Christmas Angels (A Mercy Allcutt Mystery, Book 7) by Alice Duncan

Author:Alice Duncan [Duncan, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

SEVENTEEN

When our eleven-thirty client came in through the outer office door and spoke to me, I was almost sorry I’d made an appointment for him. He’d been fairly incoherent on the telephone the day before. I’d thought he was just upset then, but he was incoherent today, too.

Short and thin, he had a nervous tic in one eye and a monocle in the other. He carried a cane with a silver handle, and he wore black gloves with his black suit. He appeared quite formal, actually. When he doffed his hat, I saw he was bald, although he had a red mustache that curled up on both sides, reminding me a bit of Hercule Poirot from The Mysterious Case at Styles by Mrs. Agatha Christie, which I’d read recently. Only Mr. Poirot’s mustaches were black. This man’s bald head was dotted with freckles.

I smiled sweetly at him as I do to all our clients, and said, “Are you Mr. Brentwood?”

“Me? Brentwood? No. No.” He shook his head hard. “I mean, yes, I’m Mr. Brentwood, but you’re not Ernest Templeton.”

“No, I’m Miss Allcutt, Mr. Templeton’s confidential secretary.”

“But I came here to see…to see…to see…Mr. Templeton, not you.”

I maintained my serenity. For all I knew, this guy was an eccentric millionaire who wanted to shower money upon Ernie’s head. “Let me take you to Mr. Templeton’s office,” I said, even though an idiot would know the open door to Ernie’s office led to…well, Ernie’s office.

“Uh. Er. No. Yes. Er, thank you,” said Mr. Brentwood. He minced toward me as I stood and stepped out from behind my desk.

I took another step or two and stood at Ernie’s open office door. Turning my head and talking to Ernie, I said (and with a smile, too, darn it), “Mr. Templeton, Mr. Brentwood is here to see you.”

“Thank you,” said Ernie without enthusiasm. “Send him on in.”

So I gestured to Mr. Brentwood, who stared at my hand for a second or two, then jerked himself forward and lurched into Ernie’s office. As soon as he’d cleared the doorway, I shut the door. I didn’t want to be in there. Let Ernie handle the weird little man.

They didn’t remain long. After maybe seven minutes, the door to Ernie’s office opened again, and Ernie smiled as he held the door for Mr. Brentwood to exit. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, Mr. Brentwood. I think you really need to talk to the police about this matter. Unless you have more information, I don’t know of any way I can assist you.”

“No. No. Um, the police? Do they know about things of this…this…this nature?”

“They’re supposed to be able to help with things like that. You might want to consult a policeman.”

“Oh dear. Oh dear,” said Mr. Brentwood. “No. They won’t let me. No, they won’t let me.”

“Who won’t let you?” asked Ernie, his smile fading.

“Oh. Oh, no. Nobody. No one. No one won’t let me,” said Mr. Brentwood, making no sense at all.

“Well, if you’re able to give me more information later, be sure to do so.

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