“May I help you?” a man’s voice asked through some kind of amplified medium.
“Ms. Evangeline Sidney-Gray,” I said to the knobless door.
“And you are?”
“Leonid Trotter McGill of New York City.”
“And your business is?”
“...with Ms. Evangeline Sidney-Gray,” I said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“With destiny and your mistress.”
“I’m sorry but I have no record of that meeting.” A bodiless voice with a reciprocal sense of humor.
“I’m here representing Hiram Stent,” I said boldly.
“Hold on.”
The voice went away or at least stopped communicating and I turned my back on the door. It was a lovely, chilly morning in Boston. There were joggers in the park along with nannies pushing baby-buggies, businessmen and — women striding purposefully among the hoi polloi, and various vagrants looking for anything that might afford them some relief.
A police cruiser slowed down as it drove past. Both cops were looking at me with curious, unfriendly eyes.
“We have no record of any Hiram Stent having business here,” a new voice said.
I turned away from the cops and answered, “But Mr. Stent was employed by a law firm representing Dame Gray’s holding company.”
“What firm is that?”
“Briscoe/Thyme.”
“I’ve never heard of that firm.”
“It is a subsidiary of a London holding company that she in turn holds.”
I quite liked talking to a neutered door. It was a unique experience.
Looking to my right I saw that the police cruiser had parked up the block and that its uniforms were walking my way.
“You might tell your boss that Briscoe/Thyme engaged Hiram Stent to locate Celia Landis and Coco Lombardi, two women, one soul, and a whole lotta grief for us all.”
“Hold on.”
The policemen reached the foot of the stairs I was standing on. They were both white men but, even in Boston, this didn’t necessarily have to be the case. They were tall but I was standing on the topmost stair in front of the impossible door, so I didn’t feel like retaliating.
“Excuse me, sir,” the policeman on the right said. He was hatless and fair.
“Yes, Officer?”
“What’s your business here?”
His partner, who was of equal height but had darker white skin, frowned and put his hand on the butt of his service revolver.
“With Ms. Evangeline Sidney-Gray,” I said jauntily.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Do I need one?”
“She is a very important woman.”
“This is America, Officer, all citizens are of equal importance here.”
“Come down here.”
“Please?”
“What did you say?”
“I was wondering if you were making a request or giving me an order,” I said. That strong heart that Katrina liked so much was about to get me in trouble — again.
“I told you to come down here.”
“Mr. McGill?” a voice said.
Looking around I saw that the door opened like a regular door. I was sure that it was a slider but it had swung inward just like any door with a knob.
The man standing there wore a blue suit of a different species from my own. It was darker and had some kind of highlights, was cut from a cloth that made mine seem like peasant’s wear.
“Yes?” I said to the superior being.
“Ms. Gray will see you.”
“These young men have asked me to go with them,” I countered.
“That’ll be all right, Officers,” the well-dressed, cocoa-colored man said.
I gave an inquiring look to the constabulary. They frowned at me and then shoved off.
33
The home behind the brick facade must have been an impressive Victorian at one time. The entrance hall was large, twenty-four feet deep and twenty-four yards wide, with a desk and secretary in each corner. Maybe eight yards from the wall on the left was a larger desk that was untenanted.
“Have a seat, Mr. McGill,” the black man in the better blue suit offered. He gestured at a box-shaped oak chair that had arms and a maroon pillow in the seat. This furniture was set before the larger, empty desk.
I did sit. From there I could appreciate the various office workers typing, talking on headset phones, and tracking unknown scenarios across broad computer screens.
“How may I help you?” my host asked. He lowered into a chair behind the formidable oak desk that was obviously the seat of his domain in the foyer of the Great Woman.
“Not at all,” I said, looking anywhere but at him.
“But you said you were here on the behalf of Hiram Stink.”
“Stent,” I corrected.
“So what can I do?”
“Either bring me to Ms. Evangeline Sidney-Gray or bring her here to me.”
The master of the reception area had a round head and long fingers. My head was more angular and my fingers could have been roughly rolled Cuban cigars.
“One does not just meet Ms. Gray or bring her anywhere,” the man said.
I noticed that the hubbub of the office area had slowed.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Mr. Richards.”
“Like in the Fantastic Four?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four,” I said as if I were talking Shakespeare to a cretin. “He married the Invisible Girl. She had a dalliance with the Sub-Mariner but finally came to her senses and married Mr. Fantastic.”
“My name is Henry Lawrence Richards.”
“Well, I tell you what, Reed. You call Ms. Gray and ask her if she’s willing to break protocol and meet some man off the street.”
Two big men walked up to the edge of a double-wide doorway opposite the knobless entry. Their dark suits were not as fine as Mr. Fantastic’s but still much better cuts than my poor ensemble. They were watched by the three women and one man stationed at the corner desks. The big men were looking at me but they refrained from actually entering the room.
“You will be talking to me,” the comic book hero said, “or you will be leaving.”
I luxuriated in the roomful of threats. My whole life had been spent in the company of enemies. If I listened to my father the whole world was my enemy; at least that’s what he used to say.
“A man named Hiram Stent,” I began, “approached me to locate a woman named Celia Landis. Ms. Landis it seems was the heir to a great fortune and she was Hiram’s distant cousin, though, before speaking to the representative of the lawyers from Briscoe/Thyme, he had not been aware of the relationship. He offered to pay me out of his finder’s fee but he wouldn’t obtain said fee unless he found Celia. I turned Hiram down and then someone broke into my office... Oh, yes, I’m a private detective. Anyway, someone broke into my office, knocked a hole in my wall, and murdered a young man who, though not legally married, had a significant other and three children. Hiram Stent was then slaughtered by persons unknown and a fellow named Josh Farth came to me and asked if I would find a woman named Coco Lombardi who fit the description of Celia to a tee.”
Staring at me with great concentration, Mr. Fantastic then raised both his palms and his eyebrows, asking, So what?
The big men took this as a sign to take three steps into the room.
“Briscoe/Thyme works solely for Ms. Gray. That means that she is the one who started the ball rolling; a big scary ball that has killed two men and which is headed for a young woman. I considered taking what information I have to the police but, as the policemen outside your door told me: Ms. Evangeline Sidney-Gray is an important woman. So I figured I should ask her what it is I should be doing. Now if Mr. Fantastic and two Things wish for me to depart, I’m willing to call the cops. Cops like to hear names associated with murders. They like to find missing persons and to press charges.”