Free American Crow by Jack Lacey

administrative book as if she were
looking for a name.
    ‘Walter is a friend of a friend of mine
back in England. Hopefully he’ll be aware that I’m coming,’ I said brightly,
trying to gain more of her attention.    
    She tweaked a perfunctory smile, turned
and pressed a button on her phone. I sighed and waited for Walter to come
online, beginning to feel annoyed at her prickliness.
    ‘Yea…’ I could hear a laconic voice
answer on the other end of the phone.
    ‘There is a mister...’
    ‘Blake,’ I said alternating from heel to
toe, anxious to get on with the task at hand.
    ‘A Mr Blake to see you, sir, from
England. Are you expecting him?’ she said, glancing up stern-faced.
    ‘Who?’ Finch said.
    ‘There’s a man here, who says he...’
    I leant over the desk at the limit of my
patience and pressed the speaker button so that he could hear me.
    ‘It’s the guy from England, trying to
find Olivia. Henry hopefully told you I was coming over, or someone did. We
need to talk...’
    ‘Err right, okay...come on up,’ he said,
sounding surprised.
    I left the receptionist to her look of
disgust then wandered up the three winding flights of chrome and glass steps to
the offices, where I quickly found a door with Finch’s name on it. I knocked once
and entered, then pulled up a fancy purple chair opposite and took him in.
    The guy before me was tall, bald and
bespectacled and looked seriously academic, the sort that drove a practical,
no-thrills car and had a practical no-thrills wife. He extended a limp hand and
smiled politely, his features tinged with a tangible anxiety. I reciprocated
the smile and tried to make it look genuine.    
    ‘Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr
Blake. Henry did ring to say that someone else was going to make an appearance,
but I plain forgot. I’m sorry. It’s just a little hectic around here at the
moment as we’re changing exhibitions, and it does tend to be all consuming. How
can I help?’ he said forcing another uncomfortable smile.
    I looked him straight in the eye.
    ‘Well, have you had any contact?’
    ‘From Olivia?’
    ‘Yes...’ I said trying to suppress my air
of exasperation.
    ‘No, not since she vanished five or six
weeks ago, along with Ethan.’
    ‘And, who is this boy?’ I asked, playing
ignorant so that I could get Walter’s personal take on the situation.
    ‘He’s my nephew I’m ashamed to say. He
used to work in the cafe downstairs. They were here around the same time. She
got involved with him romantically I believe, then disappeared together a month
or so later.’ 
    ‘Do you have his address?’
    ‘Errr...maybe...’
    He swivelled around in his chair and
tapped some keys on his computer. A few seconds later a printer whirred
somewhere in the corner.
    ‘And what about your sister? Have you
spoken to her recently?’ I pressed, feeling like I was wading through mud. ‘Has
she had any contact with either of them? Olivia was staying at her place,
right?’
    ‘I spoke to Chrissie around two or three
weeks ago. She said that she hadn’t heard from the girl, and would call if
there was any news.’
    ‘Can I give her a ring?’
    ‘Sure. You can go around to her house if
you like too. It’s just five minutes’ drive away over in Cooper.’
    I felt like Finch was keen to get me out
of his office, that I unsettled him somehow. Maybe I looked too much like his
nephew and that ‘sort’. Maybe he was threatened by it. After all, he was that
beige-sort-of-guy, the safe sort who probably liked to have his life organized
into neat little boxes, though the abstract painting behind him made me think
that he had another side. The image appeared to resemble some frantic sexual
liaison, that didn’t appear wholly consensual…
    Finch got up and walked over to the
printer, pulled out the resulting page and scribbled some addresses and numbers
on it.
    ‘Is there anything else?’ he said, his hand
shaking as he handed it over.
    ‘Yea, can you