Neal Rafferty New Orleans Mystery #1: The Killing Circle (A Neal Rafferty New Orleans Mystery) by Wiltz Chris

Author:Wiltz, Chris [Wiltz, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Premier Digital Publishing
Published: 2012-03-21T04:30:00+00:00

19

* * *

William Blake Finds a Good Home

I called Fleming's house from the Channel, not expecting him to be there, but to make good my promise to Mrs. Fleming. She answered my call rather icily. I figured she had decided not to like me because she had told me too much but it could have been that she was one of those rare women who don't like to talk on the phone. I told her that her son wasn't exactly holed up in the Plaza Hotel, but that he wasn't in a tenement either, and that his roommate was a mature fellow who was going into business. I made Chase sound like a dedicated career type by insinuation, and I didn't mention that there was another roommate, female, nor that I had gathered the information myself. I did mention that the word was that her son was a rather decent artist. She didn't ask who I was quoting. In fact, she didn't say much at all except thank you and we rang off.

I parked my car in the garage of my office building and walked over to Fleming's office with the bundle. I entered a thickly carpeted reception room, decorated in muted greens accented with blue. A sweet brunette with curls falling softly around her rosy cheeks gave me the welcoming smile from behind her semicircular, completely cleared desk. I told her I wanted to see Fleming and she poked a fingertip that looked as if it had just been dipped in day-old blood at a button on the phone. In response, a striking woman of about thirty, wearing beautifully tailored clothes, emerged from an inner office. She introduced herself as Miss Taylor, Mr. Fleming's confidential secretary. Her makeup was perfect --so perfect that her face could have been cast in stone. Lack of facial expression intensified the image. Her amethyst eyes bit into my face.

“Mr. Fleming sees no one without an appointment,” she said as if sneering at my colossal nerve.

I let my eyes travel at will over her handsomely cut suit. An angry flush strayed onto the cheekbones of her mask. I smiled. “He'll see me without one.”

Air rushed through her nose. “I'll be glad to make an appointment for you, but the earliest possible time will be at the beginning of next week.”

I shook my head emphatically. “You just tell him I'm here now.”

“He's engaged on an important telephone call,” she said. The air turned frostier.

“I'll wait,” I said and slid the box off the brunette's desk and made for a low couch against the opposite wall. Miss Taylor waited until I turned back toward her so I could note the displeasure on her face before she went back inside. The receptionist and I did smiling exercises before she pulled out the paperback she had stashed under the desk.

And wait I did. The revenge of La Frigida. She finally appeared at the door and curtly told me that Mr. Fleming would see me now. I grinned as I slid past her.

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