AN EERIE HEIRLOOM

by
Edward J. Longo

Fiction based on a True Story
(an excerpt)

(see Collection ISBN: 0-9713623-9-4) . . . . . . . Fiction Ebook Price $11.95

The Arles Hotel - France

Hotel detective La Roache pulled out a cigar from his pocket as they walked over to the sectional couches and became seated. He instructed Roger to become seated while he moved to the corner of the couch and stood lighting his thick, brown Davidoff cigar. He twirled the corona using his fingers to get the end wet before biting it off. Systematically, he continued twisting the cigar until finally spitting out the tip. He paused to light up.
. . . . "You smoke?" He asked the bellhop, as he raised his chin and exhaled, engulfing the young man in a plume of gray smoke.
. . . . "No . . . Can't stand them," he choked, "Oh, I'm sorry," he added, fanning the circulating smoke."
. . . . "That's okay. No, that's good," the detective said, fully enthralled with his cigar. His eyes were as deep a brown as was the cigar - yet they weren't necessarily mean, they just gave that kind of appearance. If one were to look deeper, there would be a soul - well, perhaps. Generally, one would say the man was cold, even unfriendly at first glance. Then, upon further observation it would be conclusive: the man did not exactly come across as a socialite. Yet, he was definitely a well man -- not well in the sense of health, but in the sense that every time he got the chance, he would begin his sentence with the word, "Well."
. . . . "Great day for the beach," he commented, killing time before the interrogation, perhaps setting the stage for making the arrest. Although the detective dressed very elegantly in his dark blue, double-breasted blazer and matching trousers, there was a thing about him that seemed unappealing - well, not just one thing.
. . . . Perhaps it was his slightly off-concentric nose, or his enlarged right eye -- or maybe it was that he kept one side of his mustache shaved just a bit thinner on one side than the other. Regardless, it didn't seem to be anything that specific. Maybe these things were pointless, insignificant. On the other hand, there was that odor, and the stain from kneading that cigar between his thumb and first fingers.
. . . . None of these things may have been noticeable if one were to observe the person at first glance. Yet, there was something about the man that seemed irritating - whether it was his attitude, his peculiar stance, or simply his arrogant disposition. Nevertheless, there was really not one thing one could put a finger on. Then again, the "one thing" could have been the aggregate man as a whole.
. . . . "Okay, what seems to be the problem?" The manager asked, as he approached the detective. He appeared brisk and refreshed, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, staring the detective straight between the eyes.
. . . . "This bellhop works for your hotel, correct?" The detective asked, a screen of smoke hovering above, as he bent to use the ashtray. Gripping the cigar between his teeth, he automatically opened up his wallet and flashed his badge.
. . . . "That's right, detective LaRoache. Why . . . did he do something wrong?"
. . . . "Wrong . . .? Not unless you get fifty grand a night for staying in this hotel," he rasped.
. . . . "I don't understand. What are you getting at?"
. . . . "Well . . . I followed your bellhop, here, into the lady's room and found him with this thing full of money," the detective explained, uncovering the shoebox.
. . . . "Holy . . . Where did you get all that money, Roger . . . and where's the black box?"
. . . . "What black box?" The detective interjected.

END OF THIS SEGMENT

* To Order this Ebook separately, or to Order the complete Collection of Short Stories please
Click On the ORDERFORM below.

SYNOPSIS: For the sole purpose of financial gain, Mr. Monet, the Arles Hotel manager, and Roger, the bellhop, have devised a system of extorting funds by exposing the contents of a mysterious black box -- thus scaring their hotel guests into paying arrears. However, they both receive the jolt of their lives when a mysterious guest calls from one of the rooms and requests room service. When the bellhop finally becomes propositioned with fifty thousand dollars for the contents of the box he eagerly accepts, with the promise that he should keep the transaction a secret.

After hastening down-stairs and hiding in a lady's room stall the hotel detective, hot on the trail, catches the bellhop in the act of counting the money. With the intentions of a possible arrest, detective La Roache assists him down to the lobby where he notifies the manager of the alleged theft. But the detective also receives the surprise of his career when the twosome confess that they had been collecting money from the hotel guests by shocking them into paying back rent. The detective becomes flabbergasted when told that the reason the guests became so terrified was because the black metal box they had been brandishing contained something, not only frightening, but quite repugnant.

| About Org | Products | Novels | Stories | Links | America |

| Home | Manual | Ebook | Certification | Therapists | Gazette | OrderForm

Copyright (C) 2001, Edward J. Longo - EbookSites.Org All rights reserved. No part of this website may be copied, duplicated, or modified in any way without the express written permission of this Author / Webmaster.  This includes all book covers and any other forms of graphics, or written material.