Boston to Baltimore Shuttle

It's been a few weeks but they've been busy ones -- and that's good news in my line of work. If I'm not busy then it means I'm not making money, and if I'm not making money, well... like everyone else, I need to eat.

I did let my former client's sister hire me. In some ways it may have been a conflict of interest but, given that her brother was no longer my client and that he ticked me off by taking a lack of me finding anything as some sort of proof, I decided to have her ink a contract. Of course all hell broke loose and this time it was my former client banging down my office door. Oh, how I just love the drama.

Basically, I've been working this month on tracking down the province of their family heirlooms. We're talking about items that should be in a museum somehwhere, predating the Revolutionary War. There wasn't exactly a Boston-to-Baltimore shuttle back then but segments of this family moved between the two areas for a number of years. I'll provide a little more detail when I feel it's appropriate to disclose. Right now the case is still too sensitive.

Something Out of Nothing

Unbelievable. I thought I came away with nothing during my trip to Baltimore, but when I showed my client the records I found (or lack thereof) he was ecstatic. I shrugged as he went on his merry way. I got paid, after all.

A week later his sister barged into my office and blasted me for causing a family crisis. With the "lack of evidence" he declared ownership over a collection of family heirlooms. I told her it was a matter for the courts but she demanded I "right" my "wrong."

I'm still debating what I should do but I suppose I could always charge her...

Warning in Baltimore

Well, that was a heck of a trip. I spent the better part of a week in Baltimore tracking down ancestral information for a client. No, I don't usually hire out my services for genealogy studies but this one piqued my interest. If the right relative was found then my client could have claimed a nice piece of land. As it turns out, I was unable to do so although I had a nice tour of the Enoch Pratt Free Library. I even hunted down an old birds-eye view map of the city from 1870 and got a great glimpse of the old Madison Avenue Grounds baseball field. Of course, that inspired me to catch the Red Sox - Orioles game that night. It was like Fenway Park at Camden Yards! A horde of Red Sox fans were there... but I digress.

Before I left, I was feeling a bit discouraged so I walked down to the site of Edgar Allan Poe's grave at Westminster Hall. I walked the entire ground and witnessed an interesting collection of people. Two men were sitting on a grave marker eating lunch and two other men were traipsing around the small cemetery with expensive video camera equipment. A small family stopped in at the Poe monument and make a quick exit. I approached one of the crypts, noting the rusted keyhole in the iron door. I reached my hand out, tempted to touch it when one of the cameramen called out, "I wouldn't do that."

I spun around and he approached me. With a tripod slung over his shoulder he whispered, "If don't know what you're doing, you don't want to make the spirits restless. Behind me, a tree branch fell to the ground just in front of the crypt's door. I jumped and stared at the keyhole, again tempted to touch it.

The cameraman walked off shaking his head. "You've been warned."

Rain Out

It drives me nuts when the Red Sox get rained out but it drives me absolutely insane when a Red Sox - Yankees games gets rained out. I'd made a mad dash to get home, too, burning through a couple red lights just to get back home and catch the game. What a waste of traffic violations.

Under normal conditions I would have gone to Tanner's but I need to take an important phone call at my house. It's one of those calls in which you don't want the person on the other end hearing the ambient noise of a bar in the background. No, I really don't want to go into the nature of the call at the moment. The loss of the game is enough.

I can't even take Alex out and toss the ball around for the time being. It's raining here as well but I was holding out that it hadn't reached Boston. That was silly of me. So... I spent some time in the Sox chat room coming up signs to make for Johnny Damon should we get lucky enough to make it to a Sox - Yankees game this year. A few of the guys came up with some really good ones, but I think a sign showing how much money he's made over the years would be appropriate. Really, when you've made millions upon millions of dollars how many more cars do you need? Well, Coco is younger and seems to have a nice upside to him. We'll see how it pans out.

Ah, there's the phone...

Surveillance with a Slap

I had a simple surveillance job last night: assure my subject dropped off a loan payment. It wasn't so simple, however, when that subject just happened to be escorting Monique Courbure. She knows my car. She knows my face. She especially knows how to seek me out and act as if I'm missing something by not being with her - the last time at Tanner's in which she slobbered up half of some guy's head. Why can't this woman just get out of my life?

I knew where the drop point was supposed to be so once I spotted Monique I ditched my car and pursued on foot. It was only a five block trek and with traffic, my pace nearly matched their's. Fortunately, "my subject" dropped off the payment as instructed and all seemed well. Easy money.

However, as I sat later in Tanner's with Dennis Frohman, icy fingernails glided across the back of my neck. I looked up and there was Monique. I just stared at her.

She leaned down to me and purred. "You don't have to stalk me. You know where to find me."

For a moment I was dumbstruck but finally replied. "Who said I was following you?"

Her jaw tightened and she slapped me across the face. "You don't know what you're missing."

Dennis laughed as Monique stormed off. I simply took a swig of my Sam Adams and murmured, "Oh, yes I do."

Opening the Case Log

Chase Michael DeBarlo
April 10

This initial post is not a case, it is merely an explanation. I keep a database of all my cases as well as files on work I've completed and I've also published some of my larger adventures, yet I've decided to begin a blog. Some would say that I'm just trying to latch onto the latest fad but I simply believe it has something to do with my incessant need to journal and chronical most everything I do.

Perhaps I'll take a more personal approach with this one, use it as a means in which to spout off occassionally. I'm sarcastic enough as it is and that does come out when I share my work in the form of a published medium, however, this method just seems different. Case information will go here as well as a more raw version of what I'm feeling and experiencing at the time. In my general writing I've had more time to reflect. Not here.

Will I share this as well? This blog is on a public internet site and I can make it accessible to whomever I choose. Heh... I'll share it with my friend, Rock Rickman. He'll get a kick out of it. Actually, I do wonder sometimes whether he writes things like this or not - he's so danged reserved. Even so, he's still been more reserved than usual lately. I also had the sneaking suspicion that he moved from his apartment because he was running from something. Ah... you wonder when this move occurred? (Oh no... I'm speaking to an imaginary audience.) That happened during one of my last big cases, the System of the Dead case as I like to call it.

At the moment I'm trying to land some work. If nothing comes up today maybe I'll go tease Police Detective Len Stevens about his doughnut cravings.