The Second Floor | The Game Around the Game (64.02)

[mragland]

12.20.2063 – Brooklyn, New York

Arlo sat in the coffee shop, sipping on a caffè americano, sifting through his inbox on his phone. Across from him, on the small table sat a cup of latte, steaming away.

The bell over the door jingled and Arlo looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered man enter. Arlo recognized him and raised his left hand to get the man's attention.

He quickly walked over to the table, shaking off the Brooklyn winter air, as Arlo rose from his chair. “Arlo?” he queried.

Arlo nodded.

“Seymour,” said the man, extending his right hand.

“Thanks for meeting me,” said Arlo, shaking Seymour's hand.

“Not a problem,” said Seymour, taking the empty seat across from Arlo. “This is a handy spot for me, office is just up the street.” Seymour took a sip of his latte. “I understand you've got some lingering concerns about this whole pitching machine business, but surely that's not what brought you to the city this time of year.”

“Oh, no,” said Arlo. “Here with the wife. She's always wanted to come to New York for the holidays. Big fan of that old Pogues song, and all. Anyway,” said Arlo, shifting in his chair, “this is her shopping day, so I'm at liberty.”

“Uh-huh,” said Seymour. “Well, I'm not sure what more I can tell you about what happened that you don't already know.”

“I suspected as much,” said Arlo, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward, “but the whole thing's been gnawing at me for months now. I don't know, call it a matter of professional pride, I suppose, but I can't seem to let the matter drop. A man's career may have been completely derailed because of this. That the perpetrators should go unpunished … it just doesn't sit well with me.”

“I understand the feeling, believe me,” said Seymour. “I take it the authorities weren't able do much with it?”

“They were not. We shared everything we had gathered with them, eventually, but the physical evidence led nowhere, I'm afraid.”

“I'm not surprised.” Seymour put down his cup. “Well, there have been no incidents with the machines stateside, from what I've been able to gather. Since you all put us on alert, I guess whoever it is figured that that particular approach won't work, for now. As for who they might be, I can only speculate, but I think you're looking at a third party who was hoping to shop their expertise around.”

“But why, Seymour? Is it gambling interests looking for an edge, what?”

“Maybe. It could also be they're offering to work on a contract basis for a club. There are some scoundrels out there, Arlo. Scoundrels who really like winning … at any cost. These billionaires, they operate on a different level. I think some of them are well beyond profit and loss considerations with these clubs, they're playthings to them. But this group, whoever they are, got caught, maybe early enough that they've moved on to something else. This could be a one-off and we never hear from them again.”

“Here's hoping,” said Arlo, not entirely satisfied with what he was hearing.

“If you want my advice,” said Seymour. “Stay vigilant. Keep your eyes and ears open. That's the best use of your time now. I'm afraid you're just chasing after ghosts with this thing.”

Arlo sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You're probably right.”

Seymour checked his watch. “Listen, you and the wife enjoy your visit. If there's anything else you need, you know how to reach me.”

Arlo nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

[OKCMarinersFan]

Always enjoy reading through these!