Excerpts from the Journal of Guy Chapman

Dated March 15th, 2019 – March 18th 2019

3/15/2019

I arrived in Denver late yesterday evening on my red eye flight from Miami. This is the fifth leg of quite a lengthy business trip. My partner Tom and I went our separate ways this weekend. I have high hopes that he can close the deal in Chicago. I digress. I had a peculiar experience late last night, truly this morning. My plane arrived close to two in the morning. My hotel firmly located in the downtown area was my goal. I climbed aboard the train to Union Station, my bags and briefcases in tow. Not five minutes into the trip did we stop to pick up passengers anew. A sickly sweet odor flooded my nostrils and my peculiar night began. What I can only describe as an ill-fitting man, dragged himself onto the train. Long legs covered by a pair of aged, baggy khaki slacks. Pale, stubby fingers protruding from an oversized tweed jacket, coattails hanging far down his backside, not helping to veil his impossibly short torso. I have never seen a man with such conflicting proportions. Atop his head an out of place green and yellow plaid ivy cap covered wisps of long black hair. The sickly sweet smell strengthened as he crept down the length of the train car. Thankfully he continued into the next car, blissfully taking the smell with him. Upon my arrival at the station I took a glance at the train as it departed. Red eyes met mine, a grin a yellow and green that matched his hat remained in my mind’s eye as the train pulled away. I hardly remember checking into my hotel. I sit now in a plain room on the sixth floor that is perfect to suit my needs for this trip. I have several important meetings and a fine dinner to attend tonight. I hope my weary state does not hinder my ability to close this deal. At least these meetings will distract my mind from the ill-fitting man.

3/16/2019

Yesterday’s meetings went smoothly. I am quite pleased with the progress I made on the Oakridge deal. After my conversations yesterday I am certain we will finally be rid of this wretched investment. I will have to visit the development south of Denver before my trip concludes, but the thought of that endless pit of spent money makes me queasy. Luckily Tom seems to be having similar success in Chicago. It is not often an idea of mine fails so spectacularly, but I could go a lifetime without hearing the word “Oakridge” and I would be a happy man. A most curious thing did occur at dinner last night. I ordered a rich red wine and a filet mignon with whipped potatoes as I usually do at these business meeting meals. The wine, an aged pinot noir from Napa Valley dark and crimson in color, was enjoyable despite a subtle metallic flavor. I made nothing of it as it was an old bottle and my dinner guests made no mention of the taste. My entree on the other hand was a completely different story. Medium-rare as always but when I made to take a bite of the succulent meat an eerily familiar smell filled my nostrils. A sickly sweet scent and a wicked smile. My appetite disappeared immediately. I retired to my hotel room posthaste. I am unable to shake the image of the ill-fitting man crawling down the length of the train car. I luckily slept soundly despite fretting all night. There was no yellow and green hat to haunt my slumber. I am grateful for the rest as I have much to be about today. I have skipped breakfast. I am sure my appetite will return in short order. More meetings today and off to the development tomorrow. 

3/16/2019

I am once again safely in my hotel room. I could not wait until the morning to write of what happened this evening. I once again encountered the ill-fitting man on the train. I took the train south in the afternoon to meet with an old friend for dinner. I rode back into the city late in the evening after dinner, around ten. Sitting on the train, the smell filled my nostrils again. My stomach turned. I looked frantically for the ill-fitting man, but could not spot him. Luckily the train was quick to arrive at the station soon after the smell struck me. Red eyes, a wide toothy grin stared at me after I again cast my gaze upon the departing train. What does he want from me? I close on the deal tomorrow and I have every intention to escape this place as soon as I can. I fear I will not sleep tonight. Every figure passing below my window seems to walk with legs too long, lumbering down the street. That smell permeates my room. 

3/17/2019

I startled awake this morning, risen sharply from my anxieties the night before. My hotel room bore no sickly sweet scent from which I run. In fact, there were no signs that anything at all was amiss. I was able to stomach a bowl of oats this morning and I can’t help but feel foolish at my own paranoia. Reading back upon the entries I scrawled late last night one would think me a mad man! I must have dozed off in front of my notebook and woke too confused to differ my dreams from reality. Today should be a good day. I soon hasten off to finally broker the Oakridge deal and rid myself of these dreadful townhomes. 

3/18/2019

The buyers have insisted upon one more inspection before finalizing the deal, will I ever be free of this mistake? My paranoia is not unfounded. The ill-fitting man is REAL. His scent follows me everywhere. I nearly blew the deal completely yesterday. I froze up at lunch after I spotted a bright green and yellow hat bobbing towards me through the restaurant. The sickly sweet smell that no one else is seemingly able to detect? My lunch was putrid. I fled from the establishment when those red eyes met mine. Hardly something that is easy to explain to the buyers I am trying to schmooze. Once the inspection today is complete I will leave town, sale or no. I can smell him, see his smile in every dark corner. I don’t know what the ill-fitting man wants from me. I simply must be gone from this place. 

3/18/2019

SOLD! I am done with this awful Oakridge plan and ready to get out of this city. An unfortunately timed snow storm has prevented me from getting on a plane and departing this evening, so I once again hide in the ‘safety’ of my hotel room. The ill-fitting man’s smell is dominating my senses. As I write now my eyes water, my attention divided between my racing thoughts, the window, and this notebook. I know I saw him outside earlier. I must have. Red eyes staring up at me, a painful grin like a wound ripping through its face. I haven’t seen him since but the smell has grown only stronger. Even as I write now I am clutching a kitchen knife in my hand. What did I do? Why did it choose me?

THE DENVER GAZETTE

March 19th, 2019

MYSTERY at THE MARRIOTT by Samuel Sanders

A corpse was discovered in the early hours of Tuesday, March 19th in the Marriott hotel located on 15th street in downtown Denver. The victim has been identified as a man named Guy Chapman. Video surveillance shows the Mr. Chapman checked into the hotel in the early hours of March 15th. Curiously video surveillance does not show anyone entering or leaving his hotel room after that date. The death of Guy Chapman has puzzled the local police force. Most at a loss for how this could have transpired. Most people do not die from self-inflicted stab wounds, which have been reported to be found in substantial quantities on the body. Speculation to the origin of the savagely created wounds have investigators at a loss. Most are unable to stab themselves in the back after all. Mr. Chapman was reportedly in town to sell the never finished Oakridge development south of the city. Perhaps his debts finally caught up to him, perhaps there is something more nefarious afoot.