Mark Meltzer Writings: Days 33-43

Note about Investigating O.O.L.'s Warehouse
I was right… I am being watched…

but not by who (or what) I thought.

I tracked down Lutwidge’s warehouse office (lab?) today.

Still in legal limbo  the burnt-out back area in disguise.

Signs of squatters… much of what was here must have

been picked apart by scavengers. Nothing valuable left.

Just a box of old reel-to-reel tapes in a fire-proof box

shoved on a back shelf, hidden by burnt timbers. Most of

the tapes looked damaged  warped by the heat. I shoved

one into the inner pocket of my trench-coat as I crawled

back out.

The second I reached the street  lights blasts in my face.

Stango & 2 beat cops. They shook me down. (Somehow

missed the tape reel or didn’t realize it was from

warehse) Hauled me back to the station, sat me on the

chair and sweated me for 3 hours. Everything but the

rubber hose. Stango finally gave up & and slapped me with a

bogus crim. trespass charge. (It would never stand up if

fought it  no clear owner w title to file complaint! But

I coughed up the bail & and will deal with the fine if it

comes to that. Not worth the fghit fight.)

Not positive what Stango’s chasing… But from what he

was asking  he thinks I kidnapped my own daughter? Have her

locked up somewhere? Poss. to draw interest attn. to my

research. Clearly thinks I’m crazy possibly danger “to

my self & others.” Makes me wonder if he’s been in touch

with Amanda or Dr. Lyman  we know what THEY think.

I have to watch my step…

all eyes upon me, all hands against me.

Notes about Lutwidge Recording, 7/10/69
Listening to Lutwidge's words... cold chills, hackles

rising. It's as if he knew I was coming. Anticipating

my that, a decade later, there would finally be someone

perceptive enough to pick up the trail of clues. But do

the clues make sense? Do they point in the rigt direc-

tion - towards my Daughter?

3 AM. If Stango's men were watching, I managed to shake

them. Circled back to the warehouse. Lutwidge's message

meant exactly what I thought: a hatchway hidden beneath

the floorboards. And what I found there - WHAT IS IT?

A vault? A puzzle? The "key" to Rapture? (With a "sev-

enfold lock?")


 * Lutwidge - insane genius?
 * Intentional blind?
 * Dead end?
 * Trap?
 * Who is he?
 *  How did he build this thing? 

Summary of Notes on O.O.L.
9-3-6?             O.O.L.


 * (Orrin Oscar Lutwidge)
 * Known Information to Date


 * Sept. 3, 1906 – Sept. ? 1958? (disappeared)


 * Successful inventor – master forger – cryptography hobbyist


 * Wealthy – owned multiple properties


 * Various workshops/offices in various bldgs.


 * Maze of shell companies


 * LIDDELL & LEWIS Publishers


 * LUTWIDGE PROPERTY MGMT


 * SCARLET SOVEREIGN?


 * -other partners incl: A. Rianofski    Anagram? …odd…
 * Warden Yarn Co. & Arden N. Wray


 * Used pseudonyms – recurrent initials: O.O.L.


 * O.O. LEWIS   O.O. LIDDELL


 * -Wrote book under Liddell pen name:


 * “A CHILD’S GARDEN OF CYPHERS ”


 * -Contains same code as Lunchbox puzzle!


 * -HOW? WHY?


 * -Book pub. In 1947 – did my daughter read it?


 * Or did she find it WHEREVER she went?


 * (“Rapture?”)


 * O.O.L. investigated the Vanishing


 * At least 1956-58 (poss. earlier)


 * Was in touch with J. Lynch ( Ireland ) and Celeste Roget ( Paris )


 * (Roget hates him – says he was dangerous/liar)
 * (Lynch calls him "trickster"/Rascal)
 * WHICH IS TRUE?


 * O.O.L. disappeared –


 * final msg. was about finding “true rapture”


 * O.O.L. may know SOMETHING – left behind cryptic puzzle / tape


 * (may be other msgs. in other locations – must find them!)


 * YET O.O.L. left affairs in disorder – no heirs – some bldgs.


 * disused/abandoned. Was he expecting to come back???


 * FIRE in lower B’way workshop – Dec. 1958-


 * destroys most O.O.L. ’s effects & papers


 * ATTEMPTED COVER-UP?? By who?

Note
Muh-he-kun-ne-tuk?
 *  Indian ?

Old Iroquois name for river
 * (Significant? or is Lutwidge just being OBSCURE?)

''RED QUEEN? SW = ??? River? unlock  looking glass''
 * ROAD S to RAPTURE

Letter to Celeste Roget

 * Mark G. Meltzer
 * P.O. Box 4668 #32890
 * New York, N.Y. 10163

Dear Celeste:

You're right...I've been avoiding you. In part because I feel like I’m finally closing in on the truth. And I can’t let you divert me. I can’t left anything divert me. LUTWIDGE IS THE KEY TO ALL OF THIS, I can feel it. If I can close in on his secrets - then I can find my daughter. I know you know that feeling. I’m sure you flet it when you were searching for your father… when you started climbing up those mountain trials behind the sherpas… I’m sure you could almost see his face in the mist.

And that’s what terrifies me. Because I know what you lost in the process. I know what I’m gambling if I god own the wrong path.

But what if this is the RIGHT path? What if this will lead not only to Cindy but to Jean Louis? What if there’s some truth to Lutwidge’s mad riddles?

My whole life I’ve been trying to make sense of this world - all the parts of it that never added up. When I was 10, I discovered Chas. Fort - his catalogs of strange facts. The incidents that science refused to acknowledge - “the damned.” Fish that fell from the sky. Lights that dart through the night. People how vanish, never to be sseen again. I would lay awake under the covers, with a flashlight - convinced I could see the pattern of it all. I was chasing the Mystery - an even bigger, grander mystery than the pulp novels that were my previous passion. The dots could all be connected - Order would be brought from Chaos, and the innocent would be saved. And it would be my doing… the mind triumphing over all this mayhem - all this random meaningless mess that is this world.

But that’s not how life works. We just see the shadows on the screen - and muddle through. And some people master this day to day existence and think they’ve won. I always made a mess of it - every book I ever tried to write unfinished, every business deal half done. My marriage surviving by sheer momentum. Both of us just staying together because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

But Sometimes late at night - it all seems so clear. I glimpse those labyrinths of half-hidden facts in teh back columsn of the newspapers. I know I can make sense of it - it’s what I was put here for

But that’s how I lsot Cindy, isn’t it? Chasing the shadows… When you stare into the face of the abyss the abyss stares back

The facts dont add up it all leads to notighn menas nothingh means