but office acoustics have changed. You can’t always hear the rest of the staff snickering in the background.
When I hung up I liked Lynn Arsenault better than Colonel Mustard in the library.
The next call was to my service.
“Yes, Mr. Walker. Mr. Millender called and asked if you could meet him at his boat instead of his house, same time. He’s going sailing.” She gave me a dock and berth number at the Grosse Pointe Marina.
“Don’t hang up,” I said. “Do you sail?”
She chuckled. “The last time I was on a boat it capsized when I stepped aboard.”
“Clumsy?”
“No, just fat.”
I made a note to stop asking personal questions of disembodied voices. I needed to hang on to all the fantasies I had.
I fished out another thirty-five cents and dialed a number I had memorized at the City-County Building. There was a telephone card in my future.
After one ring a voice I recognized came on. Never mind whose.
“This is the tooth fairy,” I said.
He paused only long enough to make the connection. “No loose molars today, sorry.” But he stayed on the line. I’d sprung him from a jam once involving a female glee club president at Mumford High, which if it had ever come out would have cost him his corner office. The higher he climbed in our democratic society, the more he owed me. Someday he was going to be a powerful enemy.
But not today.
“That’s okay, I’m fresh out of quarters. I’m trying to track down a party named Larry Furlong.” I spelled it. “Senior citizen, recently retired postmaster. Oakland County maybe, only he isn’t listed there.”
“Civil servants are public record. Look it up.”
“That takes days. My client’s in a hurry. The way I see it, your Fed friends outrank mine. They’ll know where his Social Security checks are being sent.”
“One of the reasons they’re my friends is I try not to take advantage of them.”
“I see Mumford’s number one in its conference,” I said.
A drawer banged shut on his end. I thought at first he’d shot himself.
“That gauge is getting low, Walker. You can’t run on it forever.”
“If the service answers, leave the information with them.” I pegged the receiver politely.
Three and a half hours till Nate Millender. I went back to the office to clear up old business. The bulb in the reading lamp in the waiting room had been burned out for a week.
I didn’t get to it then. Stuart Lund was sitting on the upholstered bench with his sore foot propped up on the coffee table.
He had on the same gray custom suit or one just like it, cut skimpy in the shoulders British fashion, with three buttons and a shallow gorge. He took up all of the bench and most of the room. When I came in he pointed his cane at the Casablanca poster in its frame on the wall opposite. “That looks like an original.”
I nodded. “Office-warming present from my wife.”
“I wasn’t aware you were married.”
“Neither was she.”
“It would pay your rent for a year if you’re ever strapped. I’ve represented Mr. Furlong in many negotiations with interior decorators. I’ve learned things.”
“Care to come in?” I shook loose the key to the private bin.
“Thank you, no. I’m just now comfortable. Is this a historic building, by any chance?”
“Just the plumbing. It came over on the Santa Maria .”
“I thought perhaps there was an ordinance prohibiting the owner from installing an elevator.”
“If you’d called I could have met you at the hotel.”
“I needed to get out. I’ve been cooped up in that suite for days. I must say this city presents a better appearance than I’d been led to expect. There seems to be a bit of refurbishing going on.”
“The new administration is starting from scratch. The old one didn’t leave much to loot.”
“Just like London after the Blitz.” He spun the heavy crook of his cane. “Jay had a bad episode last night after I called you. The doctor who came to examine him recognized him,
When I hung up I liked Lynn Arsenault better than Colonel Mustard in the library.
The next call was to my service.
“Yes, Mr. Walker. Mr. Millender called and asked if you could meet him at his boat instead of his house, same time. He’s going sailing.” She gave me a dock and berth number at the Grosse Pointe Marina.
“Don’t hang up,” I said. “Do you sail?”
She chuckled. “The last time I was on a boat it capsized when I stepped aboard.”
“Clumsy?”
“No, just fat.”
I made a note to stop asking personal questions of disembodied voices. I needed to hang on to all the fantasies I had.
I fished out another thirty-five cents and dialed a number I had memorized at the City-County Building. There was a telephone card in my future.
After one ring a voice I recognized came on. Never mind whose.
“This is the tooth fairy,” I said.
He paused only long enough to make the connection. “No loose molars today, sorry.” But he stayed on the line. I’d sprung him from a jam once involving a female glee club president at Mumford High, which if it had ever come out would have cost him his corner office. The higher he climbed in our democratic society, the more he owed me. Someday he was going to be a powerful enemy.
But not today.
“That’s okay, I’m fresh out of quarters. I’m trying to track down a party named Larry Furlong.” I spelled it. “Senior citizen, recently retired postmaster. Oakland County maybe, only he isn’t listed there.”
“Civil servants are public record. Look it up.”
“That takes days. My client’s in a hurry. The way I see it, your Fed friends outrank mine. They’ll know where his Social Security checks are being sent.”
“One of the reasons they’re my friends is I try not to take advantage of them.”
“I see Mumford’s number one in its conference,” I said.
A drawer banged shut on his end. I thought at first he’d shot himself.
“That gauge is getting low, Walker. You can’t run on it forever.”
“If the service answers, leave the information with them.” I pegged the receiver politely.
Three and a half hours till Nate Millender. I went back to the office to clear up old business. The bulb in the reading lamp in the waiting room had been burned out for a week.
I didn’t get to it then. Stuart Lund was sitting on the upholstered bench with his sore foot propped up on the coffee table.
He had on the same gray custom suit or one just like it, cut skimpy in the shoulders British fashion, with three buttons and a shallow gorge. He took up all of the bench and most of the room. When I came in he pointed his cane at the Casablanca poster in its frame on the wall opposite. “That looks like an original.”
I nodded. “Office-warming present from my wife.”
“I wasn’t aware you were married.”
“Neither was she.”
“It would pay your rent for a year if you’re ever strapped. I’ve represented Mr. Furlong in many negotiations with interior decorators. I’ve learned things.”
“Care to come in?” I shook loose the key to the private bin.
“Thank you, no. I’m just now comfortable. Is this a historic building, by any chance?”
“Just the plumbing. It came over on the Santa Maria .”
“I thought perhaps there was an ordinance prohibiting the owner from installing an elevator.”
“If you’d called I could have met you at the hotel.”
“I needed to get out. I’ve been cooped up in that suite for days. I must say this city presents a better appearance than I’d been led to expect. There seems to be a bit of refurbishing going on.”
“The new administration is starting from scratch. The old one didn’t leave much to loot.”
“Just like London after the Blitz.” He spun the heavy crook of his cane. “Jay had a bad episode last night after I called you. The doctor who came to examine him recognized him,
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