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The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"Bert took the job knowing it was a missing person. He might try giving it to Jamison."
"Jamison doesn't know his butt from a hole in the ground on anything but raising the dead."
"Yeah, but he's always eager to expand his repertoire."
"Ask him if he can be at my office. ." She paused while she leafed through her appointment book. Business must be good. "At nine tomorrow morning."
"Jesus, you always were an early riser."
"One of my few faults," she said.
I asked George Smitz if nine o'clock tomorrow was all right.
"Couldn't she see me tonight?"
"He wants to see you tonight."
She thought about that for a minute. "Why not? It's not like I have a hot date, unlike some people I could mention. Sure, send him over. I'll wait. Friday with a client is better than Friday night alone, I guess."
"You've just hit a dry spell," I said.
"And you've hit a wet spell."
"Very funny."
She laughed. "I'll look forward to Mr. Smitz's arrival. Enjoy Guys and Dolls ."
"I will. See you tomorrow morning for our run."
"You sure you want me over there that early in case dream boat wants to stay over?"
"You know me better than that," I said.
"Yeah, I do. Just kidding. See you tomorrow."
We hung up. I gave Mr. Smitz Ronnie's business card, directions to her office, and sent him on his way. Ronnie was the best I could do for him. It still bothered me that he wouldn't go to the police, but hey, it wasn't my wife.
I've got two kids, he'd said. Not my problem. Really. Craig, our nighttime secretary, was at the desk, which meant it was after six. I was running late. There really wasn't time to argue with Bert about Mr. Smitz, but. .
I glanced at Bert's office. It was dark. "Boss man gone home?"
Craig glanced up from his computer keyboard. He has short, baby-fine brown hair. Round glasses to match a round face. He's slender and taller than I am, but then who isn't? He's in his twenties with a wife and two babies.
"Mr. Vaughn left about thirty minutes ago."
"It figures," I said.
"Something wrong?"
I shook my head. "Schedule me some time to talk to the boss tomorrow."
"I don't know, Anita. He's booked pretty solid."
"Find some time, Craig. Or I'll barge in on one of the other appointments."
"You're mad," he said.
"You bet. Find the time. If he yells about it, tell him I pulled a gun on you."
"Anita," he said with a grin, as if I were teasing.
"Bert took the job knowing it was a missing person. He might try giving it to Jamison."
"Jamison doesn't know his butt from a hole in the ground on anything but raising the dead."
"Yeah, but he's always eager to expand his repertoire."
"Ask him if he can be at my office. ." She paused while she leafed through her appointment book. Business must be good. "At nine tomorrow morning."
"Jesus, you always were an early riser."
"One of my few faults," she said.
I asked George Smitz if nine o'clock tomorrow was all right.
"Couldn't she see me tonight?"
"He wants to see you tonight."
She thought about that for a minute. "Why not? It's not like I have a hot date, unlike some people I could mention. Sure, send him over. I'll wait. Friday with a client is better than Friday night alone, I guess."
"You've just hit a dry spell," I said.
"And you've hit a wet spell."
"Very funny."
She laughed. "I'll look forward to Mr. Smitz's arrival. Enjoy Guys and Dolls ."
"I will. See you tomorrow morning for our run."
"You sure you want me over there that early in case dream boat wants to stay over?"
"You know me better than that," I said.
"Yeah, I do. Just kidding. See you tomorrow."
We hung up. I gave Mr. Smitz Ronnie's business card, directions to her office, and sent him on his way. Ronnie was the best I could do for him. It still bothered me that he wouldn't go to the police, but hey, it wasn't my wife.
I've got two kids, he'd said. Not my problem. Really. Craig, our nighttime secretary, was at the desk, which meant it was after six. I was running late. There really wasn't time to argue with Bert about Mr. Smitz, but. .
I glanced at Bert's office. It was dark. "Boss man gone home?"
Craig glanced up from his computer keyboard. He has short, baby-fine brown hair. Round glasses to match a round face. He's slender and taller than I am, but then who isn't? He's in his twenties with a wife and two babies.
"Mr. Vaughn left about thirty minutes ago."
"It figures," I said.
"Something wrong?"
I shook my head. "Schedule me some time to talk to the boss tomorrow."
"I don't know, Anita. He's booked pretty solid."
"Find some time, Craig. Or I'll barge in on one of the other appointments."
"You're mad," he said.
"You bet. Find the time. If he yells about it, tell him I pulled a gun on you."
"Anita," he said with a grin, as if I were teasing.