“What?”

Kelly Blaine stuck out her chin. “I resent that. You sit there taking a high moral tone. What do you make-two, three hundred bucks an hour? You know what I make as a typist? Ten to fifteen. For this job I got paid a hundred bucks an hour. It was work and I took it. If you want to sit there being high and mighty, making moral judgments, well, I know whose side you’re on, I might as well leave. The fact is, I took the job. You really want me to justify why?”

Steve held up his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But you must admit, this whole thing is very unusual. I’m a human being. I’m naturally curious and I’m trying to understand the situation. Which, frankly, isn’t easy.” Steve smiled. “We have a peculiar situation here. You’re touchy, embarrassed and defensive on the one hand. I’m intrigued, embarrassed and tentative on the other. We’re both of us walking on eggshells. As a result, we’re getting absolutely nowhere. So, let’s try to set that aside and discuss this as if it were a normal, ordinary business deal, okay?”

“Fine.”

“At any rate, you agreed to this employment?”

“Yes.”

“When did you start work?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“You’ve been working there for two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Same routine every day?”

“Yes.”

“And you never saw your boss, this Castleton fellow?”

“No.”

“How did you get the job?”

“I answered an ad.”

“What ad?”

“In the New York Times.”

“They advertised this in the Times?”

“Yes.”

“As what?”

“Under ‘Help wanted, female.’”

It was with an effort that Steve suppressed a grin. “Did the ad specify the requirements of the job?”

“No.”

“Or the rate of pay?”

“No. It just said, ‘salary negotiable.’”

“So you answered the ad and what happened?”

“I went for an interview.”

“Who was the interview with?”

“Phil Danby.”

“Where was it?”

“There. At the apartment.”

“You didn’t see Castleton then?”

“No. As I said, I’ve never seen him.”

“So what happened?”

“Danby explained the requirements of the job.”

“And you took it?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” Steve said. “That was two weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

“You started work immediately?”

“The next day.”

“Did you have a contract?”

“Contract?”

“Yes. A written contract. With the terms of your employment.”

“No.”

“How were you paid?”

“In cash.”

“You trusted him to pay cash?”

She shook her head. “No. It was in advance.”

“Paid how?”

“On a daily basis. When I’d get to work in the morning there’d be an envelope on my desk with my name on it. In it would be my wages for the day.”

“Which was?”

“Eight hundred dollars. A hundred bucks an hour for eight hours.”

“Then you were fired?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“I told you. Today. Just before I came here.”

“Were you paid for today?”

“Yes, of course. Or I wouldn’t have started typing. I came in this morning as usual. The envelope was on my desk. I took the money, put it in my purse. Then I went to work.”

“And what happened?”

“I was sitting at my desk, typing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the door opening.”

“I thought it was locked.”

“It was. But of course they had the key. Stupid, but I never thought of that. I mean, I’d locked the door, no one had ever tried to open it-I thought, fine, the door’s locked. But of course you can open it from the outside with a key.”

“And someone did?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Phil Danby.”

“This ever happen before?”

“No. Never.”

“So what happened?”

“I looked up and the door was opening. I hadn’t heard it. I hadn’t heard the click of the lock because I had my ear phones on, transcribing.”

“What did you do?”

“I was shocked. Terrified. I ripped the headset off, scrunched down at the desk behind my typewriter. Tried to cover myself. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.”

“Go on.”

“The door opened and Phil Danby came in. I couldn’t believe it. I screamed at him, ‘Hey, get out of here!’”

“What did he do?”

“He acted like he hadn’t heard me. He just stood there a moment, then he turned and closed the door.”

“Then what?”

“I screamed at him again. But he just stood there. Then he smiled. The most smug, horrible smile. Then he walked over toward the desk.”

“What did you do?”

“I felt helpless. I couldn’t just sit there, but I didn’t want to get up either. I was horrified, embarrassed. I was

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