Detectives Lewis and Wolfrom cross the expanse of concrete outside the ostentatious Molony and Mulroney office tower and enter the M&M lobby.
On the left are yogurt shops and boutiques while the right funnels visitors past the wide expanse of security desk before culminating at an impressive bank of elevators. As the detectives make their way to the security desk, Lewis pulls out her ID wallet to present to the guard. He nods after a cursory glance then looks expectantly up from scrutinizing the bank of security monitors spread out before him.
“Help you officer?” he asks.
“We’re looking for the owner of the red Schwinn bicycle chained up outside there. If you can direct us to the owner that’d be fine. If not just point us to the personnel department.”
The guard looks a little shifty, glancing back at the monitors so as not to meet anyone’s gaze. “Uh, well, I’m not really sure.”
Wolfrom crosses his arms, not a sidekick anymore, but a stern representative of the law. Menacing even. “We need sure.”
Bereft of his usual power to mess with those on the other side of the desk, the security guard knows he’s out of his depth. And when he thinks about it, really, the little creep isn’t worth running afoul of the law over.
“I don’t know one bike from another, but I know Neil comes in on a red bike sometimes. I can’t swear it’s that one.”
Wolfrom asks, “Where will we find this Neil?”
“He’s on twenty nine, in marketing.”
“And that would be Neil who?” she presses.
The guard drops his gaze, sighing. This had been such a good gig. ” Molony. Neil Molony.”
Lewis tenses, then writes it in her book. She thanks him then they head for the elevators.
“Must be your lucky day,” says Wolfrom, pushing the buttons. “Gonna get a shot at the other M.”
