I was at a club watching a local punk band I liked, The Grims. They were fronted by a professional actor, Basil Cobb. A skinny, dirty-looking guy climbed up on stage and scratched Basil with his nails. Basil recoiled. The bouncers grabbed the guy and tossed him out. The show went on.
The next day, in the local news, there was a story. Basil had come down with a weird bacterial infection. He was in critical care at Boston Hospital.
I called the band's manager, Jim Stanton, a friend of mine. Jim said that the scratch Basil got caused a systemic infection. I asked about the skinny guy who scratched Basil. Had he been arrested? Jim said he didn't know what happened to the guy.
I took the train in to Boston from the suburbs. I wanted to find out about the skinny guy. Jim said Basil had noticed there was a slimy residue on the skinny guy's fingers. The skinny guy scratched Basil and rubbed the slime around the scratches before the bouncers got him away.
I went back to the club. It was closed, but the staff was there now that it was afternoon. They were prepping for the night. I asked everyone if they knew anything about the skinny guy or saw anything last night regarding him. The bartender said the skinny guy was sitting at the bar early in the evening when not many people were in the club. He ordered a few beers. The bartender asked him what his accent was and the man said he was from Serbia. He had a book on the bar. Bartender said it was a history book--'The History of...something'--the bartender said. Looked like an old book.
A bar regular got into a conversation with the skinny guy. They talked for an hour or so, said the bartender. The regular's name was George Melanson. He was a music theory lecturer at Boston University.
I looked up Melanson's address on the web. He lived in the Lower Allston neighborhood of Boston, a five-minute walk from the bar. I walked to the house and knocked on the door. Melanson opened the door. I knew him from the faculty photo I saw on the web--a fifty-something fashionably shabby man. I explained I was trying to find the skinny man because Basil was very sick. Melanson let me in.
Melanson said he got into a conversation with the skinny man because the skinny man was reading a book on the History of Serbian Folk Music, which was an interest of Melanson's. Melanson said the skinny man's name was David Markovic. Melanson went into his wallet and pulled out Markovic's card. It said Markovic worked for Thalassocratic Imports and Exports, at an office on Seaport Boulevard, Boston. There were some weird symbols imprinted on the card. I asked Melanson if he knew what they were. Melanson shrugged. I asked if I could photograph the card with my smartphone. He said sure.