The 'Cousins'

Part NIneteen: At What Price Premises?

Timeline: Thursday April 19th 2007. At the Town Hall, Bamptonville.

Greg pulled up on the parking lot outside the Town Hall, brushed himself down and fuelled by his new resolve, plus the energy of his breakfast, ran up the steps into the Town Hall entrance foyer.

The foyer gave into a long corridor that resembled a church with its high vaulted ceilings, flag stone floor and long, oblong windows with arched tops, resembling cathedral windows without the stained glass at its far end. Greg shuddered. He was not sure if it was caused because of the cool temperature inside or the dim, deathly atmosphere of this mausoleum of a place. There was nobody around and Greg walked along the corridor towards an arrowed sign pointing to a doorway that read 'RECEPTION.' His footfall on the flagstones echoed from the walls as he walked. Greg stood outside the heavy wooden door, a lump in his throat and his fist poised to knock. He swallowed and then rapped boldly three times on the door putting his ear to it to listen for a 'come in' from the other side. Instead the door swung open and he stepped back in surprise. A middle aged, petite lady with large, horn rimmed spectacles in a close fitting, black business dress that showed her well kept figure to advantage stood looking at him. She held her head on one side with a mischievous half-smile playing across her full mouth.

'Ohh!' Greg muttered in surprise and her smile became a pleasant chuckle as she said.

'Hello I am Miss Broeckner, the mayor's secretary. Can I take it you are Mr. Mitchell?' She held out her hand and her eyes sparkled, teasing him.

'Umm Yes, that's right, ' Greg stammered, taken unawares. His fingers went to fiddle with the tie he was not wearing. He shook her hand and felt its firm softness as he heard her friendly chuckle once more. Greg felt relaxed and rather silly at losing his composure by being non-plussed by the attractive Miss Broeckner.

'The mayor's expecting you Mr. Mitchell I'll take you right along.' He closely followed her to the far end of the corridor. The clip-clop of her high heels echoed around the cavern of a corridor drowning out the noise of his footsteps. Greg's eyes were glued to the gentle sway of Miss Broeckner's hips and the ripple of her buttocks under the fabric of her tight dress as she walked towards the long windows at the end of the corridor. She stopped and knocked on the last door on the right and put her ear to its panels. Greg could hear the throaty 'Come' from the other side as he stood behind the secretary, looking at her throat with its tiny gold chain and crucifix. She opened the door and stood aside with another coquettish smile.

'You can go inside now Mr. Mitchell. Can I bring you some coffee?'

'Uhh No thanks, I've just had breakfast.' Greg was still discomfited by this alluring woman and she knew it. She flicked her eyelids at him as she stepped back and said 'I see.'

Greg walked open mouthed into the large room with its walls decked with flags, bookshelves, pictures and Native American souvenirs.

Harvey Denton sat behind a huge oak desk in the far corner of the room that was brightly lit from the natural light streaming in through the double French windows forming the outside wall of his office. Harvey was vigorously packing a large, curved Meerschaum pipe from a tin of Half and Half tobacco. The dulled and blackened bowl with its discoloured and chewed mouthpiece spoke of long usage.

'Mr. Mitchell, come in, come in' The mayor waved him in with his free hand and flashed a broad smile of welcome.

Greg stood and pointed at the closed door.

'Good Morning Mr. Mayor! - pardon me, but that is one very appealing lady.'

Denton laughed as he stood up and came around to the front of the desk, his pipe in one hand and the other outstretched towards Greg.