20
The Company
“Back again, Mr. Lockerby?” Edmond said from behind the reception desk of the Hall of Records. He looked better today; the dark circles under his eyes seemed faded and his hands weren’t shaking. He’d even slicked back his white hair. He wore a broad smile that showed off a dimple in his left cheek and straight, if yellow, teeth.
“They’ve got you working up here today?” Alex asked.
“No,” Edmond said with a laugh. “I’m just filling in for our receptionist while she’s at lunch. We all have to chip in around here.”
His smile was easy and friendly. Alex was surprised the man remembered him. Most government desk jockeys couldn’t be bothered to remember anyone. It was refreshing.
“I can take you downstairs if you need some more permit records,” Edmond continued. “It’s not very busy during the lunch hour.”
“That’s okay,” Alex said, leaning on the counter. “I’m looking for business records today.”
Edmond looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.
“You need to have record or application numbers if you want to look up business records,” he said. “We don’t store permit records by business name.”
“I’m not looking for permit records,” Alex explained. “I need the paperwork a company has to file in order to do business in the state.”
Edmond’s brows furrowed for a moment. Alex had hoped someone in the office would be able to tell him exactly what he was looking for. He knew companies had to file paperwork so they could open a bank account and pay taxes, but he’d never had to do it himself.
“Is there someone here who can help with that?” he asked.
Edmond’s look of concern melted away and he began smiling and nodding.
“You want to see their articles of incorporation,” he said, then he shook his head. “For a minute, I couldn’t remember what they were called.” He looked around as if he were suddenly afraid of being overheard and leaned in, conspiratorially. “I must be getting old,” he said with a wink.
Alex laughed at that.
“So companies have to sign articles?” he asked. “Like pirates.”
He’d read Treasure Island enough to know that pirates did that. It seemed eerily coincidental that companies had to do it too.
Edmond laughed.
“Just like pirates,” he agreed. “You want the office of business filings.” He pointed at the vaulted ceiling. “Third floor.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, starting to turn away.
“Wait,” Edmond said, reaching out to grab his sleeve. “They’re at lunch.”
Alex wasn’t really surprised; it was a government office after all.
“If everyone’s at lunch, why are you still here?” he asked. “Why not just hang a gone-to-lunch sign on the door like everyone else?”
Edmond laughed. His smile was infectious, but Alex noticed that there were dark spots on his gums where they met his teeth. No doubt a symptom of his illness. Alex had almost forgotten that the vital man across the counter was under a death sentence.
Just like me.
Alex reminded himself that if Edmond could soldier on with a smile on his face, so could he.
“Too many politicians come in here on their lunch break,” Edmond explained. “They get cranky if they have to wait, so half the building goes to lunch at noon, the other half at one.”
Alex pulled out his pocketwatch and checked the time. It was over half an hour until one.
“I guess I’ll go get some lunch myself, then,” he said, replacing his watch. As he slipped his hand into his pocket, however, he remembered that he only had about two bits on him and he needed that for crawler fare.
“On second thought,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I’ll just wait here.”
“Oh you don’t have to wait,” Edmond said, looking around with his conspiratorial grin. “I can help you.”
“What if someone comes in?”
He shrugged and pulled up a paper tent from under the counter that read, back in ten minutes.
“The only people who come in at this hour are either lost or they’re the politicians I was talking about. They know their way around plenty good enough.”
Edmond led Alex past the wide stairway that led up to the second floor, down a hall to the elevator.
“You’ll have to pardon me,” he said, pushing the button to call the car. “I’m not up to two flights of stairs these days.”
Alex mimicked his conspiratorial grin.
“Me neither,” he said in a low voice.
The car was one of the new kind, without an operator, so Alex pushed the button marked three.
The Office of Business Filings was enormous, taking up the entire north wing of the building. Edmond simply twisted the handle of the darkened door and opened it. Alex filed away the knowledge that the clerks didn’t lock the office during lunch for possible later use.
Inside there was a large waiting area with tables under magelights that lit up when Edmond flipped a switch by the door. A long counter ran along one side of the area with rows and rows of shelves running off into the dark behind them. A ticket dispenser stood on one end of the counter, and a sign invited patrons to take a number, just like at the deli.
“You know how to find things in that?” Alex asked, pointing to the towering shelves stuffed with file folders, boxes, and folios.
“Sure,” Edmond said, lifting up a hinged part of the counter to step behind it. “It’s just like downstairs except things are filed alphabetically by company name instead of by permit number. So what are you looking for?”
“Anything you can give me on North Shore Development,” Alex said, leaning on the counter.
Edmond turned back toward the files, but stopped after a step, leaning heavily on a desk.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, lifting the hinged counter and moving to where Edmond stood. Before he could grab the older man’s arm and help him to a chair, Edmond waved him off.
“It catches up with me every once in a while,” he said. “I’m all right.”
Alex wanted to ask if he was sure, but Edmond straightened up to his full height. All traces of the weakness that had affected him a moment before were gone.
“Go wait out there,” Edmond said, pointing back to the waiting area. “I’ll catch hell if anyone sees you back here.”
Alex wasn’t happy about leaving, but Edmond was a proud man and Alex didn’t want to insult him.
Retreating to his side of the counter, Alex lowered the moving piece into place and leaned on it. He considered smoking his last cigarette. Since he had a dinner date tomorrow, he resolved to save it for then.
Absently he wondered where he would take Jessica. He supposed there were still a few dollars of emergency money in his safe, the hollowed-out book he kept on the shelf right next to the Archimedean Monograph. If they went to a diner, he might have enough for a decent meal, but what would Jessica think of that? She’d told him to take her somewhere nice. He suddenly realized he didn’t have the faintest clue what she might like to eat.
Some detective you are, he chided himself.
“Here you go,” Edmond said, coming back with a heavy looking folio. He dropped it on the counter, kicking up some dust from inside, then took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He looked paler than he had before.
“You should go home,” Alex said, turning the folio around and removing the elastic band covering the cardboard flap on top. “Spend time with your family.”
Edmond smiled at that, but it was wistful rather than happy. He didn’t have any family. Alex instantly felt like a heel.
“Don’t be sorry,” Edmond said, reading Alex’s expression. “My wife and I had a good run before she passed.”
“No kids?” Alex knew he shouldn’t ask, but his curiosity got the better of him.