Pg. 17, #14

Cruising on Commonwealth Avenue, Special Officer James Mellon and Sergeant John Driscoll of Homicide heard the dispatcher’s message over their radio. Mellon swung the car round. ‘They’ll want us over there anyway, may as well go now.’ A moment later the order came sending them to 77 Gainsborough Street, too. A few minutes after eight o’clock Officer Mellon walked into Apartment 3F. As he came through the door he found himself in a tiny foyer; directly before him the living-room desk with a lamp, a telephone and the tiny Latvian flag. Mellon’s first impression was of neatness. The very floor gleamed. A policeman was seated near the desk making out his report. Mellon glanced automatically to the left, towards the rear, bedroom section of the apartment. ‘Where’s the body?’ he asked.

*

He was so small that they towered over him and as they crossed the second threshold and came into his home it was they, the two senior policemen, who caught the full impact of that first unforgettable scene.

*

Once partly used as a showroom for new Chrysler cars, the lobby underwent a comprehensive restoration in the late 1970s. the work brought many features back to their original glory, notably the red-veined African marble walls and the elevators’ plush laminated wood interiors. Although an observation level once existed at the base of the spire, there are now no public areas on the upper floors, and visitors must content themselves with admiring Edward Trumbel’s lobby mural depicting diverse images on themes of transportation.

*

An officer searches an abandoned building for clues: in a stairwell he finds the skeleton of a forty-year-old man. A tracking dog returns to its master — with the skull of an adult female in its jaws. The weekly citizen area-sweeps routinely turn up caches of guns and stolen goods. Peaceable burglars panic at road-blocks.

*

Remembering the girl he fell asleep, and when he woke up he went to the telephone, without thinking, and asked the hotel operator to get him Corbett at Ryan’s Gymnasium, and call him back. A moment later the telephone rang. He answered it, and Corbett said, “Hello, is that you, Joe?”

*

Joe chirped. I read Jean’s card. ‘”Jean-Paul Pascal, artist painter”. And good friend to princes,’ I said. Joe nodded.

*

‘But what is the black spot, captain?’ I asked.

*

You know the drill… seven passages from seven page seventeens from seven books. Splitscreen image from THE BOSTON STRANGLER.

The Boston Strangler, by Gerald Frank; The China Governess, by Margery Allingham; The AA Essential Guide to New York; by Mick Sinclair; The Killings in Atlanta, by Martin Amis, from the collection The Moronic Inferno; Dear Baby, by William Saroyan; An Expensive Place to Die, by Len Deighton; Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson;

3 Responses to “Pg. 17, #14”

  1. I misidentified Len Deighton as Philip K. Dick.

  2. I’d love to read a PKD espionage novel, though I suppose some of them are just that, only with added sf.

  3. I like the interplay between the extracts, perhaps sometimes inadvertent — for instance, Commonwealth Avenue, from the first extract, was once lined with car showrooms of the kind that the AA Guide describes (the surviving ones are mostly now university buildings, with some amazing interiors).

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