Free Lucifer's Weekend (Digger) by Warren Murphy Page B

She had enough teeth to make a piano jealous, and Digger wondered if exercise could make teeth bigger because she exercised hers with gum that she snapped as she spoke.
    The nameplate on her desk said MISS BUFFET. She was eating with a plastic spoon from a container of yogurt.
    "Yeah?" she said to Digger.
    "All out of curds and whey?" he said.
    "Huh?"
    "Never mind. Do you have a guy working here named Vernon Gillette?"
    "Sorry, you’re out of luck. He died."
    "Ohhhh. And I came all this way from Katmandu just to see him. Do you mind if I sit down for a moment? This is an awful shock."
    "That far, huh? Well, I’m sorry, but he’s dead."
    "How’d he die? Did the liquor finally get him? Some husband, I bet. Some woman’s husband finally caught up with him and plugged him," Digger said.
    "We talking about the same guy?" she said. Snap, snap went the gum. "Vernon Gillette? Nah, he had an accident. Got electrocuted."
    "I told him and I told him not to try to change light bulbs by himself," Digger said. "No one ever listens to somebody who’s trying to give them good advice."
    "You’re right, you know," Miss Teeth said.
    Digger nodded. "I could tell right off," he said, "that you’re the kind of person who’d understand that. Who just wants to help."
    She shrugged. Snap, snap. "You have to try, right?"
    "Maybe you can help me," Digger said, and instantly the woman’s face grew suspicious.
    "I’d like to talk to his boss," Digger said.
    "Why?"
    "I want to know if he said anything about me in his final days. Something I can treasure on my way back to Katmandu. Vernon was my brother, you know."
    "Oh. Oh. I didn’t know that. I’m really sorry. His boss would be Mr. Spears. He’s the head of the planning department. He’s in the next building over." She jerked her thumb over her left shoulder. "Just walk over."
    Digger stood. "I’ll never forget you, Miss Muffet."
    "Buffet," she said.
    "And then wax it," Digger said as he left.

    "Mr. Spears, please. I was sent over by little Miss Buffet in personnel."
    "Your name, please?" The secretary was middle-aged and businesslike. Maybe that was one of the good things, Digger thought, about a business having a seventy-year-old owner. Secretaries were hired because they could secrett, not because they could adorn chairs. And couches.
    "Julian Burroughs," Digger said.
    "Have a seat, please. You’ll have to wait."
    The office was small and Digger saw there was no ashtray on the secretary’s desk, so he lit a cigarette and blew smoke in her direction, going by what he regarded as the admirable theory that everyone tried to get rid of an obnoxious pest quickly.
    After thirty seconds she coughed and after sixty she said, "You can go right in."
    Ben Spears was a burly man with a football player’s thick neck, displayed in a tieless open-collared shirt. His suit jacket hung on a clothes rack in the corner of the big office. The man’s shirt sleeves were rolled up and his thick forearms were matted with dark hair. His desk was cluttered with books, folders and rolled-up sets of blueprints.
    He looked up as Digger entered, then, without much interest, said, "Name?"
    "Julian Burroughs. I’m with Brokers Surety Life Insurance."
    "I don’t want any insurance," Spears said, annoyance in his tone. "I thought personnel sent you over. I’m expecting someone from personnel. Are you a planner?"
    "More of a conniver actually," Digger said.
    "You’re not here to discuss a job?"
    "No," Digger said. "But if you’re looking for work, I can put a word in with my boss. We’re a big company. Better yet, call him directly. Walter Brackler. You want his number?"
    "I don’t want a job," Spears said. "I’ve got a job. I’m looking for help."
    "So few people are willing to help nowadays," Digger said.
    Spears’s face wrinkled up with puzzlement. "Are you crazy?" he finally said. "You sound like you’re crazy."
    "No, I’m not crazy," Digger said. "My company had a life insurance policy on Vernon