Page 139 of Checkmate
TWO YEARS AGO
“Explain this again, young man.”
Marcus tried not to squirm under the gaze of the three older gentlemen staring down at him. First, the Lord Provost, Angus MacFarlane, an old man with grey hair. Next, Thomas Newton, local celebrity and the oldest living resident in the city, also old with grey hair. Finally, Arnold Heward, this time old and bald, with some big wig job with the council that Marcus didn’t understand. “You want to create a walking tour?”
“Yes, Sir,” Marcus replied, nodding once. “A ghost tour to be specific.”
“I see,” Angus said, writing something down. “And you want our backing—”
“Approval,” Marcus interrupted. “Approval sounds better.”
“Okay, approval.” The man looked at him like he was crazy. Marcus couldn’t blame him. On the outside, he projected calm confidence. The reality was he could barely support his own legs as he tried to remember everything his dad had taught him about interviews.
“I guess I just don’t understand why you need our approval,” said Arnold, wrinkling his nose. “There are walking tours aplenty, and I assure you, they didn’t ask permission.”
“I understand that,” Marcus said with a nod. “But I don’t want a tour that everyone else is doing. Have you been on those tours?” He asked, not waiting for an answer. “Because I have. And if you’ll forgive my language, they’re pretty shit.
“Anyone with a basic knowledge of our city’s history can throw a few words together and point to the right buildings to make a quick buck. Most of the time, they’re not even giving out the right information.”
“And you will?” Thomas asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose. ”What makes you qualified?”
Marcus shrugged, chewing his lip. “Honestly, I don’t have any official qualifications. I just love this city. Born and bred here, and so was my dad before me. He raised me on stories of the wandering drummer and the lady who haunts the pub. Any knowledge I have is self-taught, but when you have a city as rich as ours in history, why wouldn’t you soak yourself in that history?
“And as any decent historian would tell you, the best parts are the sordid parts. Sure, the old buildings are magnificent, and they make for a fantastic photo. But the better story is the people who lived inside those buildings.
“The newspaper editor who dug a little too far into a particular story haunting the hotel that once housed her office. The pipe player who they sent down into the catacombs, only to never return. Lady Agnes, who refuses to leave her post behind the bar at her local pub. There’s so many stories to tell, so much history to —”
“I think we see your point,” Angus said with a small chuckle. Marcus’ ears tinted pink. Damn his mouth for running away from him. He always spoke too much. “Clearly you’re passionate, young man. So let’s talk business. Are you requiring financial assistance?”
“No,” Marcus said firmly. “What would you be financing? At most, I’d need something to amplify my voice, but I hardly think I’ll have massive crowds to begin with.”
“But this is where the confusion lies,” Arnold said. “What exactly do you want from us?”
“Exactly what I said,” Marcus replied. “The stamp of approval from the three most important men in the city would go a long way. A mention of my tour on the council website, or on the tourist board, with your approval, will give me some legitimacy. I won’t be just another walking tour, but the walking tour.”
“Ahh, I finally understand,” Angus said with a smile. “You want the edge over your competitors.”
“Yes. I really believe in this idea of mine, and I think it could go somewhere really great. Which can only mean good things for the city. But to get that great ending, I need a fantastic beginning.”
Marcus fell silent as each man looked down at him, trying to assess if he was worth taking a risk on. He wanted to keep talking, to sell himself until no one could refuse him. But his last sentence felt like a winner, and so he stayed silent, hoping that his little plan would work.
“I say why not,” Thomas said finally. “I like you, young man. You clearly have a lot of passion for this.”
“I agree,” Arnold said with a firm nod. “And really, what do we have to lose by saying yes?”
Two out of three. Marcus didn’t dare to breathe as he turned to Angus. It was his opinion that really mattered, after all. He was the most powerful man in the city.
“I think we need to take this tour ourselves,” Angus said after a moment. “Just to see what you’re offering. But like my comrades, I can’t see the harm in giving you a little boost. It could be mutually beneficial to us all.”
Marcus barked out a laugh, relief flooding his body. He approached the three men, offering each of them his hand. “Thank you,” he said, shaking Angus’ hand. “Truly, you don’t know what this means to me.”
“Oh, I have an inkling, young man. We all wish you the very best of luck. I see great things for you, Marcus. Great things indeed.”
PRESENT DAY
“Yes, I understand.”
Marcus stared at the ravaged contents of his storage garage, surprised by the genuine pang in his chest. They’d taken everything. The bus he could understand. At least it had value. But why they went for the costumes and tour merchandise, he didn’t understand.
