Chapter 18. Jack tried telephoning Roger Mayfield first, which I told him was a waste of time,

but he argued that Mayfield was still his employer and was the closest thing that either of us had

to a reason to pursue this case beyond the motivated self-interest of not wanting to be stuck in the

middle of an open murder investigation and a general desire not to look like a pair of public jackasses.

It was an interesting point.

Interesting but futile.

When he called from the drugstore, Jack was told that Mr. Mayfield was in a meeting and would he please try again later.

By the time he got to the pay phones in the lobby at City Hall, Mr. Mayfield was out of the

office and would be for the rest of the day.

Jack said the response was frosty, rapid fire, and came the moment that he had said his name.

Word had clearly gone out that Jack Justice was persona non grata, which sounded about right. We checked the directory for the city planner's office and headed up the elevator to the fourth.

The hope was that by moving quickly, the girl at the desk would never associate the visitors

with the man who called a moment ago.

I hoped this argument held because the building was full of cops and Miss Dixon had seen

about enough of them lately.

I took the lead when we walked in the office. There was a central reception desk and a small maze of office doors beyond.

Mayfield didn't even have his own secretary. How important could this guy be?

I smiled my polite but not dazzling smile. There was no need to dazzle to help. Indeed, it would only attract

the wrong kind of attention. Can I help you? The woman asked me with a tight, forced civil

service smile. I wonder if I could speak to Roger Mayfield, please, I asked. She eyed me suspiciously

for a moment. Do you have an appointment? She asked. Oh no, I'm sorry. I just popped

in. Is that terrible? I smiled again. His wife Anne and I went to school together and I just wanted

...