Off Plumb

Dominick Morreale

Description

Off Plumb is a fictional novel about Plum Island. It is a retro glance at a group of characters caught up in the chaos of a mystery, romance, and sheer adventure.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure
• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 05 mars 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781622872503
• Langue: English

Extrait

Off Plumb
Dominick J. Morreale


First Edition Design Publishing
OFF PLUMB
By
Dominick J. Morreale


First Edition Design Publishing
Off Plumb
Copyright 2013 Dominick J. Morreale
ISBN 978-1622872-51-0 PRINT
ISBN 978-1622872-50-3 EBOOK

January 2013

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .

Library of Congress Control Number
2013931550
Once again, to Gail...my wife and soul mate.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


It is impossible to thank all of the people who assisted and offered help while I was in the process of writing this book. Some deserve special note. Jennifer Maertz, Esq. provided commentary about the story, but more importantly she offered legal advice concerning some of the issues that are addressed in the book. Given her talents and insights for improving society, there is no doubt that her political aspirations will be fulfilled.
Sue Hansen, Dan Manzella, and John Rose offered suggestions that enhanced the final manuscript.
The greatest encouragement for publishing Off Plumb and my previously published The Legend Of Benny came from my son Randal. He is a true blessing to me.
Dr. Anthony Castellino helped me push aside the obstacles and move the book forward.
Lois Dunne, a dear friend from college days, has always been there.
Karen Jonaitis, who attended school with my children and is now a recognized professional proofreader, provided great revision suggestions. I thank her and am very proud of her.
Tom Gahan, the Director of Marketing for First Edition Design, has been an incredible source of assistance in the publication of this novel.
I started this acknowledgement by saying it is impossible to name all of the people who helped me--this is especially true of those individuals who offered information concerning activities and experiments which have allegedly taken place on Plum Island. Your request for anonymity will be respected, but also know that your help will always be appreciated.
Writing and having a book published can be fun, but it is not an easy task. Deborah Gordon, the Executive Editor of First Edition Design Publishing, went to great lengths to facilitate the publication of this novel. From her help in designing the cover to her assistance with the editing she showed incredible creativity, knowledge and patience. I will always appreciate her efforts.
DISCLAIMER


Plum Island exists. It’s a tiny speck of land off the tip of eastern Long Island, but it’s existence is one of the few truths in this novel. Off Plumb is a work of fiction. The characters, happenings and events sited in the book are a product of my imagination and are not based on reality. Any resemblance to real people or incidents is merely coincidental.

Please also note that I took some liberties with history and geographical fact. And, yes I know, the ferry to Plum Island is not stationed in Greenport. The changes make for a better story line.
Chapter 1
‘Autumn Leaves’ Roger Williams, 1955

