Henry Wood Perception (13 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Henry had too good a parking spot to risk giving it up, so he planned to take a taxi to go visit Martin Van Sythe. There was little to go on. He figured he would wing it. The outer office door opened, and Celine came in carrying a big box. She looked upset and tired.

Henry hopped to his feet and asked, “Hey, let me help you. What do you have there?”

“What a night,” she said, shaking her head. A sad meow came from the box. “After the game, I went home like normal. Buttons, having had longer than usual to plan his attack, I knew it would be formidable. I was not surprised when I didn’t see him right away. He usually stalks me for a while. I wasn’t hungry, so I grabbed a cup of tea and waited for the inevitable ankle bite. I had on heavy socks.”

Henry was trying to peak into the box, but she would have none of it, turning away and setting it on the desk. “When the tea was gone, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I went looking and found Buttons curled up behind the couch. He was sick. He might be the most evil cat on the planet, but I…”

She opened the box and there was Buttons, curled up, with a very sad look on his face. Henry liked cats. “Of course you can take Buttons to the vet. Does he need some food or water?”

Celine pulled the cat bed up and underneath was a litter box and tiny bowls for food and water. She handed the bed and cat to Henry.

“Hey, Buttons. You're a good-looking cat. Under the weather are you?”

Buttons said, “Meow.”

Celine said, “I'll keep him out of the way; he’ll be fine, I don’t think he is up to killing any potential clients.” Buttons laid his head back down. Henry set the cat on a chair and stroked his head. He started to purr immediately. Celine heard it and looked at Henry, shocked. Henry scratched Button’s ears and rubbed his chin when he stuck it out. Celine shook her head.

“Buttons is welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

Buttons said, “Meow.”

“He likes you. Incredible, he doesn’t like anybody. Well, at least any of the people he has met. Maybe I need new friends?” Celine set the litter box in the corner, somewhat behind the plant. Then she left to get some water. Henry snuck over and gave Buttons another petting on the head. “I have to get back to work. The doctor will fix you up. Oops, probably a bad choice of words…”

Henry went back to his office.

Celine came back with the water and then got to work. A little while passed.

Henry mulled over his talk with Bobby. The office quiet was barely disturbed when Henry heard the soft sound of a cat landing on his desk. Henry looked up from his notebook and swung his chair back around. Buttons sat down and looked at Henry. The cat looked tired. Henry picked Buttons up and set him on his lap. Buttons purred a little bit and then went to sleep.

Henry went back to thinking. It had to be the Feds that had been on the twenty-third floor, but what were they after? He didn’t know the answer, so he just closed his eyes and cleared his mind. The cat moved a little.

Celine walked in forty minutes later, looking at the floor. “I'm sorry, have you seen…”

Henry pointed to his lap.

“It's time to go to the vet. I'll try to be back soon.”

Henry gently lifted Buttons and handed her to Celine and said, “Buttons, now be nice to Celine.”

Celine rolled her eyes.

Buttons said, “Meow.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

There was a fair amount of marble in the lobby. The front desk, occupied by two young men who looked painfully bored, was stationed next to the elevators. Henry stopped and asked if they could help him find Martin Van Sythe’s office. The taller of the two pointed to a board listing all of the companies and offices.

Henry found the office number and went to the second floor. The secretary was young if one compared her to the age of western civilization. If not, then she was old enough to have heard every excuse and line in the book. Henry played it straight.

“May I help you?”

“I would like to speak to Mr. Van Sythe for a few minutes if…”

“Do you have an appointment?” She interrupted, looking down at the book which Henry was sure she had memorized.

“No, I don’t, but I …”

“What is the nature of your business with Mr. Van Sythe?”

“I just wanted to…”

“Are you buying or selling, sir?” She seemed annoyed at Henry for not knowing the drill.

Henry could tell that any attempt to make it to the end of a sentence in his usual and often verbose way was pointless. He had to put her off her game. “Are you Lithuanian by chance?”

The woman looked up and said, “My mother was from Lithuania. How did you know?”

Henry had hoped to stump her. The old gal, through pure chance, had taken his clever ploy and lobbed it right back in his lap. Henry was ready for the question, "No, why?", not "How did you know?" He said, “You look just like a woman I knew a few years back. She was lovely and a brilliant baker. “

Henry started to lay it on. He walked towards the desk at a slight angle and cocked his head to one side studying her. She didn’t say anything. “It isn’t only your face, though; it's your voice. She was such a smart woman. We used to talk for hours. She was always current on politics, could discuss history and art, and seemed to be able to offer an inspirational quote when the need would arise. She was truly remarkable.”

The woman behind the desk was captivated. Henry was impressed with himself, too. “You said ‘was’, did something happen to her?”

Henry let it hang for a moment and then said, “Oh "heavens" no. Her youngest brother's wife had a baby, and she moved back to Lithuania to be near her new niece and to help out. We had a party for her. I bought her a book of poetry and almost cried. I'm sorry to go on and on but you reminded me of her, and, in truth, I miss our talks.”

Henry was sure he had crafted a story which would satisfy the old gate keeper and allow him to make it into Van Sythe's office.

She asked, “Where does her brother live?”

He was getting into dangerous territory. If he continued she might ask for a last name. He would be stuck. Henry did know the capital, though, and said, “He lived in Vilnius but only moved there after getting married. I've no idea where they grew up, or, more accurately, I can’t remember. I'm sure she mentioned it. Did you grow up there?”

“No, my mother moved here when she was in her twenties. I was born in Queens.”

