Alex Harris 00 - Armed

“You sure were anxious to talk with the guy.”
    I leaned back as well, trying to put on a relaxed front. “Poupée Mannequins is bidding on a huge job. If they get it, they’ll need to temporarily increase their staff. I hope my firm gets the business.”
    “Seems it’d be a given, seeing you’re all friends,” Detective Van der Burg said in a tone I could only describe as snide.
    “I don’t take anything for granted, Detective, not in these slow times. There are bigger agencies than mine in New Haven, Bridgeport, and Stamford. Mr. Poupée could very easily use them. Larger firms can give better rates and with tough times, he might weigh his options.”
    The detective looked around my small office. The offices of Always Prepared were housed in a small, two-story house. We occupied the first floor, with a two-man legal firm taking the second. Two former bedrooms served as the offices for me and Sam, while the living room acted as Millie’s office and a waiting area for clients. We used the tiny dining room for testing applicants and the kitchen for preparing lunch.
    I furnished my office with an over-stuffed, cozy chair, a high-polished pecan desk, and built-in shelving. Hardwood with area rugs scattered about gave the entire space a very homey, comfortable feeling. It was one of the reasons why Sam and I opted to put our business here rather than in an office complex that might have provided more visibility.
    “Looks like you’re doing very well to me.”
    I gave the detective an innocent smile and pulled my sweater closer around my body. “The truth is things could be better. When the economy is slow, companies cut back. A lot of those cuts come in the administrative area. We’ll survive.” I smiled again, hoping it true. “We’ve been through rough times before. But we have to scramble for business like everyone else.”
    “So Mrs. Scott not wanting to pass your message on to Mr. Poupée could be very detrimental to your business?”
    So far Officer Corliss hadn’t said a word. And what about that shovel? Could it be the murder weapon? Had they made a mistake about the mannequin arm? But how could that be? It had blood on it.
    “Ms. Harris?’
    I gave an involuntary shudder. “I’m sorry. Detrimental? No. I wouldn’t say that. I’m a bit impatient, Detective. I like to get things done, get all the loose ends tied up. Mrs. Scott had been preoccupied with something. While I admit to being impatient and wanting to talk with Mr. Poupée, if I didn’t see him yesterday, or even today, for that matter, I’m sure a meeting would have been arranged eventually.”
    “Okay. So you worked all day in the mailroom.
    “Yes.”
    “Alone?”
    “Yes. Except for Andy who showed up later.”
    Detective Van der Burg consulted his notes. “Andy Gregory. We spoke to him earlier. He said he left about five-twenty when Mrs. Scott came in and asked him to run an errand on his way home. So he left you alone with Mrs. Scott.”
    I shook my head. “She gave me a key to lock the front door and said she would be leaving. Oh! I remember, she said the receptionist would be leaving shortly as well.”
    “We’ve checked that out. A couple of designers left about the same time, close to five-thirty. I still find it odd for her to give you a key.”
    I took a small gulp of air. I didn’t want to lie, but nor did I want to tell the police that my first thoughts included killing the woman for leaving me alone.
    “Well, yes, I did think it odd she gave me the key and the code for the alarm,” I said in a clear voice. “But my parents are good friends with Mr. Poupée and his wife, as I’ve mentioned, and my agency has provided temporary staff there for many years.”
    “So you weren’t upset in the slightest to be left alone?” the detective pressed. “Surely, you would have thought Mrs. Scott should stay to help you finish?” Detective Van der Burg now had his elbows resting on his knees, the pad and pen dangling from his fingers. Despite his casual position, I felt him zoning in on me for the murder. But why?
    “Well, I-I guess I thought it strange at first, but it didn’t make me mad or anything,” I stammered, my bravado of a few minutes ago taking a hike. “Mrs. Scott really didn’t seem herself yesterday. She seemed agitated and forgetful. So when she asked me to stay, while it seemed odd, I assumed she had good reason for not staying herself. And, of course, now we know she had plans to meet Mr.