Today, just like every other day of the year, the ferryboat Misty was leaving Greenport and heading to a small island named Plum. The small craft flag warnings posted on the dock meant it would be a rough trip. Most of the passengers were workers on Plum Island and the motion of the boat, even in stormy waters, was routine to them. The “regulars” consisted mostly of maintenance and secretarial staff, along with a smaller group of professional staff such as administrators, scientists and researchers. For visitors the ride could be exceptionally tough. This morning there were two of these visitors on board. These regulars laughed at the term “visitor” since, from a practical view, there are never any visitors. In fact, anyone who sets foot on Plum Island is required to have the government’s highest security clearance. The infrequent visitors were, with few exceptions, governmental agency personnel who had specific research or security assignments on the Island.
Only one of the passengers remained on the outside deck, standing in the stern just to one side of the rear cabin door. The cabin frame served as a windshield and a shelter from the waves that were breaking over the bow of the ship. Over the years of making this daily trip, this passenger had experienced many moments of rough waters. He learned that staying in the cabin would make him sick to his stomach, so even in the dead of winter storms, Dr. Ronald Demay braved the elements rather than go inside the cabin. His fellow employees found this behavior odd but then again, if asked, they would politely say that most of his actions were strange. Even his appearance is somewhat difficult to describe. Not handsome, yet his features are so pronounced that people in general, and females in particular, would say he is good looking. His six foot body looks larger than it actually is because of his bone structure and broad frame. His skin and hair give a clear indication of his Mediterranean heritage and his graying temples suggest he is in his late forties.
Dr. Ron thought about going into the cabin, but from inside he heard a radio blaring “Run Around Sue,” the number one song on this week’s music chart, so he reconsidered. He enjoyed rock and roll but it was too early in the morning for brain shattering music. Besides, he frequently thought his habit of staying outside to avoid getting sea sick was really just an excuse. He disliked the gossip that took place in the cabin and was convinced that most of the regulars on board were busy bodies, willing and anxious to talk about anyone, usually in disparaging terms. Dr. Ron wasn’t a snob, but in situations like this he preferred to be alone.
Divorced for almost ten years, with no children and practically no family to speak of, he had become acclimated to being alone. His apartment in Greenport, above the law offices of Polski and Polski, was private and allowed him to spend a great deal of secluded time working on data and reports related to his research on Plum. He also enjoyed living in Greenport, a town that he perceived to be reminiscent of a typical New England village, but in fact is on Long Island in New York State.
By and large the permanent residents think of Greenport as their birthright town. During the summer its population escalates, as New York City residents flock to its seaside atmosphere. For the remainder of the year the town is quiet and reserved. There’s a main street with the customary hardware, grocery, and liquor store as well as several taverns. The taverns are similar in that they each display window signs advertising their special version of the region’s renowned “raw bar.” Main Street is approximately five blocks long and ends at the town dock. The tranquil atmosphere generated by the town was conducive to Dr. Ron’s life style and the work he performed. Although he rarely admitted it to anyone, he loved his work and relished being consumed by it. Nights were usually a prolongation of his work day and routinely each morning he would compact his papers, graphs, charts and books into his leather briefcase in order to carry his precious cargo five blocks to the Plum Island Ferry.
To his fellow workers this man was not viewed as a typical scientist. He dressed conservatively in sweaters, usually V necked “Perry Como style” and most always wore a tie. On warm days he often donned a shirt and tie, in contrast to the administrators who always wore a suit or to the other scientists who preferred the grungy look. Ron was a sharp looking guy and yet his appearance often seemed somewhat dowdy or professorial, an image caused by his frequently being weighed down by the enormous pile of work stuffed into that tattered old briefcase.
Once again the wind urged him to move into the cabin, but one look through the cabin window at all the chatting that was going on, again made him relent. He pulled his collar up and hunkered down, convincing himself that the cold didn’t really matter. Besides he could see Plum Island on the horizon, so it wouldn’t be that long before they docked. As the island got closer he thought about its history. It was purchased by the government during World War I. Naval ships stationed at the Groton Naval Yard in Connecticut would cross Long Island Sound and use it as a prime target. In fact, military ships bound for Europe would customarily take their final practice shots at Plum Island, before heading out to sea.
The Misty passed the western most point of the island, and approached a small sheltered cove on the southern shoreline heading for the ferry ramp. Like most government structures, the ramp was overly constructed, with too many iron beams and an overabundance of cement. Ironically, the recent budget cut, had not allowed for proper maintenance. Rust was visible on all of the metal surfaces and the constant ramming of the ferry, along with the harsh Atlantic winters, had taken their toll on the cement and wooden bulkhead.
Before the Misty even banged into the pilings, the cabin passengers began to make their way onto the sea deck.
“Morning, Ron. You’d think they’d spend a few bucks and paint the damn thing but no...they’ll wait until it‘ll cost a million to replace it.”
Demay didn’t turn to see who was talking to him; after so many years he automatically knew it was Lodi Genna. “It’s the American way. Everything is becoming disposable. We don’t repair anything