The World Famous Faraday

 

The door to my office opened and he walked in. The man was tall. His brown hair tousled by the wind, lending an air of seduction that could only be surpassed by the look of determination in his eyes. As my eyes continued their journey I guessed his weight to be about 185, perfect for his 6 foot plus frame. His clothes fit well and were expensive accentuating his broad shoulders and the fact that he was appropriately angled in all the right places. I smiled a bit knowing he probably couldn’t see my facial expression. He might not even be aware I am in the room. Most people aren’t. He looked just like one of those men on the cover of the secret billionaire lover books my secretary was always reading. I mentally named him Pin Up Man and hoped one of his names began with a “P” just in case I slipped and started to address him as Pin Up.

The man stopped moving halfway across the room. “Hello?” He called.

Which is what everyone else does. I leaned to the side a bit and switched the lamp next to my desk on.

“Is anyone here?” He asked, looking around.

Which is also what everyone else does. I lifted my hand in a “Right Here” gesture. He finally saw me.

“Hello. I’m looking for Mr. Faraday.”

I raised my hand again. “I’m Faraday.”

“You’re a woman.” He said.

I looked at my chest. “I am.” I responded as I turned my attention back to the stranger. He got that surprised look, the one everyone usually gets. The one that says, “This has to be some kind of a joke.”

“You’re the world famous Faraday? The detective who single handedly rescued the Lentil baby?” He asked.

I nodded.

“The reward for finding that baby was…”

“...insane.” I said finishing Pin Up Man’s sentence. “The reward was insane.”

“And your office is here, in one of the most run down neighborhoods in the city?”

“This is the office where I set up shop ten years ago. This is where my office will be when I lock the doors for the last time.”

“You don’t like change.” He observed as he stepped closer to my desk.

“No just lazy. This desk weighs a good 80 pounds. It’s a real bitch to move.” Removing my feet off the top of the desk, I leaned forward and pulled myself and my chair out of a relaxed recline and into an upright position. “As for finding the Lentil baby, some things just require a woman’s touch.” I stood up and let Pin Up Man get a good look at me. My thick black hair, matching eyes, too pale to be olive skin and the way it seems to blend in with my clothing.

“Faraday...you’re not Irish.” Pin Up Man observed.

“I am not.”

He blushed a little. “Faraday is an Irish name.”

I shrugged. “Don’t tell my nonna, I’ll never hear the end of it.” I gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the desk. Pin Up Man sat down.

“How can I help you Mr…”

“Mr. Pierce. Aaron Pierce.”

That just saved my ass. “How can I help you Mr. Pierce?” I asked. He waited a bit before he answered. In my business that kind of hesitation is never a good sign. Pin Up Man looked at his watch a Jaeger-LeCoultre, his taste extended to his time piece, I could set my own price, if I was that kind of woman.

“It is delicate business.” He began.

“I follow very specific confidentiality guidelines, if you did anything wrong that required you to need a detective I would not tell anyone what happened to lead you to my office.”

He studied my face as he thought about my words. Mr. Pierce quickly relaxed. A little too quickly if you ask me.

“You won’t tell the authorities?”

I shook my head. My confidentiality code of conduct is not quite as strict as say that of an attorney or a therapist, there are exceptions, Pin Up Man doesn’t need to know that.

“A man is dead. I need to know who he was, what he was doing in my apartment, and why.”

I kept my face expressionless and nodded, once.“Why is that important to you?”

“Because I’m the one who killed him.”

Pierce looked at my face searching for some indication of whether I was trustworthy, if it was okay to share more information. I waited him out.

“I am a business man. A successful one. I sell art along with various rare artifacts. I’m successful because I am a bit more open to non-traditional approaches when it comes to acquiring particularly expensive and difficult to locate pieces.”

“You steal them.” I suggested.

“I acquire them which does mean purchasing an item from someone who did acquire the item in a less than completely respectable manner from time to time.”

“Someone who is looking to fence their stolen item.”

He ignored my comment and continued. “Particularly valuable and rare pieces usually go to buyers who are obtaining it for their private collections.”

“The customer is also a criminal type who doesn’t want any cops sniffing around. What happened?”

“I entered my apartment and noticed things were not as I’d left them. I keep a handgun in my desk for emergencies. I did a walk through and found a man coming out of a guest bathroom. He had a gun. So did I. I shot him without really thinking about it.”

“What happened to make you question shooting the intruder?”

“I looked around for a stash of things he had set in one area of the house, things he had planned on leaving with, I checked his pockets, and found nothing. He wasn’t dressed like an intruder either.”

“Intruders don’t exactly wear t-shirts with the word Intruder printed across them.” I pointed out.

“I work with these people. I know them on sight.”

I looked at Pin Up Man with my ‘my mistake’ expression and moved on to other things. “When did you kill him?”

“About an hour ago. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I just want to be sure.”

“You killed a bad guy?”

“Something like that.”

I looked at Pin Up Man. He seemed sincere. If I’ve learned anything since I started working in this business there are some very unsavory characters out there who when you speak with them appear to be very sincere. There are kind, upstanding citizens all over this city. Some have skeletons in their closets, others have bodies buried in the back yard. Only a handful of them are truly sincere. I wondered if this was a good idea and mentally shook my head, it probably wasn’t. It was an interesting case, it wasn’t like anyone else was beating down my door at the moment and quite frankly I was getting really bored. Besides, it would always be a great story for Nonna.