Henry stuck out his hand and said, “I'm Henry Wood. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

The woman stood up, took her glasses off her nose and let them hang around her neck. “I'm Beverly Pierce. It's a pleasure to meet you, too. Now, I believe you wanted to get in to see Mr. Van Sythe. He is busy, but if you're able to come back or wait I could squeeze you in between his 2:30 and 3:00 appointments.”

“That would be wonderful. I think I'll just go out and grab a cup of coffee. May I bring you one?”

Now she had a warm smile and said, “No, dear, that isn’t necessary. I have my tea. But it was very kind of you to ask. You should be able to get in to see him around 2:45.”

Henry tipped his hat and stepped into the hall. When he came back, cup in hand, she welcomed him by name. “Mr. Wood, you may go right in.” Henry almost wished he did have an old Lithuanian friend.

Martin Van Sythe stood and shook Henry’s hand. It was a weak handshake. Martin returned to his desk chair. Henry thought his pale skin and thin lips made him look like he was from old world Europe. It was a nice suit, though. Henry held his notebook but didn’t open it right away. “May I?”

“Please.”

Henry sat down and said, “I apologize for intruding on your day, but I was hoping you might be able to help me out.”

“How so?” Martin asked.

“I'm a private detective hired by a friend of Daniel Kupton to look into his unfortunate passing.”

Martin was interested but made an effort to flip through some papers to put on an air of casual.

“It's my understanding that you were friends?”

“I knew him. We certainly got along, but I would describe it as being more of a business relationship.”

Henry opened his notebook and asked, “I'm not sure I see the connection between real estate and manufacturing. Was he expanding and looking for new land?” Henry knew he wasn’t but didn’t want to just come out and ask what sort of business relationship they had.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Van Sythe said, lighting a pipe. “I made a small investment in his company. He was going through some hard times and needed a bit of help.”

“That sounds risky.”

“Not at all. His books were solid, but he had a lot tied up in receivables. We just helped him get through a tough time.”

Henry didn’t think he was using the royal "we." “When you say ‘we’, do you mean that it was a group of investors?”

“There were several business associates of mine who also contributed, but I really can’t go into that. You understand.”

“No, I'm afraid I don’t.”

“Most of the investments were made as ‘angel’ investors. They like their privacy. So what exactly are you looking for? I have no idea why he might have killed himself.”

“Do you know why he would have been at the Woolworth building at that hour?”

“I can’t imagine why, no. I’ve never heard him talk about any business with anyone in the building. It just doesn’t make sense except for it being tall.”

“Do you know anything about his personal life?”

“His personal life and what he chose to do with it was none of my concern.”

“I'm sure he would appreciate your discretion. What I meant was, did his wife know about Cynthia?”

“I didn’t really know her. His wife, I mean. I couldn’t say if she knew anything about Cynthia. Despite what you might think of Daniel, he loved his wife. He talked about her often. I don’t know why Cynthia happened.”

“I just have one more question. What do you know of the man who is running Kupton Manufacturing now?”

“He's a smart man, but so was Daniel. I've every reason to believe my investment is in good hands. Now, I really must ask you to leave. My next appointment…”

Henry stood and thanked him. He walked out and thanked Beverly again. A long walk was just what Henry needed to try to process his impressions of Mr. Van Sythe. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Henry got back to the office to find Celine hadn’t returned from the vet. Henry hoped Buttons was okay.

The talk with Mr. Van Sythe was still on his mind as he settled behind his desk. He heard the door open and said, “How’s Buttons?”

Lawrence, not understanding, said, “Buttons are good. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, sorry, Lawrence. I thought you were Celine.”

“You call her Buttons?”

“No, I was talking about the cat…never mind. How's it going?”

“I know you weren’t expecting me to report until tomorrow, but, well, I wanted to tell you about it all before I forgot something.”

Henry pointed to the chair and Lawrence sat down.

“They had me start right away even though I didn’t have clothes. A guy on the crew lent me some coveralls so that I wouldn’t get too dirty. I was still pretty filthy at the end of the day. The shirt is ruined.”

“Don’t you worry about that, we’ll get you a new one.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to, although my mom was pretty sore when she saw it. It isn’t important. I started the first day and helped make some six-inch pipe. It’s really hot work, and they said it was the easiest job they had in the plant. If I did good, they would try me on some other stations.”

“If you did well, not good.”

Lawrence looked confused. “What?”

“Nothing, go on, please.”

“After only an hour, I had it down. It was really not so hard. I just made sure to stay focused. I didn’t see Mr. Pimpkin much. He looks after a bunch of people. The guys, I don’t remember their names, there were a lot of them. They moved me, and I met someone new. You want I should learn all their names?”

“If you can. It would be helpful. Try to get in good with a few of them. They will trust you, and you might learn some stuff.”

“There is one guy, this colored fella. I'll learn his name tomorrow. He knows everything and showed me how to work the second station. It was a different type of pipe, thicker walls, harder to get right.”

“What do you mean get right?”

“The pipes are used for all sorts of different things. Some pipes are thin, 'cause they don’t do nothing but drain stuff. No pressure. But other ones are put under heavy pressure from steam or water. They sell some of their stuff to the Navy. I wasn’t working on Navy stuff, though.”

Henry started writing in his notebook. Lawrence thought he should wait until he was finished. Henry looked up and Lawrence continued, “They have a special group who are working on some really secret stuff. They have special furnaces and kilns and other stuff for the Navy job.”