If I have been silent for the past several days, pardonnez-moi. I have come down with a terrible influenza that kept me, as you say, ‘bed-ridden’ for a whole week in Boston. However I am back, en bonne sante. I have since left Boston; I had a misunderstanding of Monsieur Todd; his gratitude I took for mania, and when he ‘offered me a shave’ I mistook for a mad plot against my life. Though the matter was resolved later with the psychologist, it led me to conclude that I had settled everything I could in Boston and that I had to move on. Interestingly I was given a case by mon bienfaiteur that was quite odd and perhaps trivial but nevertheless interesting; he wanted me to go to the city of Denver, to the state of Colorado, to the Denver Museum of Art, where apparently at 3:00am the morning of Monday the overhead speakers broke out in a bizarre piece of music. Though perhaps trivial, he said this case could be very serious, and I need a new case, so gladly I accepted.
Only yesterday I arrive, and I visit the Museum of Art, and I find out that all the museum staff was completely docile as to occurrence; the security had no interest in looking into it further, regarding it some foolish prank, and the curator, Mr. Andrew Cushing, was so consumed with setting up his brand new exhibit, “Anonymous: Paintings of the Unknown”, that he’s given little thought to the occurrence. Granted, he gave me access to the tape today that was playing overhead in the museum as a concession, but to hear that there was an inspector on the case seemed to him excessive and unnecessary.
I await to listen to the tape; so far I am thoroughly annoyed with the casualness I am dealing wtih.