Mysteries Unlimited Ltd.. Donald Ph.D. Ladew

Mysteries Unlimited Ltd. - Donald Ph.D. Ladew


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young woman of such stunning beauty he lost his footing and stumbled into a rose bush by the front steps.

      He attempted to say something, anything, but it came out like a tape machine running backward. Verbal dyslexia.

      She said her name was Charlie Lee and volunteered that she was the bosses daughter, that she sort of ran things while her father was away.

      Her smile was open and generous. William was in love before he reached the first step.

      ‘Hire me!’ He was wondering how much he’d have to pay to work there.

      Still incoherent, he followed her through a rather grand foyer, then left into a sunny, high-ceilinged office. On the door was a sign the said, CHARLIE LEE - LITTLE BOSS.

      At her door he burst out laughing, louder and louder until his stomach hurt. He tried to apologize.

      “I’m sorry, Miss Lee,” he gasped. “When I get anxious, I have this stupid reaction.” He tried to get his breath.

      She looked at William with one classic eyebrow raised and an enigmatic smile.

      “It was back there,” he pointed toward the front of the building, “you know, back there when I was falling in the rose bushes, I fell in love, but I didn’t realize it! That is,” her smile was much broader, “I wasn’t myself. Damn, that’s not precisely what I mean. Comprehending you was too much input, there wasn’t room for output, for anything.”

      Her smile became a grin. “If this is some new employment gambit, I think I like it.”

      “I thought I already had the job?” William looked alarmed. “Oh, Christ, I’ve blown it, haven’t I.”

      “No. You have the job, but I’m supposed to tell you what we do and how we do it.”

      She went over to her desk and sat down, as graceful as a ballerina, then pointed to a chair to one side.

      “Would it be alright if we do the interview now?” she asked.

      “Of course.”

      He didn’t tell her he was prepared to work for nothing. Some semblance of sanity had returned.

      She looked at him closely. “Are you paying attention, Mr. Tallboys?”

      William wondered if it was possible for all the blood in his body to reside in his head at once.

      “Er..ah...absolutely!” His voice rose out of control.

      She looked doubtful. “All right, if you’re sure.” She paused.

      “Generally, we solve mysteries. Specifically, we answer questions for money. Most of the time the questions are harmless. Occasionally,” her elegant eyebrows arched gracefully, “they lead to places where questions are unwelcome, even dangerous. Would you like a few examples?”

      “Absolutely!” Fixated on her voice, his answer was still too loud. She looked startled.

      William was as emotional as an aficionado at Horowitz’s last concert. He couldn’t bear the idea of the music coming to an end.

      Her expression clearly said she wasn’t sure if his wrapping hadn’t come loose.

      William tried to look attentive.

      God knows what he really looked like. Joseph Smith finding the silver tablets? Einstein writing his famous equation? A gourmand with a years free pass to Tour D’Argent? He hoped she didn’t get the wrong idea.

      William thought he really was a very ordinary fellow. He wasn’t.

      She decided to go on. “Let’s see, innocent.”

      She was so filled with the blithe spirit she hummed a little tune while she gathered her mental notes.

      “Here’s one. A caller recently asked if George Washington really had false teeth made of wood.”

      “Wow! Did he?”

      She laughed. “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Jenkins, or Baby Ruth, or Mr. Pillsbury. They’re our resident experts at that sort of thing.”

      William snorted in disbelief. “Not possible! I asked Jenkins a question an hour ago and never got close to an answer.”

      “You asked him about my father didn’t you?” She was defensive.

      “Yes, I did. How did you know?”

      “It’s the only thing Jenkins won’t talk about. My father did something for him, years ago; got him out of trouble. Mr. Jenkins hasn’t forgotten. He’s very loyal.”

      “Nothing wrong with that.”

      “No, there isn’t”

      She was humming again. She swiveled around in her chair, and that set her auburn hair to dancing around her shoulders.

      “Getting back to innocent. We handle hundreds of that type question every week, each at a minimum charge of fifty dollars. It’s our bread and butter. All such questions and answers are recorded and a report generated which is then sent to the requester. That way if they forget, they can just look at the letter or email. Our customers really like that.

      “Our general queries staff has the best possible data base access, encyclopedic tools and research aids possible. My...” She stopped talking.

      “Mr. Tallboys are you listening?”

      “I’m sorry, I really am. The sun was touching your hair and the red was glowing...I, ‘encyclopedic tools, research aids possible’”

      Damn, he thought, I have to stop screwing up. She’ll think I’m eccentric or something!

      The dimples in her cheeks were really noticeable when she smiled.

      “Mr. Tallboys, you shouldn’t say things like that, this is an interview.” She didn’t sound at all angry.

      “Yes, yes, I know, I’ll stop right now.” Oh, God, world class lie, he thought. “Sorry, that was an egregious lie. I’ll try to stop.”

      It took her a moment, and a few melodic phrases to catch up.

      He had a startling thought which made him blush again.

      I wonder if she hums like that when she’s making love. Damn, if this doesn’t stop I’m going to be in a lot of trouble.

      “My father can be hard with a dollar, but not when it comes to the right equipment to do the job.” Her voice was filled with pride and affection.

      “Another example of a more extensive data request—not dangerous variety—humm-dee-dah-la-la, came from a well known author. He wanted to know everything about diamonds. We provided a historical summary; where they are found; who owns, who cuts and how; who sells; how much money is involved from mine to ring finger. I did that one.

      “We have a standard format for such searches. It includes a bibliography, and if requested, as in this case, a probability weighted analysis as to whether there was any hanky panky anywhere along the line. It took almost two weeks and we were paid five thousand dollars.”

      William was surprised that she would tell him what they were paid, but he didn’t say anything.

      “Normally we have between ten and twenty such tasks underway on any given day. My father has an external staff of over five hundred researchers in every imaginable discipline on loose contract all over the world. They do specific pieces of research for a fixed fee. Many of our researcher/analysts have access to inside information that is not generally available to the public. Our reports appear regularly in scholarly publications verbatim.”

      “It’s a fine idea,” William said. He had calmed down, marginally, enough to actually digest some of what she was saying.

      She nodded. “I love working here.” She got up, took a spouted can from a long table covered with potted


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