11:45 am 10th January 1920
Passing under the impressive edifice of Pennsylvania Station sent an involuntary chill down Solomon's spine as he emerged onto the main concourse.
Putting his valise and violin case down he leaned against a pillar, ostensibly watching the mass of humanity frequenting the station going about their business whilst having a smoke and checking his interior pockets for his ticket and “business cards” giving his occupation as “Musical Instrument Salesman”
The thought “What lurks beneath?” forced its way to the front of his mind seemingly of its own volition as people went about their business.
Nothing was ever as it seemed........
Having satisfied himself he wasnt being tailed, unlikely though this was it paid to be careful. The Organisation's "cleaners" prided themselves on their anonymity. In spite of this the Feds and their informers got everywhere these days and who knows what snippet of information they might get wind of by accident?
Better to be safe than sorry......
A trip to a newstand concluded with the purchase of a newspaper partly to read and also for discouraging unwanted conversation on the train. A visit to the cafeteria resulted in sandwiches and coffee followed by a leisurely stroll to board the train
Solomon had nearly made it to the train when the clattering of fashionable Parisian high heels came from behind him, followed by a fleeting impression of a young woman in a luxuriant fox fur passing at a speed that shouldnt have safely been possible, given her footwear.
By the time he got to the conductor to present his ticket, she had boarded.
Solomon took a seat by himself and a couple of minutes later with a venting of steam and a jolt the train pulled away for the four and a half hour journey to Vermont.
Folding the broadsheet newspaper in half, Solomon indulged in some people watching while pretending to read the Baseball results and eating a sandwich whilst taking an occasional sip of coffee..
A cursory inspection of the carriage revealed a mixed selection of other travellers from New York socialites to one young man whose fur coat belied the well worn appearance of the rest of his apparel.
Monday, 9 August 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
all is not what it seems . . .
ReplyDeleteI like these, keep 'em coming!
Praise indeed - I hope one day to match your efforts B-)
ReplyDelete