Page 25 of The Burnt
Charlie said, “While you’re having lunch, I’ll pull the job posting I put up this morning.”
Declan said, “Fantastic.”
As they turned to go, Charlie asked, “You will take me seriously, won’t you, Mrs B?”
She laughed. “I never took Declan seriously. Why should I treat you any differently? Now I expect these piles of paper to be filed before I come in on Monday.”
She held out her arm to Declan and they made their way down the stairs and out of the building.
Chapter Ten
Charlie wandered into Declan’s office and relaxed back into his chair, imagining what it would be like to have his very own space. He had just put his feet up on the desk when the door alarm chirped. Charlie quickly stood and stepped out into the main room. The door opened and a distinguished older man entered. He was in his late sixties, and dressed in a yellow puffy parka. He was about Charlie’s height, was very well groomed and had misty grey eyes a shade darker than his hair. His appearance gave him an air of authority.
“May I help you?” Charlie asked.
“Some oxygen, if you’ve got it. Those stairs just about did me in.”
“Please,” Charlie said, “have a seat.” He gestured toward the couch, then realised that the coffee table and floor still had piles of paper on them. “Sorry, we’re just in the middle of reorganising the files. Perhaps you would be more comfortable in the office.”
“That would be fine.”
Charlie led the man into Declan’s office, taking a seat behind the desk.
The man unzipped his coat and put it over the back of the other chair.
“Now,” the man said as he sat down, “I have to apologise for not making an appointment, but I was in town for a doctor’s visit and I thought, ‘What the hell, give it a shot and see if anyone’s at home.’”
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, “but if you’re here to see Declan Hunt, he’s not in at the moment.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Oh. How foolish of me. I am so sorry. I should have realised that you’re not, I mean you don’t look…”
“Rugged enough?” Charlie offered.
The man rose and reached for his coat.
“Wait. Maybe I can help. I’m Mr Hunt’s assistant, Charlie Watts.” Charlie extended his hand. The gentleman shook it.
Charlie continued, “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the market for a private investigator?”
The man nodded. “I am indeed.”
“Well, I often handle intake interviews for the firm,” Charlie said. “If you feel comfortable enough, and since you’re here, you can tell me about your concerns and I can produce a summary report for Declan. I’ll see that he gets it when he returns.”
The man settled back into his chair.
“Yes. Foolish of me not to make an appointment. I just thought… Well, Mr Hunt came highly recommended, so I don’t imagine he would have hired a fool as an assistant. Where shall I begin?”
“Let’s start with your name, address and a contact number. I’ll fill out a preliminary non-disclosure agreement. That way, you can be assured that whatever you say is confidential from this meeting onward, whether we take your case or not.”
The man smiled. “I like the way you work. All right, let’s do this. My name is Simon Griffin. I live at—oh here…” He pulled out his wallet and produced a business card. “My address in Banff, and my home and cell numbers are all there for you.”
Charlie had never met anyone who actually lived in Banff.
He must have money.
Charlie wrote out the pertinent information on the non-disclosure agreement, signed it then had Mr Griffin sign. Aftermaking a copy, Charlie pulled out his notepad and began, “Now, Mr Griffin, how can I help you?”
“I want you to find my son, Milo.”
