Free A Shared Confidence by William Topek Page B

notes about what I’d need to go over with my secretary and one of my operatives before I left. I went to bed early, read some more of my book, and put out the light.
    I was sitting at my desk at ten the next morning when I heard a knock and the door opened. A tall young man in a pea coat and cloth cap stood in the doorway, a lazy smile on his face.
    â€œMorning, boss,” he said.
    â€œWhat say, Jennings?” I smiled back. “Come take a pew. How’s the leg?”
    He pushed air out through slack lips. “It’s fine, Mr. Caine.”
    â€œGlad to hear it.”
    Brad Jennings had been working for me for close to a year now. He’s one of the most resourceful young men I’ve ever come across, and I have yet to give him something he can’t handle. I tried not to let on how carefully I was watching him as he walked over to the empty chair in front of my desk. Last October, Jennings got himself thrown out of a four-story window doing some work for me, yet for some reason he still wanted to remain in my employ. He’d been without the cane for months now, and try as I might, I couldn’t detect even a trace of the limp he’d had for so long. Oh, to have the healing powers of a twenty-four-year-old, I thought.
    â€œGot anything special going on the rest of this week?” I asked.
    â€œNothing I can’t get out of,” he said, his gray-green eyes coming alight under lazy lids.
    â€œI have to leave town for a few days,” I explained. “How’d you like to watch the office for me?”
    â€œSure thing,” he said, poking a lock of straw-blonde hair back up under his cap. “What do you want me to do?”
    â€œMostly it involves showing up here in a suit and tie and sitting behind this desk. Introduce yourself to clients as my junior associate, listen to their problems, write down the particulars, tell them I’ll get back to them in a few days, and stay out of the liquor cabinet.”
    â€œNo sweat,” he grinned. “You keep the good stuff in the safe anyway.”
    â€œIf it gets too slow, I have a few things you can run down for me.” I went over my notes and threw him some details, which he wrote down in a small notebook he’d taken to carrying. “Just be sure to let Gail know where you’re going and when you’ll be back. You can use my car if you want,” I fished out my keys and dropped them on the desk, “but remember, it’s for business, not joy-riding. Can do?”
    â€œYou know it,” he assured me, picking up the keys.
    â€œGail will know where I can be reached if anything comes up. I expect to be back by next Monday at the latest. And speaking of Gail,” I nodded toward the closed door to the outer office, “she’s a terrific secretary, best I’ve ever had. She likes it here. She better still be here and still liking it when I get back.” Jennings is a sharp kid and a good one, but he’s young, and the last thing I needed was him putting Gail off by trying to boss her around or cozy up to her or something.
    â€œSure thing, Mr. Caine,” Jennings said, his face serious. “I hear you.”
    â€œGood man.” We settled on a daily fee. There was no need to shake on it; he trusted me.
    I grabbed an early lunch – a bowl of soup and a sandwich at the diner I’d taken Ryland to last week – then headed back to my office to pick up my suitcase. Just before heading out the door, I paused and opened the lower right-hand drawer of my desk. Two guns were inside: a .45 and a Colt .32 I sometimes carry, both automatics. Did I really need a gun for this trip? I doubted it, but I tend to look on guns like umbrellas: the surest way not to need one is to have it with you. I favored the Colt. In fact, I’d picked this one up to replace the same model I’d had to ditch last year. I placed in my suitcase and fastened the snaps.
    I said farewell to