In the Midst of Death by Lawrence Block Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lawrence Block
whichPrejanian shared with a couple of accountants, a photocopying service, some import-export people, and, on the ground floor, a shop that repaired shoes andreblocked hats. I climbed steep stairs that squeaked, and too many of them; if he'd been a flight higher I might have given up and turned around. But I got to his floor and a door was open and I walked in.
On Tuesday, after my first meeting with JerryBroadfield , I had spent almost two dollars' worth of dimes trying to reach Portia Carr. Not all at once, of course, but a dime at a time. She had had an answering machine, and when you reach an answering machine from a public phone you usually lose your dime. If you hang up fast enough, and if you're lucky and your reflexes are good, you get your dime back. As the day wears on, this happens less and less frequently.
When I wasn't wasting dimes that day I tried a few otherapproaches, and one of them involved a girl named ElaineMardell .
She was in the same line of work as Portia Carr and lived in the same neighborhood. I went over to see Elaine, and she managed to tell me a few things about Portia. Nothing firsthand- she hadn't known her personally- but some gossip she had heard at one time or other. That Portia had specialized in SM fantasy fulfillment, that she was supposedly turning down dates lately, and that she had a "special friend"
who was prominent or notorious or influential or something.
The girl inPrejanian's office looked enough like Elaine to be her sister. She frowned at me and I realized that I was staring at her. A second glance showed me that she didn't really resemble Elaine that closely. The similarity was mostly in the eyes. She had the same dark deep-set Jewish eyes and they dominated her entire face in much the same way.
She asked if she could help me. I said I wanted to see Mr.
Prejanian and she asked if I had an appointment. I admitted I didn't, and she said he was out to lunch, as was most of his staff. I decided not to assume she was a secretary just because she was a woman, and started to tell her what I wanted.
"I'm just a secretary," she said. "Do you want to wait until Mr.
Prejanian gets back? Or there's Mr.Lorbeer . I believe he's in his office."
"Who's Mr.Lorbeer ?"
"Staff assistant to Mr.Prejanian ."
That still didn't tell me a great deal, but I asked to see him. She invited me to have a seat, pointing to a wooden folding chair that looked about as inviting as the bed inBroadfield's cell. I stayed on my feet.
A few minutes later I was sitting across an old oak veneer desk from ClaudeLorbeer . When I was a kid, every schoolroom I was ever in had a desk just like that for the teacher. I'd had only female teachers except for gym and shop, but if I'd had a male classroom teacher he might have looked something likeLorbeer , who certainly looked at home behind that desk. He had short, dark brown hair and a narrow mouth with deeply etched lines like paired parentheses on either side of it. His hands were plump with short, stubby fingers. They were pale and looked soft. He wore a white shirt and a solid maroon tie and he had his shirt-sleeves rolled up. Something about him made me feel as though I must have done something wrong, and that my not knowing what it might be was no excuse at all.
"Mr. Scudder," he said. "I suppose you're the officer I spoke to over the telephone this morning. I can only repeat what I said earlier.
Mr.Prejanian has no information to make available to the police.
Anycriminous action which Mr.Broadfield may have performed is beyond the scope of this investigation and surely not in any way known to this office. We have not yet spoken to members of the press but will of course take the same tack with them. We will decline to comment and will stress that Mr.Broadfield had volunteered to make certain information available to us but that we had taken no action in respect to information furnished by him nor dowe anticipate so doing while Mr.Broadfield's
On Tuesday, after my first meeting with JerryBroadfield , I had spent almost two dollars' worth of dimes trying to reach Portia Carr. Not all at once, of course, but a dime at a time. She had had an answering machine, and when you reach an answering machine from a public phone you usually lose your dime. If you hang up fast enough, and if you're lucky and your reflexes are good, you get your dime back. As the day wears on, this happens less and less frequently.
When I wasn't wasting dimes that day I tried a few otherapproaches, and one of them involved a girl named ElaineMardell .
She was in the same line of work as Portia Carr and lived in the same neighborhood. I went over to see Elaine, and she managed to tell me a few things about Portia. Nothing firsthand- she hadn't known her personally- but some gossip she had heard at one time or other. That Portia had specialized in SM fantasy fulfillment, that she was supposedly turning down dates lately, and that she had a "special friend"
who was prominent or notorious or influential or something.
The girl inPrejanian's office looked enough like Elaine to be her sister. She frowned at me and I realized that I was staring at her. A second glance showed me that she didn't really resemble Elaine that closely. The similarity was mostly in the eyes. She had the same dark deep-set Jewish eyes and they dominated her entire face in much the same way.
She asked if she could help me. I said I wanted to see Mr.
Prejanian and she asked if I had an appointment. I admitted I didn't, and she said he was out to lunch, as was most of his staff. I decided not to assume she was a secretary just because she was a woman, and started to tell her what I wanted.
"I'm just a secretary," she said. "Do you want to wait until Mr.
Prejanian gets back? Or there's Mr.Lorbeer . I believe he's in his office."
"Who's Mr.Lorbeer ?"
"Staff assistant to Mr.Prejanian ."
That still didn't tell me a great deal, but I asked to see him. She invited me to have a seat, pointing to a wooden folding chair that looked about as inviting as the bed inBroadfield's cell. I stayed on my feet.
A few minutes later I was sitting across an old oak veneer desk from ClaudeLorbeer . When I was a kid, every schoolroom I was ever in had a desk just like that for the teacher. I'd had only female teachers except for gym and shop, but if I'd had a male classroom teacher he might have looked something likeLorbeer , who certainly looked at home behind that desk. He had short, dark brown hair and a narrow mouth with deeply etched lines like paired parentheses on either side of it. His hands were plump with short, stubby fingers. They were pale and looked soft. He wore a white shirt and a solid maroon tie and he had his shirt-sleeves rolled up. Something about him made me feel as though I must have done something wrong, and that my not knowing what it might be was no excuse at all.
"Mr. Scudder," he said. "I suppose you're the officer I spoke to over the telephone this morning. I can only repeat what I said earlier.
Mr.Prejanian has no information to make available to the police.
Anycriminous action which Mr.Broadfield may have performed is beyond the scope of this investigation and surely not in any way known to this office. We have not yet spoken to members of the press but will of course take the same tack with them. We will decline to comment and will stress that Mr.Broadfield had volunteered to make certain information available to us but that we had taken no action in respect to information furnished by him nor dowe anticipate so doing while Mr.Broadfield's
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