The Collectors

Chapter 12

"Mm-hmm. Not that that matters so much but it's the relationship he has with Ted that—"

"TED!" Malcom's face expanded almost as large as his shout. "Ted Palliser and Hardy!"

"We didn't want to say anything because we knew what Ted meant to you but in the interest of the company's image it probably should be addressed."

"Ted Palliser?"

Connie knew she had him hooked and she fleshed out her description about Hardy and his behaviour to the point that Malcom was ready to call the hospital and fire him immediately.

"He is good at his job though, Malcom," she said. "Firing him would be a waste of that skill. All he really needs is a good lesson... like losing his seniority, that would send the proper message." She closed the space between them and Malcom gulped.

His secretary's voice popped out of the intercom and Malcom recovered his focus as she advised him that there was a Sydney Court waiting to speak with him.

"Who?"

"The young man you had in earlier... about Miss Lakefield."

"Aaah, right. Send him in." He made a helpless shrug for Connie and said he'd think about her request. She grew very still and in a low, hard voice told him she would be very disappointed if he failed to act on her suggestion. She strutted to the door and stood back as Sydney entered. Their eyes met and both recognized something in each of them, then she was gone.

Malcom was tripping over his jaw as Sydney came to the front of his desk. Hardy Pinkerton and Ted Palliser! How could he have not known?

"Hi, I uh- I came for the money you promised me." Sydney broke into his daze.

"Huh? Money?" Malcom's eyes snapped into focus at the mention of money and he cleared his throat magisterially.

"Sydney is it? How can I help you?"

"I believe I helped you, sir. I did find Miss Lakefield for you as asked."

"Right, right. You did?"

"Yessir, she's at the Armbridge Hotel with her friend from the junk store and the three Russians. You spoke to her, remember?"

Malcom stared blankly at the young man. "Is she- is she alright?"

"She was when I left. I don't think she's in any real trouble... inconvenient I'd call it."

"And now what is it you want?" He pictured Holly vowing to gut him for tossing her to the Russian wolves.

"And now I'd like the money you offered. The five thousand."

A barked laugh. "Five thousand? I said I'd give you five thousand? I don't think so, young man." Once again the mention of money centred Malcom's focus.

"Wait a minute, pal. That was the deal. You were frantic about her whereabouts and you made me that offer. I found her for you now I want my money."

Malcom saw the young man begin to turn red and his neck muscles flex and he quickly pressed his security button under the desk with his foot. "Take it easy now. Let's talk about this rationally."

"I want—my—money."

The office door flew open and Connie stood, legs apart and a gun held out in the two-handed manner, face high. "Freeze!" Sydney gawked at the woman he'd just seen and mouthed a profanity in surprise. "Down on your knees with your hands on your head."

"What?"

"You heard, perp."

Perp? Was she for real? "Look," he began, "I have legitimate business with this guy."