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From the Columbus Circle express stop it was a relatively short walk to the building on Sixth Avenue where Peerless Health Insurance had their home office. He found it strange to be walking the streets of Midtown Manhattan and seeing so few people. Like on the subway, most of the few people he encountered were masked. Reaching the proper building, Brian thought it a coincidence that it happened to be a few doors down from where Priority Capital was located. Thinking about Priority Capital and Calvin Foster made Brian hope that his proposed budget for the fancy Southampton wedding was being well received, and that he could be on the verge of securing some income.

He had purposely not called ahead to schedule a meeting with Peerless, as he doubted that they would be willing to see him. These days, companies limited physical contact, often preferring phone or, better yet, impersonal email exchanges. Dealing with an unhappy customer like Brian was far easier at a distance, particularly online. Of course, there was still the problem about physically accessing the Peerless Health Insurance office with the security Manhattan commercial office buildings invariably employed. But Brian still had his duplicate NYPD shield and ID. The fact that his ID card had retired under the photo hardly limited its effectiveness in providing access to most everything in the city. Besides, he also knew that many of the NYC commercial office buildings employed retired NYPD officers as guards.

As he negotiated the revolving door, he withdrew his wallet to have it ready. Similar to the street outside, the interior of the building was almost deserted. As he approached the security desk, he was encouraged to see, seated behind a plastic shield, a well-groomed, silver-haired, mildly overweight gentleman who looked the part of a retired cop with his crew cut and mustache. With practiced nonchalance, Brian flashed his ID quickly and the two men exchanged a convivial, knowing greeting, like members of a private club.

“How are you, my friend?” Brian said.

“Fine, thank you,” the security man replied with a broad smile. “Are you with Midtown North Precinct?”

“No, ESU.”

“Oh, wow!” the guard said. The ESU was highly regarded by the entire NYPD, since they were the ones called in whenever the regular patrolmen confronted a major problem. “How can I help?”

“How about yourself? What was your last command?”

“I retired from Midtown North. It’s how I got this job.”

“Good for you, but it looks like you’re not very busy these days.”

The security guard laughed. “It’s unbelievable,” he said. “It’s like a morgue around here. It makes me wonder if it’s ever going to go back to normal. So, what can I do for you?”

“I need to talk to someone at the Peerless Health Insurance office,” Brian said. “Are many of them here or are they all working from home?”

“A few of them come in. Mostly the brass. None of the secretaries or grunts.”

“How about Ebony Wilson?” he asked. “Do you know her, by any chance?”

“Of course I know Ebony. She’s one of the ones who comes in every day. Treats me like a person, and always says hello. Not like the Peerless boss lady.”

“Are you talking about Heather Williams?” The eccentric and rather outlandish image of the woman in the pretentious foxhunting outfit popped into his mind.

“I don’t know her name,” the guard said. “I made a point of not wanting to know it.”

“Why is that?”

The guard looked to both sides as if to be sure no one was listening, even though the expansive lobby was otherwise deserted. A janitor who’d been wiping down the turnstiles with disinfectant when Brian had first entered had disappeared. “She’s extremely snotty and thinks she’s better than everyone else. That’s my personal assessment. Not only does she not say hello, but she doesn’t even acknowledge that I exist. She waltzes through here with her entourage like she’s the pope.”

“What do you mean, ‘entourage’?”

“She’s always surrounded by three or four people rushing around her doing this and doing that, fawning over her. It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t even push her own elevator button. And several of them are armed bodyguards. I know because I had a conversation once with one of them. He’s a former marine.”

“Armed guards? That’s rather surprising,” Brian observed. “But are you sure about that? Don’t you think maybe this former marine was pulling your leg?”

“I swear on a stack of Bibles,” the guard promised. “I’m not exaggerating.”

“But why?” It seemed excessive, to say the very least.

“The ex-marine I spoke to says she’s become really wealthy. He bragged she’s been making ten million a year.”

“That can’t be true.” The idea that the CEO of a small, up-and-coming health insurance company could make that kind of salary seemed ridiculous.

“It’s not out of line,” the guard insisted. “As a small-time investor, I happen to know that some of the CEOs of the big health insurance companies that I’ve invested in make upward of twenty million a year.”

“Really?” Brian questioned. He never knew that such salaries existed in healthcare, though Emma’s astronomical hospital bills were beginning to make more sense. Someone had to benefit.

“It’s true. Health insurance companies are good investments. Mark my words.”

“I’ll give that some thought,” Brian replied for lack of another response. He wondered if the security guard was exaggerating. Twenty million for running a company that sold health insurance seemed preposterous.

“You learn a lot being one of the security guards in a building of this size,” the guard added.

“I bet you do. How about today? Did you see Ebony Wilson?”

“Oh yeah,” the guard said. “She’s upstairs.”

“Well, she’s one of the people I need to talk to.”

“Is she in trouble?”

“No, no,” Brian said quickly. “I just need to chat with her about Peerless. What floor?”

“Fifty-fourth. Do you want me to call up there and let her know to expect you?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. You know the trick. It’s often better to catch certain people unawares, because you might learn more.”

“Gotcha.” The guard gave him a knowing look and a thumbs-up. “Use the turnstile farthest to the left.”

“Will do,” Brian said as a youthful, casually dressed man in jeans, polo shirt, and tennis sneakers entered through the revolving door. As he passed, he flashed a card at the security guard and headed for the turnstiles.

“Hello, Mr. Bennet,” the guard called out. Then to Brian he whispered: “He’s with Peerless.”

“Now, that might be handy,” Brian said, making a rapid decision. Quickly he headed for the visitors’ turnstile and pushed through. Hurrying after Mr. Bennet, who had boarded one of the elevators that served floors forty through sixty, he was able to catch the elevator door before it closed.

“Sorry about that,” Brian apologized as he stepped in.

“Not a problem,” Mr. Bennet replied graciously.

“The guard happened to mention that you are with Peerless Health,” Brian said, making it sound like a casual statement.

“I am indeed,” Mr. Bennet agreed. “Director of sales. And you?”

“I run a security firm,” Brian said. “I’m impressed, and I hope you don’t find this offensive, but you look more like a college student than a health company executive.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Mr. Bennet replied with a laugh, tossing a bit of his blond hair out of his eyes.