BESTSELLERS & BEST FRIENDS
My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.
If this is your first visit, be sure to start with “1. Let’s do it!”
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Weird thing is that what I was going to blog about yesterday, before learning that Freeman died, is maybe an even better thing to write about now that Freeman’s died.
Being fans of Robert Parker’s Spenser books, Freeman and I got a special kick out of Spenser’s dog, Pearl. And smiled that Parker’s own dogs had the same name.
Years ago, a friend invited me to Parker’s house in Cambridge for drinks and a tour of the house. Cool!
My friend had bought that chance in a fund-raising auction. I phoned Freeman immediately. He was as excited as I was.
Parker, and a Pearl
Parker’s house, the room with the window to the left of the door was his office
Then Freeman said, “You gotta grab something for me. You know, like an ashtray or a pen.” That hardly aligned with Parker’s charitable intent, but hey, I do like a challenge.
I was curious to see the house because Parker and his wife, Joan, had an intriguing arrangement. He lived on the first floor, she on the third. On the second floor is where they met for meals and entertained.
Otherwise, they stayed out of each other’s hair. Brilliant. And it had made for a long marriage.
Five of us showed up, had a drink with the Parkers in their garden, then Joan gave us a tour of the house.
In the front door and to the left was Parker’s small office. (He would die at the office’s desk within the year.) A door from the office opened to his bedroom. And there on his bed were too large black dogs. Pearl One and Pearl Two. They wagged their tails.
And in that moment, I knew exactly what to do.
A door opened from the bedroom to a living room. Joan led the way. I allowed her and the others to go first. Then I quickly stepped back to Parker’s bed, grabbed a handful of fur from Pearl Two’s neck, and shoved it into my pocket. The perfect Parker item for Freeman.
The next day I mailed Pearl’s stolen chunk of fur to Freeman.
Bob and Joan Parker in garden of their home
Sigh. Freeman’s gone, Parker’s gone, Joan Parker’s gone, and I gotta assume Pearl Two is long gone. I’m in a funk.
Oh, and BillyF100 posted this comment on yesterday’s blog: “Einstein’s dead. Heinz’s dead. You’re next!”
Hey loser, I’m not in the mood. Whoever you are, I know you’re reading this, so here — FUCK YOU!
Tomorrow: Saying good-bye