk. We learned that the nurse’s name was Raphael and he seemed to be of Hispanic origin. He spoke with an accent and had black hair and dark eyes. He was very kind and would sit and listen to Charley talk about the old days for what seemed like hours. Needless to say, Charley liked him a lot and missed his company.
Eventually, the conversation ran it’s natural course and began to run down. I had stopped listening some time before and was planning our next few steps. I really thought we should go by the club and talk to some people who actually interacted with Ray on a regular basis.
Ariadne finished up listening to Charley and made our farewells. We thanked him for his time and rolled out of there an hour and forty-five minutes after we had gone in.
That good ol’ boy had lots of good ol’ boy times to talk about.

Ariadne looked grave as we drove out of picturesque Greenvale Park and headed towards downtown.
“What on earth could our client want with an old fellow like that?” she mused. “And why did she and Roy go to such great lengths to act like they were living there together, when it looks like no one has lived there for ages? What purpose does the apartment serve? Does it have a view of something interesting? Is a good location in itself or is it because Charley lives down the hall?”
I found it interesting that we so easily dismissed the idea that Josephine was really Charley's niece.
“Speaking of views,” I added, “Charley’s apartment had interesting views of a completely different stripe. So it might not be about Charley at all. It might be his place.”
Ariadne looked at me and her eyes twinkled excitedly. “I love this kind of mystery!”
I shook my head. I was used to being the odd man out in most situations, but every once in a while, I realized that Ariadne had an odd streak to her as well.
And yes, I consider it odd to love your job like she does. Especially when you do what we do.

(OK, first new storyline and your first opportunity to vote! Votes will only count until it's time for me to decide and write about the subject being voted upon.)

Is it about:
A - Charley
B - The view from Charley's
C - The view from the empty apartment