Fumbling with the keys outside his black sedan, Archie tried to keep his thoughts on the case at hand. A wealthy couple with a flimsy story, promises of a huge payday, and a comfortable retirement were all elements of the case that fought for attention as the old detective pulled around the front of the building just in time to see Mr. Masters enter a yellow cab in front of the office building.
The retirement thought was the one that gave Archie the most trouble. He pushed it to the back of his mind for careful study later. Surely he did not want to retire so badly that he was willing to take an obvious bribe to track down a young woman for reasons unknown? The fact that he was tailing the Masters and not chasing down the blonde was good enough for his guilty conscience right now.
The taxi was not difficult to follow in the mid-morning traffic downtown. As expected, the Masters exited the cab in front of the main offices of their bank. It was an imposing building in mid-town with at least a dozen floors and hundreds of workers. The top floors must give a decent view of the harbor as they faced the waterfront only a few blocks south. The marble edifice was imposing, but familiar. Every newspaper for the past week and a half had run a picture of it under the banner headlines every day or two. A gaggle of reporters could be seen staking out the building at the end of the block. There had been some commotion when the Masters had pulled up, but no one got over to the entrance in time for questions or pictures. A squad of uniformed policemen protected the entrance and were glorified doormen for the executives coming and going through the glass and brass building front.
The aging detective took a parking spot across the street and settled in for what turned out to be a quick wait. Almost immediately Mrs. Masters exited the building and jumped into a fresh cab. Archie’s sedan leaped off the curb in pursuit; cutting off two other drivers in the process. The taxi immediately turned up Charles Street and led Archie on a tour through the city to the quiet neighborhood of Roland Park. Charles Street changed from a bustling boulevard of commerce into a stately oak-lined avenue with mansions and huge houses on either side of the road. Archie knew from the papers that the Masters lived in the neighborhood, but he was unprepared for the opulence on display as the taxi turned down a side street crowded with mansions complete with places to tie up a horse outside the front gates. At the end of the street, behind a high privacy hedge, stood a palatial modern home that dwarfed the homes that led to it. The circular drive in front of the mansion held Mrs. Masters’ taxi.
Three stories high, painted dark gray, with floor to ceiling length windows; the Masters’ home left no question in Archie’s mind that they were as wealthy as the papers said they were. His car, nice as it was, would stick out like a horse cart in this neighborhood. Archie drove back out to Charles Street and parked close enough that it would only be a few minutes walk to get back to the Masters’ modern chateau.
Blending in was one of the first lessons learned by a detective, and Archie knew he needed something to help create the impression that he was permitted to be there. Armed with a clip board, notebook, and pen; Archie was prepared to play the part of a water meter inspector if confronted.
The old detective walked by a worn, beige sedan a block from the home in which three men were eating sandwiches. The windows were rolled down and jazz music played low from the radio. Even if Archie did not recognize the reporters on sight, he would have known who they were by the camera sitting on the back seat and the smell of cheap cigar smoke emanating from the vehicle. Reporters loved to smoke the cheapest tobacco they could get their hands on, and Archie would have been more surprised if he hadn’t found at least one gaggle staking out the Masters’ abode.
What also marked them as reporters was the placement of their car. They could see vehicles entering and exiting the lower part of the street, but they could not see the actual house itself. “Piss poor planning, fellas,” Archie thought to himself as he passed by pulling his hat low to keep from being recognized. Reporters were not as stupid as they acted and his water meter inspector guise would not be believed. Luckily, music and food was more on their minds than keeping an eye on one man walking down the street.
Half a block from the Masters’ home, the first red flag went up in the back of Archie’s mind. Three maids in full uniform carrying their coats in the warm, spring weather exited the hedge gate. The taxi was nowhere in site. As the distance closed between them, Archie could tell the oldest maid was annoyed and the two younger maids were in much better spirits.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Archie said as they drew near. “Can you tell me if anyone is available at the Masters’ to let me in and check the water meter? The last readings came back much higher than before and the main office sent me out to make sure a mistake wasn’t made. Beautiful day to get out of the office, if I do say so myself. If I’d have known where they were sending me, I would have worn my nicest suit.”
“Yes, sir,” answered the oldest maid, a woman in her mid forties. “Mrs. Masters just arrived home. She should be able to assist you. She usually asks that tradesmen knock on the door around the right side of the residence. The water meter is next to the kitchen in the butler’s pantry. Can you do us a kindness in return? Do you know when the bus to downtown will be by next?”
“The Charles line runs every half hour I think,” Archie checked his watch. “Should be by in another ten minutes or so. Not used to leaving work this early?”
“No, sir,” she answered, “not at all. A sudden free-day,” she added without mirth. “Come on girls, we have a ways to go before the bus stop.” The maid waived the younger women around Archie and up the sidewalk toward Charles Street.
“Just a second, miss! Can you tell me if there is somewhere nearby I could make a phone call? The office wanted me to let them know as soon as possible so they could recalculate the bill before the mail went out this afternoon.”
“If you go north on Charles Street for another three blocks there is a grocer’s that will let you make calls,” she called back over her shoulder. Archie shouted his thanks and headed down the street toward the mansion. He studied the windows on the way, there did not seem to be any movement. If Mrs. Masters was alone in the house, which Archie hoped was true for at least the moment, she probably would not be for long. Sending away the help suddenly and without warning meant something was going on. Something out of the ordinary.
Archie arrived at the gate and let himself in. Just as instructed, he followed the concrete path off to the right instead of approaching the front door. Looking around the corner and then over his shoulder, Archie confirmed that he was alone and seemingly unobserved. Instead of ringing the kitchen doorbell, he kept walking and didn’t stop until he was safely behind a large rose bush in the backyard. The hedge wrapped around the house and the whole yard was as private as could be. If there were houses nearby, they could not be seen or heard through the thick foliage and hedging.