and now it seemed as though everyone clamored to speak to her. What could Hotchkiss possibly want? She pictured the handsome, fretful secretary before she saw him adjusting his tie beside the three-faced clock in the Sentinel âs lobby. He looked nervous. A young man, likely a reporter, sauntered over and murmured something to him.
In response, Hotchkiss reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a lighter. The young man put a cigarette in his mouth and bent over the secretaryâs cupped hands.
âMr. Hotchkiss.â Kitty approached them.
Mrs. Basshorâs secretary fumbled and dropped his lighter.
âThanks.â The young man strolled off, puffing away.
Hotchkiss picked up his lighter and put it back into his pocket. âGood morning, Miss Weeks.â He sounded more than a little flustered.
âWhat brings you here, Mr. Hotchkiss?â Kitty said. âMay I help you with something?â
The secretary wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. âCan we speak in private?â
âThis way.â Kitty led him to a marble bench in a quiet corner of the atrium.
âMrs. Basshor doesnât know Iâm here.â The secretary remained on his feet. âSheâll worry if Iâm not back soon. You might think it odd of me to be so concerned, but I owe her everything. Iâd be nowhere and nothing without my employer.â
âI understand, Mr. Hotchkiss.â
âYes, well.â He coughed into his hand. âLet me start by saying that I came to you, Miss Weeks, instead of anyone else because I thought I might be able to count on your discretion. You seem to me like a young lady of tact and understanding.â
âI appreciate the compliment, Mr. Hotchkiss, but I havenât got all day.â
âOf course.â His smile was apologetic. âI believe you are aware that when Mrs. Cole was questioned by the police detectives, she said that sheâd been waiting for her husband at the childrenâs tables for the duration of the fireworks?â
âYes.â As far as Kitty was aware, no one had been able to confirm Mrs. Coleâs claim. On the other hand, no one had disputed it either.
âI have reason to believe that that may not be entirely accurate.â
âGo on,â Kitty urged.
âWhen I was at the club yesterday, wrapping up some housekeeping matters, one of the waiters approached me and said that he had something troubling to report. Apparently, one of the ladies had lost her bracelet and asked him to search for it. He hunted around the childrenâs tables for at least five or six minutes while the fireworks were in progress. During that time, the tables were empty. He said there was no one sitting there at all.â
âWhy didnât he tell the police?â Kittyâs mind raced through the implications of this new information.
âHe didnât think it mattered at the time.â
âI see. Well, perhaps you should report it now.â
The secretary smiled nervously. âMrs. Basshor would fire me on the spot if she knew that I was talking to you out of turn, let alone bringing one of her guestâs movements to the authoritiesâ attention. The waiter wonât say anything for the same reasonâthe club frowns on it. I could have kept quiet,â he added, âbut instead, I decided to come to you .â
âWhat can I do about it, Mr. Hotchkiss?â
âYou could speak to Mrs. Cole and find out what happened. She wonât mind if it comes from another young lady. And in the end, it might be nothing. She may have needed to powder her nose, or something like that. Something she wouldnât have wanted to tell the detectives.â
âAnd suppose she doesnât have a convincing answer?â
âThen perhaps you could inform the authorities?â
âReally, Mr. Hotchkiss.â He wanted her to do his dirty work. He wanted her to question Mrs. Cole and
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