Free Wings in the Dark by Michael Murphy

manicure kit. He handed me what I needed, a thin nail file.
    I noticed his manicured nails for the first time.
    “What?” Billy’s face took on a blank expression.
    I ignored the question and slipped the file into the lock. The tumbler gave a satisfying click. I opened the door and bowed toward Laura, then dropped the file in my trouser pocket in case I encountered any more locks.
    “Isn’t he wonderful?” Laura asked Billy. “He’s also an accomplished pickpocket.”
    Billy smiled for the first time since we left the hangar. “You must be very proud.”
    I poked my head inside, then entered and let the others into the small outer office of Kalua Enterprises. “Don’t turn on the lights.”
    The corridor light illuminated a wooden desk with a brass spittoon I hoped the receptionist used as a trash can. A brass coatrack stood beside the door. A shiny brass lamp sat in the center of a table littered with magazines. The man had a lot of brass.
    Billy took off his cap and wiped his damp brow. “You have any more gum?”
    I pulled the pack of Wrigley’s from my pocket and tossed it to him.
    “Thanks. Chewing gum keeps my asthma from taking over when I’m nervous.”
    “Don’t be so jumpy.” I searched through the top drawer of the reception desk.
    “If there’s nothing to be worried about, why are we prowling around in the dark?”
    Billy stuffed two sticks into his mouth and chewed, then stuffed the gum wrappers into his trouser pocket. “What are you looking for?”
    “A flashlight.” I slid the drawer closed and tried the next one.
    Billy snickered. “You really think a receptionist keeps a flashlight in her desk?”
    I pulled one from the desk and aimed it at Billy’s face, then swept the beam toward an open door at the end of the lobby. We followed the light and entered a room crammed with more than a dozen desks, each with a covered typewriter and notepad, but no personal items. The place was spotless and about as warm and inviting as a museum of crystal plates.
    I shined the beam around the room, searching for Kalua’s office—a corner one, no doubt.
    As we crossed the room, Laura shook her head. “What’s so special about this place that Kalua would invite Amelia and George here?”
    I still held special memories of the office in Queens where I grew my detective agency and earned a reputation with authorities and tough guys. Maybe Kalua felt the same about the place where he built his empire.
    Billy shrugged. “He called Mr. Putnam a week ago and invited them to lunch at a swanky beachfront restaurant. I heard that later, he had a couple drinks too many, started talking about the good old days, and explained he wanted to show them where he got his start and expanded his business empire.”
    Laura nodded toward a closed door in the corner. “That must be Kalua’s office. Have you ever seen anything like that door?”
    Not in an office. The window was stained glass, something that belonged in a church. Two knights with crosses on their armor, one riding a black stallion, the other a white horse. The two men were on a quest of some kind. Kalua had been religious or he enjoyed quests.
    A secretary’s desk sat outside the door. While the desks of the typists and bookkeepers were sparse, the secretary kept a few personal items on display, including a picture of a young boy and presumably herself, a pretty Hawaiian dish with long dark hair.
    Laura slipped behind the desk and eased into the chair. “If you want to know about a person, find his wife’s secrets, or his secretary’s.”
    “Billy’s a secretary. Why don’t you stay here with Laura?”
    The kid snorted. “I’m not that kind of secretary.”
    “Then follow me.” I tried the door to Kalua’s office. Locked, of course.
    Billy held the flashlight while I slipped the file from my pocket and inserted it in the lock. Seconds later, the tumbler turned. I blew on the ends of my fingertips. “It’s all in the touch.”
    Laura took the