Senior Moments Are Murder (Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery series) by Befeler Mike

Author:Befeler, Mike [Befeler, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Marion forced me to swallow three huge pills before she would accompany me to the restaurant. Then after a call to the local taxi monopoly and a short wait, our chariot driver arrived.

When the cab dropped us off at the restaurant, the first thing I noticed was a gilded entryway with a large chandelier overhead. Inside, the room had multiple identical chandeliers with the lights dimmed and a string quartet playing from an alcove. The aroma of sizzling steak permeated the air. I suddenly felt hungry.

“Pretty swanky,” Marion said.

“Nothing but the best for my bride.”

We were seated at a table with a crisp white tablecloth, gold utensils and crystal glasses. I unfurled a white napkin and placed it in my lap.

When our waiter appeared, I was pleased to see the red mop top of Mallory Pitman.

He didn’t seem to recognize me, so I said, “We spoke at the graffiti wall earlier today.”

He wrinkled his eyebrows and then smiled. “Oh, yeah. Now I remember.”

“As a result of that conversation, I decided to try your fine establishment. You can tell your boss that you’ve brought in a new set of customers.”

“Then I’ll bring you the chef’s hors d’oeuvres on the house.”

He trotted off and soon returned with a plate of pâté, shrimp adorned with a béarnaise sauce and mushrooms filled with crab.

“Not bad,” I said as I munched away at some of the pâté on a dark rye cracker.

We ordered glasses of Bordeaux, salads and juicy steaks. Afterwards I asked for a doggie bag for the steak scraps, and we completed the meal with crepes to die for.

Now fully sated, I signaled for Pitman to come over.

I leaned close to him. “When we spoke earlier today, you mentioned you lived in Boulder. I have a confession to make. I was the guy who turned you in for sawing down trees in people’s yards.”

His eyes grew large. “You’re the one who stuck a stick in my back pretending it was a gun?”

“I don’t remember the particulars, but my wife reminded me of the event. I’m afraid I’m the one who interrupted your art career.”

Rather than acting irritated, Pitman laughed. “I guess I deserved it. My limited local acclaim went to my head. The new scenery here has given me a better perspective on life.”

“But don’t you miss your artwork?” Marion asked.

He leaned close to us and spoke in a soft voice. “I’ve saved some money from tips and can soon afford to rent studio space. I’ll start over from the right basis this time. When the creative desire strikes me, I’ll pursue it in a more appropriate manner.”

“I’m glad there are no hard feelings,” I said. “In fact I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Sure.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m trying to learn more about the art dealers in this community and could use the advice of someone, like yourself, who is versed in the art world. I’d be willing to pay a little stipend if you’d serve as an art consultant to me.

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