Lost Among the Angels (A Mercy Allcutt Book) Read Online Free Page B

closed. Persisting in my pursuit—after all, I was working for an investigator now, wasn’t I?—I opened every door I saw and eventually opened the right one. Lulu had been right about him: he was inside the closet, reading. Not Fu Manchu , but a book called The House Without a Key , by somebody named Earl Derr Biggers. I’d never heard of Mr. Biggers, although Ned had been so engrossed that he jumped a foot off his stool and dropped the book when I opened the door. He said something that sounded like, “Argh!”
          I smiled sweetly. “Ned?”
          He swallowed and slammed a hand over his heart. “I’m Ned.”
          “Are you the custodian?”
          He was regaining his composure rapidly. Sitting up straight on his stool and lifting his slightly meager chin, he said, “I’m an actor. I’m only doing this lousy job until I hit it big.”
          This seemed to be a common phenomenon in Los Angeles. I hadn’t been in the city long, a mere three weeks, but already I’d met waiters and waitresses, clerks, elevator operators, secretaries, laundresses, housemaids, and now a custodian, all of whom were biding their time working at menial jobs while waiting for fate, or somebody like my sister’s husband, to tap them on their shoulders and create instant successes out of them. It seemed chancy to me, but what did I know? I was here to gain experience, not pass judgment.
          “That’s wonderful, Mr. … er … Ned. But in your capacity as custodian, may I borrow you for a few minutes?”
          He bent over and picked up his book. “To do what?” He didn’t sound awfully eager to do the job for which he was being paid.
          “I need three light bulbs replaced and a sign repainted on a window.” Recalling the windows, the desk, the telephone, and the brass doorknobs, I added, “And I’ll need to borrow a bucket and some soap.”
          Sliding off his stool, he stood up with a sigh. He was a little taller than I and not particularly handsome, and I wondered how soon his star would shine in movie palaces across the country. I didn’t harbor too many hopes for the poor fellow, and thought it would behoove him to learn other, more profitable, skills than acting or janitoring. Naturally, I didn’t say so.
          “Where?”
          “On the third floor.”
          “Whose office?”
          “Mr. Ernest Templeton’s.”
          “Ernie’s room?” He squinted at me narrowly, as if he hadn’t really noticed me as a person before. “Say, you’re new around here, aren’t you?”
          “Yes.” I stuck my hand out and smiled brightly. “Mercy Allcutt, Mr. … Ned. Pleased to meet you.” Where in the world had all the last names of people living in Los Angeles gone?
          After looking at my hand as if it were a strange and unusual object for about ten seconds, he shook it. “Happy to meet you, too.” He gave me a smile that I think was meant to be seductive, although I’m not sure. “You’re pretty cute, Miss Allcutt.”
          I snatched my hand back. “Thank you. Please follow me.” And I marched off.
          Perhaps there are advantages to being born in the upper echelons of an old and established society and learning from the cradle how to behave as if the world belongs to you, because after hesitating for less than a second, Ned followed behind me as meekly as a lamb. The phrase born to command occurred to me, and I wondered if I had been. If so, it might be a handy attribute to cultivate.
          Over my shoulder, I said, “I have to pick up some things at the reception desk first.”
          “Okay.”
          And that was that. Ned and Lulu greeted each other with tepid enthusiasm, and then he and I walked up the stairs. After we’d scaled the second flight, he said, puffing, “Gotta fix that elevator, I guess.”
          Aha. Already I’d discovered