Chapter 19 of Through different Eyes has been posted. The story is approaching the end - one more chapter and an epilogue to go.
Once again, thanks for reading and voting for this story.
I found a café and had a coffee to settle myself. Sitting there, I racked my brain trying to think of some other way to find Willi. An hour later, I walked up the stairs beside a greengrocer in Wood Green. Several office doors lead off the landing; one proclaimed itself to be “Wallis Investigations”.
I knocked – without reply, but the door opened when I tried it. I found a desk with a typewriter and another door, through which I could hear an indistinct voice.
Someone on the phone?
A minute later the door opened to reveal a fair-haired man with an open and innocent face. He was in his early thirties.
He blinked. “Ah – right.” He waved at the desk and typewriter. “Let’s see if you can do better than the last one.”
I gave him a blank look. “Sorry?”
“You’re here about the secretary job – although I asked for an older woman, not some wet-behind-the-ears dolly bird.” He sniffed. “Well, sit down and I’ll give you some dictation.”
I smiled at him. “Mr Wallis, I think we are at cross-purposes. I’m not looking for a job.”
He blinked. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not.” I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m thinking of hiring you to do some work for me.”
He blinked again, his fair complexion showing a faint blush. “Er … sorry.” He gestured to his open office door. “Um … please come in.”
He directed me to one of a pair of chairs beside a low table. “How can I help you … er, Miss?”
“Miss Miller. I’m trying to find someone I’ve lost touch with.”
He reached round to his desk, grabbing a spiral notebook and biro off the blotter. “Go on.”
“He’s a young man, my age and probably studying physics at university somewhere in England, but we’ve been out of touch for several years.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been in Australia.”
“I see. Please go on.”
“Before we go further, I need to find out if you can do this sort of work.
He gave me a confused look.
“Please tell me about your organisation.” I looked towards the empty outer office.
He looked at me for a few seconds. “It’s only me at present – but as you know, I’m trying to hire a secretary.” An embarrassed smile flitted across his face.
“How much experience do you have?”
“Oh – I have lots of investigative experience … with the Met.”
“The Met?”
“The Metropolitan Police. I left them last month to set up my business.”
This sounded fishy.
“When you say left, were you sacked?”
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Iskander
(Robert Hart)