Lovecraft and James Investigate - Chapter 2 - Part 2

NaNoWriMo 2006 novel. Writing 50,000 words in 30 days. Quality may suffer.

Montague arranged for the porters to fetch his cases and descended from the ship onto Manhattan island and for his first step on American soil. The docks, previously teeming with activity, were now virtually deserted, only a few workers ambled about, unenthusiastically going about the business of preparing the vessel to depart again. Detective Inspector McGarvey followed Montague down the ramp, followed in turn by the porters carrying his bags. At the bottom stood a small man in tweed smoking a pipe, he was about forty something years old, had his tie loosened and top button undone against the heat, and seemed incapable of standing still, pacing about, hopping from foot to foot, or just fanning his face with his hand.

'It's a mix-up,' he said, chewing the words along with his pipe, 'a damned mix-up from start to finish and no mistake excuse my French. Montague James I presume.'

Montague confirmed the man's presumption and extended a hand which was shook vigorously.

'Ted Shuman, professor Semitic Languages, University New York, at your service,' said the man. 'I am sorry Mister James but it is a damned mix-up from start to finish, excuse my French. Are those your bags?' he gestured to the two porters descending from the boat. 'In the car fellas.' The man pointed to small ford motor car parked on it's own in the middle of the dock. 'First of all they upped and decided to fumigate the whole campus, every single lecture theatre unusable. Did they know we had a conference planned? You know part of me thinks they really did and they're just showing us who's the boss. Either way, in this case they are the boss and there's not a building we can use till September so we've had to cancel the conference, which left yours truly with the unhappy business of informing several dozen hacked off academics who were going to travel all the way across the country that there was nothing here for them if they did. And of course yourself, we wired Cambridge as soon as there was any doubt but it was too late, you had already left. It is a damned mix-up and no mistake, excuse my French.'

'So the conference?'

'Cancelled Mister James. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but we did everything we could. We scoured the city for an alternative venue but there was not anywhere that would suffice. And then second of all. Second of all. You were to stay with us in the Village but last weekend the wife's sister broke her leg getting off a tube. Busy day, lots of passengers in a hurry, somebody behind her pushes and she slips and falls down the gap. Breaks her leg. If you ask me the man should be arrested, pushing a lady off a train like that, but that's beside the point, the point is that she can't look after herself at the moment so she's had to move in with us and that takes up the spare room leaving no room for you.

'So I tell the university first thing. I say "I've got no room to put up Mister James any more, what are we going to do? They say there's no conference so it's not their problem. So I tell them that they're the ones that cancelled the conference in the first place with their unscheduled fumigation and it's not my problem that it's not their problem. So that kicks off a whole argument goes all the way to the top. Only I'm hacked off, excuse my French, so I'm not taking no for an answer this time.'

'Excuse me,' interrupted Detective Inspector McGarvey, 'but I need to know where Mister James is staying.'

'I'm sorry buddy,' replied Shuman, 'we weren't introduced. Ted Shuman, University New York.'

'Detective Inspector McGarvey, New York City Police.'

'Detective inspector? Is there some problem?'

'No problem. I just need to know where Mister James will be staying.'

'Well that's what I was just saying,' said Shuman. 'They didn't want to spring for it but I argued this one. I'd managed to get hold of everybody else that was coming but Mister James had already left. I told them, "we invited him in good faith and he's already on his way. I argued it all the way to the Chancellor. Told him the reputation of University New York was on the line here.'

'And?' insisted the detective inspector.

'And I got the Hilton. He's in the Hilton all expenses covered by the university till we find him somewhere more appropriate.'

'Very well,' said the detective inspector to Montague, 'I'll be wishing you a good day then sir.'

'Good day,' said Montague, shaking the policeman's hand.

'If you move on from there you be sure to let us know.'

'I will.'

The professor got the car started and lurched it away at frightening speed, turning with a squeal of tires into a busy Manhattan street. Montague found himself gripping the door handle with white knuckles and looking up out of the windows at the high rise buildings.

'Quite something aren't they?' said Shuman, 'best bit about taking visitors round the city is the look on their faces when they arrive.'

'It certainly is impressive.'

'Impressive it certainly is. Look I am really genuinely sorry you came all this way for nothing, we'll find something for you to do I'm sure. University New York ain't the only show around. I'll contact colleagues in Boston and Philli, see if I can't get you some other gig. Be a crying shame to ship over a man of your talents and make no use of you. Say. Why don't you come in to the department tomorrow see what we're up to, maybe you can lend a hand.'

'Thank you,' said Montague, still taking the in the scenery of the city as it flashed past. The height of the buildings was not all that that struck him, he had known American was an immigrant nation but the sheer diversity of people, and indeed the sheer number of people he saw on the pavements was an astonishing sight for an old Cambridge scholar. Not to mention the sheer number of cars that raced around the streets, all passing within inches of each other at speed. And the noise, the noise of the city was immense, of the cars, of the people, of the occasionally rumbling subway train he caught flashing past through a metal grill, the whole thing an overwhelming cacophony that swamped his senses and his ability to take it all in.

'Oh,' said Shuman, digging about with one hand in his jacket pocket while still steering the car with the other, 'you had a visitor.' Shuman handed Montague a note. 'Fan of your other source of income I guess. Pale young fella from Rhode Island, funny manner about him. We gave him the address of the hotel and he said he would call on you. Hope you don't mind.'

Montague read the note.

My Dear Mister James.

H.P.L.

With a screech Shuman pulled the car up outside the hotel.