I’m already anticipating my lunch with Mr. Buchanan when I arrive at the Dominion the next morning. My first stop is the subbasement, because after seeing Paul at the Sixes yesterday, I’m more eager than ever to figure out this mystery. The mountain of Montey crates has been replaced with a similar but smaller stack of the same. I’m seeing the name everywhere I go, and my lack of knowledge is making me uncomfortable. I know construction. I know what should be where. Beyond that quick peek at the Sixes, I haven’t seen what’s in the boxes yet. I want to compare them to what I know, and I want to know why the standard hardware has been replaced. I have questions.
Now that the pile is smaller, I can see the mysterious door more clearly. Is it just storage, like Gary said? If so, why isn’t it in the blueprints? Smuggling, Mr. Buchanan tentatively suggested. I wonder.
Or maybe this door was simply installed recently and someone forgot to include it in the blueprint, but that’s doubtful. One of the most basic jobs of blueprints is to account for every door and every space behind. A building inspector has to know what’s going on behind the scenes of a building, so I’m justified in chasing this down. Still, I’m glad that no one else is here. Ishouldn’t worry, but I don’t want to answer any awkward questions. As the inspector, I’m within my rights to check it out, if only to make sure it’s safe. I head toward the door and, with a little effort, slide the crates out of the way.
The latch is old and tarnished, possibly from the 1970s, but it’s not dusty. Someone has been using it. The door opens easily, revealing a long, narrow storage room. I don’t see a light switch, so I flick on my phone’s light and shine it across all the boxes jammed within, and honestly, I’m not even surprised by what I see.MONTEY SERIES INDUSTRIES, they all say. The room is so narrow, the boxes barely fit.
“Miss Kelly?”
I twist around, startled. It’s Gary. He strides toward me, his expression apologetic, but resolute. With a firm grip, he pulls me out of the room, closes the door, then checks that it’s locked.
“I’m sorry, Miss Kelly. This has to stay shut.”
“Why? It’s just a storage room.”
“No one is allowed in there. It’s the rule.”
“Who made the rule?”
“The boss.”
This is getting painful. “Mr. Samson?” I guess.
“Uh, no… his boss.” He licks his lips nervously, but his arms are folded. “Listen, Miss Kelly, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to get in trouble.”
My curiosity is piqued. Besides, this is my job. “Do you have the paperwork for the Montey Series Industries deliveries from last night? I see the crates from yesterday are gone, but now there’s twice as much inventory, just smaller boxes.”
“I… I don’t.”
I smell a lie. “What’s going on? Of course you know.”
“This shipment came in last night, after I’d gone home, and…” He shrugs, basically nailing his coffin shut.
“This is ridiculous.” I punch a number on my phone. “Jack, this is Bridget.”
“Ah, Inspector,” he says, and I flinch. I hear so much plastic attitude coming through those veneers of his. “How are you on this beautiful day? I’m out around the city, hoping to pop by there in about an hour, so maybe we could meet up then? Buy you a coffee?”
“No time. Sorry. I want to know about this supplier, Montey.”
He fluffs around about Montey being a new company they’re trying out, but what I hear is that he’s uncomfortable with the topic.
“What am I missing?” I demand.
“Nothing, Bridge.”
I hate being called Bridge. Just inserting that little fact here. He must have picked that up from Claudia.
“I need information, Jack. Please send along the manifest as well as some information about this company. I smell something fishy.”
He exhales, long and dramatic. “You’re making a mountain out of nothing, Bridge. It’s nuts and bolts. Nothing more. It’s a new company out of China, offered us a great deal. We’re over on some of the reno budget this month, and this made sense. But trust me. There’s nothing wrong with the hardware.”
I hang up, frustrated. I donottrust him. I head to the plumbing area, which is next on my list. Nothing seems amiss there. I stop in front of Gary before I leave the subbasement, and I point behind me, indicating the now-locked door.
“Last chance. Is there anything I should know about this? Why can’t I inspect it?”
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing special about the hardware.”
“Then why’s it off-limits? I’m the inspector, Gary. If I find out you’re lying, you should know that I won’t hesitate to report you. You and Samson and whoever else.”
