“Work. Where are we, anyway?”, asked Ed.
“My apartment. How drunk were you last night?”
Ed did a quick review and decided that it was just a normal evening out. “Not much. Just a buzz. I can’t remember the address here, though.”
Ed swore loudly when she told him. He was two neighborhoods away from where he needed to be. He would have to grab a cab and hope traffic was better than on a usual morning. No time to make it home before work, Ed made a mental note to call his mother from the office. Socks and shoes sorted, Ed grabbed a few of the oranges from the floor and shoved them into his pockets. His wallet was still in his jacket pocket, thank god. Archie had given him hell the last time he’d lost his license.
“Can I go out the front door?”
A snore was the only reply. “Damn,” he thought. “Better take the fire escape just to be safe.” Landladies had a habit of waking early and policing who tried to sneak out of their “young ladies” rooms despite the houses’ strict “No Male Visitor” policy. Once he’d tried to run, full sprint, through the entrance hall and out the door to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation with a matronly prison guard. Twelve stitches later, Ed learned to scout out the fire escapes the night before instead.
Ed smoothed his shirt into his pants, swung his jacket over his shoulder and opened the window. He felt guilty for not remembering his date’s name, but she wouldn’t have heard his farewell in any case. Two minutes later he was down on the street desperate to hail a taxi cab.
///
Ed burst through the office door into the small suite of the detective agency he worked for half an hour late. It usually did not matter, in their line of work most office visitors came in late morning, lunch, and late afternoon. Callers first thing in the morning were a rare breed and were content to deal with Lenore Chance, wife of the managing partner, Archie Chance. Lenore looked like a librarian with her old fashioned hair style, sensible outfits, and cats-eye glasses; but like most things in life, Lenore’s look was designed to put customers at ease not to reflect reality. Her husband, Archie, had trained Lenore to be his assistant in the field and in the office. Ed knew from experience that Mrs. Chance had a mean sucker punch and a sawed off pointed at the front door.
Ed had worked for the Chances since he was old enough to take the detective test and get his own license. Archie was an old friend of his father’s and had been looking for someone to train in the gumshoe business after his old partner, Harris, moved to California just about the time Ed graduated from high school. Ed was an outstanding student, but had little interest in college. A summer working for Archie told both men all they needed to know about the other – Ed was a smart, capable (occasionally punctual) employee and Archie was an easy going, pedantic, skilled detective. Ed learned quickly and took pride in mastering all the trade-craft Archie could impart. A few years into the arrangement, Archie put Ed’s name on the door and “Chance & Zeit, Investigators, Ltd” had been born. Lenore was secretary and ran interference when cases were not going as well as could be hoped. All in all, they were a tight team and they got results. The fact that they all enjoyed it was just icing on the cake.
“God, Ed? Where have you been? Archie waited twenty minutes but then started the meeting without you. Come over here”. Lenore rushed around the old desk and typewriter to straighten Ed’s clothing, re-button his shirt, and arrange his hair in a more dignified manner.
“Meeting? I don’t remember hearing anything about a meeting this morning?”
“They just showed up! Out of the blue! Archie and I found them waiting in the hallway outside the door when we showed up. I made coffee while Archie stalled, but eventually they wanted to get down to business.”
“Slow down, Lenore. Who? Who showed up out of the blue?”
“Them,” Lenore half whispered nodding toward the paper on her desk. “The Masters”.
The Masters has been in the papers for over a week now. The husband was the president of a bank that was robbed and the papers had latched onto the gory story of four dead guards and tens of thousands of dollars missing. It was all anyone could talk about. Ed had even discussed it with the cop and the girls the night before. Baltimore was a town made up of neighborhoods and the four dead guards had come from four different neighborhoods in the city. Two had been former cops. Everyone seemed to know someone who was either related to or had gone to school with the dead men. It was the story that would not die, and there never seemed to be any updates, no breakthroughs, no headway made into identifying the robbers or recovering the money. Instead it was photos and stories of the president and his young wife living the high life while murderous hoodlums walked free in the streets.
“Shit” was all Ed could reply.
“Yes but clean up that talk. They could be the biggest thing to happen to us since Harris going west. You look presentable now. Just go in and Archie will catch you up to speed.” Lenore gave him a last brush and pat and then spun his shoulders toward the main office door.
Ed took a deep breath and opened the door as softly as he could. Archie had a large, old desk positioned across from the door beneath two large windows. In front of the desk sat two uncomfortable wooden chairs. Ed’s chair was off to one side next to a smaller table to allow him to take notes if needed. Ed tried his best to slip unnoticed into his chair as Archie was talking and both the visitors did not seem to mark his entrance.
“My partner, Edwin Zeit.” Archie stood and grinned at his partner. “He’s just back from chasing down a lead on another case.”
Guy and Alice Masters nodded their heads in greeting and turned their attention back to Archie. Free to observe them, Ed was struck by just how much younger they looked than their photos in all the papers. Guy was probably pushing 50, but he looked closer to 40. Tall and broad shouldered, Guy had the look of someone who played a sport seriously for a long period of their life – football maybe? Alice was a real knockout. Brunette hair coiffed perfectly, fitted dress and jacket, poise and bearing, Alice was a goddess compared to most of the women Ed had dealt with in this office. She was easily the most confident woman he had ever seen.
“Why not go to the police?”, Archie asked. “Why bring this to us? Surely such a matter would be best handled by the authorities. If there is an insurance claim, they would need to be involved.” Archie’s voice, while deep and resonant, was one of his finest weapons. Regardless of what he said, it seemed to suggest a right and a wrong answer. You did not want to let him down with the wrong answer.
“I’m sure you can understand, Mr. Chance. My wife and I have been in the public eye too much this past week. Additional scrutiny would be…unwelcome. I am dealing with the tragic situation at work with only the best detectives, federal agents, and policemen. I would hate to have this trivial-by-comparison situation distract them from their current pursuits. Besides, I’m certain that this misunderstanding can be resolved without pressing charges or making insurance claims.”