Tape 2

Doug was verifying the amount on some order: “Two cases next week, yes sir, I’ll have it there. Yes, I guarantee it; I’ll bring it myself.” He hung up the old black rotary phone he still used and scribbled some notes, just to have the phone ring again. At least one of us was getting some calls. “Doug December, Health Corp Sales, how can I help you?”

I turned away and went to hang up my hat and coat. They were soaked through like somebody had turned the hose on me. I should really move away from this damn city and its rain that pours like it’s being paid by the hour. To top it off, it seemed the radiator on my side of the office was out. “Sorry, Phil, I tried to turn it on this morning, but it looks like she finally broke,” Doug called out, holding his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. Before I could reply, Doug glanced at the soaked trenchcoat in my hands and gestured to the coat rack next to the steaming radiator on his side of the room as he went back to his call: “Now the new model is a real step up. It’s got titanium bearings. It’s lightweight and we guarantee the part for 20 years.”

I sighed and made my way over to the far wall on Doug’s side of the office, leaving large drops of water behind me. His boxes of medical equipment were stacked waist-high. Must be getting ready for a big delivery. I stepped over another box the size of a small terrier and started to hang up my coat when I saw something funny. Not “ha-ha” funny, but strange. Sticking up out of Doug’s perfectly dry coat pocket was a plane ticket. I could see the departure date, and it was for the next day. Hadn’t I heard him say he was making a delivery next week? Well, maybe it was another short business trip and he’d come back in time. It wasn’t my business.

Okay, I’m taking a smoke break. I’ll get back to this case later.