 CHAPTER 4 (section 1) copyright © 2001, S. Y. Affolee As Adrian kicked the books out from their hindering position between the shelf and the wall, the shelf itself slammed shut, leaving no evidence that there was a hidden alcove. He picked up the books as Simone dusted herself off. “I wonder what used to be in that room,” Simone mused. “I mean, the stuff that our ‘ghost’ took with him last night. It’s obvious that no one has been there often. And no one here knows about it.” “Actually, it would be much more of a task to catch him if indeed everything of importance has been transported out of the room,” said Adrian. “Assuming that we didn’t overlook anything. For all we know, those empty boxes could have great import.” “Yeah.” But she looked skeptical. A knock on the study door below broke their conversation. Mina the maid opened the door slightly and stuck her head in. “Mr. Dubois? There is a phone call for you. From somebody named Ms. Edwards?” “Ah. Ms. Edwards is our secretary,” he explained. “Right.” Mina did not look that interested. “She said something about an emergency.” “Emergency?” Adrian hastily dumped the books into Simone’s arms. His partner scowled at him, but he rushed down the stairs, two steps at a time. “What emergency?” Simone called out after him. “Danny probably called to say she broke a nail attempting to type up a memo.” “You’re really funny, you know that?” he said, briefly turning to give her a mischivious smile. “I’m betting she just discovered a run in her hose.” Behind him, he heard her give a sharp bark of laughter. Down a turn in the hallway, Mina indicated a white laquered phone with golden trim sitting on an equally gaudy table. He picked up the reciever. “Hello?” “Mr. Dubois? Is that you?” came Danny’s shrill voice over the buzzing white noise. “I’m glad I got you. There’s some emergency. A family crisis you could say.” “What family crisis?” asked Adrian, his voice suddenly sharp. “Well, your brother just called a minute ago saying he was heading for a visit and his car broke down at the intersection between Rosemead and Dunkirk. He got his car towed, but he needs a ride.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Okay. So where’s Gavin now?” “He’s in some coffee shop near there. I don’t remember what he said. Truman’s Cofffee? The Coffeehouse of Truman? Java Truman? Trudy Drinks? Or how about...” “Don’t worry, Danny. If it’s around Rosemead and Dunkirk, I’m sure I can find him. Did he also leave a phone number so I could call him?” “Yeah. I had it scribbled down here somewhere...oh, wait, there’s somebody coming into the office.” He heard her put down the reciever, but could still faintly hear her voice as she addressed the apparently new customers. “Good day, sirs. How may I help you?” There was some incoherent mumbling in the background. “I’m sorry, but you can’t do that...hey! What do you think you’re doing? Those are...” The phone suddenly went dead. He could only hear the dial tone. “Danny? Danny?!” He shook the phone but it refused to respond. He slammed the phone back onto its cradle and stormed back into the study. Simone looked up as she was adjusting a few cameras to point back toward the balcony. “So what did Danny...oh.” Her voice trailed off as he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the study. “What on earth happened?” “Danny was talking to me and suddenly the phone went dead. I think there’s somebody in the office with her.” “What? What type of people?” “I don’t know, but I have a strong feeling they’re up to no good.” “What about Danny?” “I hope we don’t find her hurt or worse.” Simone tugged her arm out of his grasp and quickly kept pace with him. “Could they possibly be someone from our previous case?” “At least I don’t think so. They’re all either in jail. Or dead.” “Right.” “She called to say that Gavin broke down.” “That’s too bad,” she said automatically. They rounded a corner, nearly bumping into Mina who was busy mopping up the floor. “Hello Ms. Sung. Mr. Dubois. Gone to the emergency eh?” “An understatement,” Simone said quickly. “Mrs. Greenville also just got back, but she’s resting in her room.” “Tell her we’re really close to finding out the intruder. We just need one more night to stake out the study. We’ll be back as soon as possible,” Adrian called out as they rushed through the front door. “Why did you tell her that?” his partner said, disgruntled. “Something to keep the client happy,” he replied. He grabbed her arm and steered her toward his truck when she was drifting to her own car. “We’ll both take mine. We’ll get there faster.” “You drive like a maniac,” she said, but she followed him and climbed into the passenger seat as he slid into the driver seat and slammed the door shut. “I do not drive like a maniac.” But instead of giving a reason in the argument, he turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the gas petal. The engine roared and they zoomed several hundred yards down the road before Simone could even get her safety belt buckled. From the outside, the office looked as if nothing untoward had happened earlier. But as Adrian screeched into a parallel parking space, nearly hitting the car in front, both of them burst out of the truck and rushed inside, not heeding the strange startled looks from people on the first floor office. He took two steps at a time, but Simone managed to keep up, her pattering feet running up the stairs rather than leaping past them. They burst into Dubois and Sung, ready to confront anyone and anything. But the office looked like nothing had happened. Except for the shattered vase of red roses near the waiting area and Danny who was sitting wide eyed and duct taped to her chair. Simone quickly maneuvered past Adrian and ripped off the duct tape from their secretary’s mouth. Danny screeched. She quickly began working on the rest of the duct tape that was gluing her arms to the back of her seat with a pair of scissors she found in a desk drawer. “Who came in here, Danny? What did they want?” Adrian demanded. Danny blubbered for a few seconds, nearly hyperventilating from the numerous ‘oh my gods’ that she kept repeating. Simone finally cut away the remaining strips of tape and the secretary suddenly surged from her seat and lunged toward Adrian, latching herself onto him. Awkwardly, he tried patting her back even though she was restricting his arms with her bear hug. Simone rolled her eyes at the excessive emotional disply as she crossed her arms, scissors dangling from her fingers. “I told them they couldn’t just march into here,” the secretary said, her sobs quickly subsiding when her employers showed no signs of going into sudden hysterical panic mode. “They were more interested in the vase of flowers, really. They looked into your offices briefly but it didn’t seem like anything they found was of interest. They stole that little card that Danielle’s boyfriend was supposed to give to her.” “Did they say anything? What did they look like?” asked Simone. “Nothing much. They just said something about staying away from Harvey Randall, you know, Denise’s ex-boyfriend. I kept telling them that I wasn’t Danielle, but they didn’t listen to me. They were wearing all black, you know and dark sunglasses like government agents. And they tied me up. As a warning, they said.” “This Harvey Randall must be in some deep trouble,” Adrian remarked as he tried to extract himself from Danny’s embrace. “We’ll probably have to report this incident to the police, but I doubt they’ll do anything. There’s just no evidence.” Simone walked over to the shattered vase. Trampled rose petals laid among the glass shards like some tragic bloody symbol. Simone wasn’t big on sentimental symbols, but she was keen on evidence, no matter how circumstantial. “We’ll have to clean this up then.” “Uh huh,” he said, concentrating on pulling himself out although Danny was reluctant to give up her human teddy bear. “But you know, Adrian, something about this just doesn’t make sense.” |