Invasion of Privacy - Jeremiah Healy

Invasion of Privacy - Jeremiah Healy by Jeremiah Healy

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Authors: Jeremiah Healy
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the rough edges of the sign, I
guessed. —
    Paulie shrieked at me. "I can do my job! I can
do my job! I'm the super!"
    Then he began to cry, and I apologized for
interrupting him before getting back into the Prelude.
 

    =8=
    Reaching the shore road again, I turned north,
passing on the right the "scenic overlook" where the
developer of Plymouth Willows had ended his problems the hard way.
After the bridge, I entered the downtown section of Plymouth Mills
and slowed to fifteen miles an hour. Sliding past the photocopy shop
on my left, I could see the lights on and a person behind the counter
helping a customer. I found a parking space against the opposite
curb.
    Crossing Main Street, I walked to the shop's door,
holding it open for the man coming out. Inside, the counter occupied
the rear of a shallow front room, a door beyond the counter closed.
There was no visible furniture, the paneling reminding me of the
cheap stuff in Boyce Hendrix's office back in Marshfield.
    As the shop door closed behind me, an Asian woman
looked up from the cash register on the counter and smiled. She was
perhaps early thirties, in a blue oxford shirt with some designer's
squiggle on the pocket. Her hair was pulled behind her head in a
simple ponytail, her nails short but polished, her makeup modest. She
also wore a wedding band on the left ring finger.
    "May I help you?"
    A slight, singsong accent. "Yes. I'd like to
speak with Mr. Dees, if he's available."
    She glanced at the telephone next to the register, a
tiny red light glowing through a clear button. "He's still on
the phone, but if you don't mind waiting, I'm sure he'll be done
shortly.”
    I said, "My name's John Cuddy, by the way."
    The woman just nodded. "Fee."
    "Fee?"
    "Fee."
    "Short for . . . ?"
    A gracious smile. "Filomena, but I could never
stand that name. 'Filomena the Filipina,' you see what I mean?"
    "Manila?"
    "Just outside." Filomena reached under the
counter for some forms that she began counting. "Met my husband
there." She waggled the ring finger at me. "He's in the
service here, the South Weymouth Naval Air Station."
    I liked the way Filomena answered my question by also
answering one I hadn't asked. "I came by before lunch, but you
seemed to be closed."
    Still counting the forms, she shook her head. "Sorry
about that. Andrew was working at home this morning, and I was
supposed to open up when the car blew some kind of belt on the way.
I'm just part-time here, but I hate to let Andrew down."
    "I didn't see any competition to worry about."
    Filomena looked up. "Do you mean here in town?"
    "Yes."
    She went back to the count. "No, but that
doesn't mean you can take customers for granted, either. Andrew says
that if you have a shop in the suburbs, you make your mark by giving
'persona1ized service.' "
    I decided to nudge things a little. "Sounds like
the voice of experience?
    "Who, Andrew?"
    "Yes. He's done this kind of thing before?"
    "Not that he ever said."
    Best not to nudge too much. "Have you worked
here long?"
    "Almost since the place opened. I'd been in the
market for a part-time job. Cover when the kids are at school, you
know'? I was lucky to stop in just when Andrew needed somebody to
help out."
    I heard a faint click, and Filomena glanced again at
the phone. The red light was off, but as she reached for the
receiver, the light came back on again. "Sorry, I didn't catch
him in time."
    "That's okay." I gave it a beat I hoped
seemed natural. `
    "Ever work in a photocopy shop before?”
    "No."
    "How do you like it?"
    "What's not to like? The work isn't exactly
challenging,  but at least you don't go home worrying about it
afterwards. And the closest thing there is to danger on the job is a
paper cut."
    "Danger?"
    Filomena looked up from the telephone before going
back to her forms. "Like an industrial accident, or getting
robbed. Plymouth Mills is a pretty quiet town, but a liquor store or
even a convenience mart can be a target. Who's going to hold up a
place that

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