Chapter 6

  Twenty stories above Midtown, Manhattan were the offices of Fellows and Son's Advertising. The companies offices were spread out across the top five floors of a modern steel and glass high rise, its interior made of just as much steel and glass with equal parts aluminum. Douglas thought that the inside felt like a cooking foil container. Ironically enough one of the first posters they were met with was for Alcoa.

  It was just past three thirty in the afternoon when Douglas and Jim found themselves waiting in the lobby of the Fellows and Son's office. When they had first arrived that had spoken with the receptionist and identified themselves and their purpose for being there, since then they had been waiting fifteen minutes for Aleister Fellows.

  “Detectives, apologies for the delay. Business being business and all. How may I help the fine defenders of this city?” His English accent mixed with undertones of New York.

  “Good Afternoon. My name is Detective Chambers and this is my partner Detective Swinger. We have a few questions about one of your employees, if you have somewhere more private.” Douglas and Jim flashed their badges at the slight man in the bespoke suit.

  “Oh by all means! Follow me.”

  The three men walked down one of the arterial hallways to a large empty conference room. Taking a seat at the table Aleister asked, “Now you mentioned asked about one of our employees here. Who would that be?”

  Douglas and Jim each took a seat across the dark stained pine table. “What can you tell us about Maxwell Stillwater?”

  “Maxwell? That chap is one of the reasons I am still in business!” Aleister slapped his hand on the table. “Hell, just yesterday he secured himself a promotion. Why do you have questions about him?”

  “He is currently part of an investigation and we are just doing our due diligence. Do you know where he went after work yesterday?” Douglas once again took the lead in this interview.

  “Oh heavens no, I know that several of the younger copywriters were going out to celebrate the contract but I did not go with them. My bar hopping days are very far behind me. I assume that Maxwell went out with them. If I remember correctly it was Vincent Peabody who had organized the celebration.”

  “Is Mr. Peabody here today?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Aleister Fellows looked out from the glass window wall down the hallway, he snapped his fingers and pointed. “His office is right down there hall, there on the left. I know he was here earlier today. Is Maxwell in any trouble?” Aleister's body shuffled in his seat, clearly nervous.

  “Your golden boy is starting to look a little tarnished. Do you know anything about his life outside of the office?” Jim intercepted the question before Douglas could answer.

  Aleister seemed taken aback by the sudden change of questioner, “I have met his wife, she has been to a few of the office parties and I attended their wedding. What exactly do you mean by tarnished?”

  “Have you ever seen him as a lady's man?” Jim was not going to answer anymore of this stuff shirts questions, he determined.

  “I really would know nothing about that, my relationship with Maxwell was purely professional.” Aleister said with his nose and chin held up high.

  “I think that is all the questions we have for you Mr. Fellows. If you don't mind we are going to see if Mr. Peabody is here, also would we be able to look at Maxwell's office?”

  “Certainly, His office is right next to Vincent's.”

  Douglas and Jim got to their feet followed by Aleister, “We thank you for your time Mr. Fellows.” Douglas said as he made his way to the door.

  After taking the quick walk down the hall Douglas and Jim were standing outside of the door labeled, “Maxwell P. Stillwater”. The inside of the office was very plain in contrast to what the Stillwater home looked like. There was a desk, a small table, a radio, a couple of chair and a chaise. “I guess Mrs. Stillwater is the decorator at home.” Jim said as they walked in.

  “I gotta agree with you there Jim. Not a whole lot for us to look at in here.” Douglas said as he started flipping through the Rolodex on the desk. It was full of client names for a dozen different companies all over the city. “Damn it.”

  “What ya find Doug?” Jim asked walking away from the small bar cart that was in the corner.

  “Look at who's number is in here.” Douglas pointed down to the small yellow card, a chagrin look on his face.

  “Grace?” Jim said before he saw the cart, “Shit.”

  Both of the hardened New York City Detectives were both dismayed with what they had just read. Printed in a flowing hand on the small yellow card was the name of one of the prominent law firms in the tri-state area. Ross, Greene, and Baker.

  “He still there Doug?” Jim asked his partner.

  Before Douglas Chambers could answer there came a knock from the door. Standing in the doorway was a thin man with a razor thin mustache. “May I help you with something?”

  “Police business. Who are you?” Douglas's tone must harsher than it had been earlier in the day.

  Without any warning the thin man with the thin mustache turned and ran down the hallway.