Steele Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Angels We Have Heard On High
Part 2 of 8
Laura led the way into the Symphony Hall, slowing as she did. A beatific smile dimpled her face as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Laura?” Steele turned and sniffed inquisitively, testing the air only to sneeze loudly.
“Bless you, Mr. Steele. Some of my favorite Christmas moments have been spent here. Last year Bernice dragged me here with a couple of lawyers from the floor above ours,” Laura grinned. “The music was so lovely I almost forgot the terminally boring company. Come on. The symphony offices are this way.”
Andrew Bell continued wringing his hands the entire time he spoke with Steele and Laura. “Some of our more faithful patrons have been invited to attend rather elegant receptions proceeding performances in return for a significant donation. We serve Christmas cookies and champagne punch and everyone has a lovely time - until they find out their jewelry is missing. The symphony has had enough difficulty maintaining patronag without this sort of negative publicity!”
“Do you have a guest list?” Laura asked. “And a list of the serving staff would be helpful, too.”
“Certainly. It will take a few minutes to have someone locate that information for you.”
As Bell made a phone call, Laura and Steele examined some of the photos on the office walls.
“Favorite Christmas moments, Laura? The symphony?” Steele asked Laura, with a quick sideways glance. Pausing, mouth open and eyes shut, he sneezed into his handkerchief.
“Music is the soul of many magical moments, Mr. Steele. Surely a man who gives a piano as a house warming gift appreciates that fact.” Laura glanced at Steele with mild concern. “Are you coming down with a cold?”
Steele cleared his throat. “Of course not. Fit as a fiddle. Speaking of Christmas and your visit to your mother…”
Laura’s brow furrowed slightly. “What sort of plans do you have for Christmas, Mr. Steele?”
“Well, seeing as crime has taken a bit of a holiday, other than this little musical disturbance …” Steele began, before a series of sneezes seized him.
“Mr. Steele? Miss Holt?” Bell interrupted before Laura could answer. “My secretary is pulling those names together for you. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to attend our last Gala tomorrow night to make sure there are no more mysterious disappearances.”
“Of course, Mr. Bell.” Laura glanced at Steele for assent. “Mr. Steele and I would be happy to attend.”
“Fabulous! You’ll need one of these invitations to get in.” As Bell reached for the heavy vellum envelope, he picked up a stack of photos lying next to it. “These pictures taken at one of the earlier receptions might be helpful to you as well. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the reception gallery.”
As they walked briskly down the hall, Steele flipped absently through the photos Bell had handed him. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he paused over one. Flipping quickly on, he handed the group to Laura.
“Take a look for yourself, Miss Holt. I’m afraid I don’t see anything helpful here.” Steele flicked his wristwatch into view. “One o’clock already. Mr. Bell, I’m going to leave you in Miss Holt’s capable hands. I have an appointment I very nearly forgot about. “
“With whom?” Laura’s look of suspicion was lost on Mr. Steele, who had Bell’s hand in both of his.
“My apologies.” Steele bowed slightly to Bell. “I’ll check in with you later, Miss Holt, and you can fill me in later on the rest of the meeting.”
Laura and Bell stood watching the rapidly departing back of Mr. Steele for a moment before Laura soldiered stolidly on. “The reception room, Mr. Bell?”
“Of course, right this way.”
*****
Mildred merrily typed in time to the “Glor-ooo-ooo-or-eeah” she sang under her breath, looking up cheerfully as Steele strode past her desk without acknowledging her.
“Mr. Steele! Where’s Miss Holt? Didn’t the two of you go to Symphony Hall together?”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Excuse me, Mildred; I have a phone call to make.” The last words were nearly lost to her as Steele continued with single minded focus into his office.
Startled, Mildred stared at the closed door between them, raising her eyebrows as she intoned under her breath, “So much for Christmas spirit! Hark the Herald schmerald!”
Steele’s office door swung open before Mildred had finished another chorus of Angels and Steele walked out, thoughtfully tracing the edge of his lower lip with his finger as he looked up at the Agency receptionist from under lowered lashes.
“A little matter has come up that demands my attention, Mildred. Can I count on you to keep moving ahead on the plans for our agency holiday getaway?”
“Sure, Chief. I found a package deal…”
Steele was already half way out the door. He turned to look over his shoulder at Mildred. “Later, Darling.”
As he looked down the hall outside the agency, Steele stopped short. Ducking into the stairwell, he disappeared from sight.
Mildred shrugged and resumed typing. Soon she was once again caroling along to the staccato rhythm of the keyboard. “Angels we have heard on high…”
The agency door swung open and Miss Holt walked briskly in.
“Mildred.” Laura nodded her greeting as she continued past the desk toward her office.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Missy!” Mildred moved agilely around the desk to grab hold of Laura’s arm. “What gives? You and the boss leave together but come back solo. He isn’t here two minutes and cruises out of here like James Bond. Do you mind telling me what happened at Symphony Hall?”
“Absolutely nothing happened at Symphony Hall except Mr. Steele remembered an appointment. Here, I’d like you to run these names through your database and see what you come up with,” Laura removed Mildred’s hand from her arm, placing in it the file she carried. Her brow furrowed as she processed what Mildred had just said. “Mr. Steele has been here already?”
“Been and gone. I can’t believe you didn’t see him. The door to the stairway closed just as you walked in.”
“Mr. Steele took the stairs?” Adjusting her expression to one of casual acceptance, Laura said, “He did mention something about turning over a new leaf this upcoming year, getting more exercise and all.”
“Uh huh. And what do you want me to do with any info I come up with on these names? Bring them to you or Mr. Steele?”
“Me, Mildred. Mr. Steele and I are a team. I’ll share what we find with him, and he’ll share whatever he comes up with this afternoon with us in due time,” Laura turned and walked into her office, falling back against the door with clenched fists as she closed it behind her.
“He will, or I’ll drag it out of him.”
*****
Laura’s pen pushed across a sheet of paper with her characteristic decisive loops, pausing only for a moment as she looked at another sheet of paper in front of her. Sighing, she straightened the stack, shoved them into a folder, and then into her briefcase.
Following a soft rapping, Mildred’s head appeared in a slight opening in Laura’s office door.
“I’m calling it quits for today, Miss Holt. ‘Nada’ on any of those names you gave me. Nothing more than a parking ticket on any of ‘em. Sorry I wasn’t more help.”
“That’s OK, Mildred. Mr. Steele hasn’t checked in?” Laura cringed slightly, knowing the answer before she asked. The phone had lit up only once and that call had been another from her mother, worrying about the prediction of a snowstorm on the east coast.
“Nothing from him, either. Guess his appointment took longer than he expected.” Mildred hovered in the doorway. “I’m making my gingerbread tonight, I’ll bring some in tomorrow.”
Laura nodded, her eyes narrowing for a second. “Great; ‘night, Mildred.”
Before the door had closed, Laura was out of her chair, reaching for the handbag she had flung on top of the filing cabinets when she entered her office. Fishing for the stack of photos Mr. Bell had given her, she sat back at her desk, slowly sifting through the images and studying the faces and groupings in each. Her eyes widened as she studied them. Glancing at her watch, she reached for the phone.