Ashes of Yesterday

Chapter 2

The publicity hounds were hot on Flix's heels. The fact that he and Phalen had been able to crack the Canary Case so quickly, after being called in to assist the police, astounded many. The Cupid/Archer Detective Agency had more cases than it could handle. The phone started ringing off the hook. There seemed to be so many people with so many problems that needed to be solved with discretion and expediency. Flix shook his head in amazement.

"What is the world coming to?" he muttered. "How did people manage to get themselves into so much trouble?"

Nice feeling if you were running a detective agency, but it often meant Flix's secretary was in a state of constant chaos. Having to turn away business was something akin to spitting in the Pope's face, according to Mrs. Glenny.

"I think it's a sin, sir," Mrs. Glenny protested. "A pure sin! I feel horrible having to refuse to help clients so frequently."

"Now, Mrs. Glenny," Flix said, "Mr. Archer and I are only two men. We cannot possibly be expected to solve the crimes of this entire city. There are simply too many. We must pick and choose. There are only twenty-four hours in each day. We have to sleep, too."

Mrs. Glenny looked skeptical.

"Don't worry. It is only good business not to overload ourselves. We want to give the clients we do take our best efforts. Shoddy work will close us down quicker than anything."

"You're the boss," Mrs. Glenny said. "But it still feels like throwing good money away."

"We are doing quite well," Flix said. "In fact, I think you are a wonderful secretary who deserves a little raise. I'll make sure you see it in your next paycheck."

Mrs. Glenny glowed.

"Thank you, Mr. Flix," she said.

"Do not feel bad when I have to say 'no' to some of the people that come through that door. Remember, I am only doing what is best for us, Mrs. Glenny. It's called sound business."

"Yes, sir."

The muffled noises of the backfiring Model T's and other automobiles cracked endlessly outside the office windows. Horns honked. People yelled at each other. Street cars clanged their way up and down to their next stop. The riotous sounds of a living city echoed below. Flix ignored the bedlam and concentrated on the telegram.

He held the yellowed paper in his hands and reread its typed contents one more time.

An invitation!

Come to California!

Hollywood!

To think of it – an offer to make a movie about them! And only a few weeks ago, Flix had fretted that they would not make a go of it. It would have been impossible to predict how quickly their fortunes would change.

And only for the better!

"Do you think it is wise to abandon these new clients for California?" Phalen Archer asked. "I'm just wondering because things have so recently picked up."

His partner sat slumped in a chair at a small desk opposite Flix, a concerned look on his brow. Flix heard the incessant tap of Phalen's shoe against the chair leg. Smoke curled from a forgotten cigarette slowly burning itself out in the old saucer Phalen used for an ashtray.

"I understand your concerns," Flix said. "I know how dire things looked only a few weeks ago. But we've turned the corner. I want to establish us as one of the premier detective agencies in the city. I think if we can build on this, it will be phenomenal for business. This picture show is a way to distinguish us from all the rest."