A Fine Mess

Chapter 44

Arnold strode quickly through the concourse and into the VIP lounge, his face twisted with frustration.

"Well?"

"Nothing. None of the agencies have any rentals left. We got here too late after the announcement."

"Try and remain calm, Arnold, we can't be drawing attention. Get our bags back and we'll take a taxi to a car lot and buy a vehicle." Miriam downed the last of her wine and banged the glass down angrily. "I can't believe such rotten luck."

Without a word Arnold went to the lounge attendant and explained what he wanted, listening as the man apologized that his request would be extremely difficult to accomplish under the circumstances. Arnold stared at him with a growing anger and a fuse sputtering in his brain. He suddenly realized what he had done—what he was doing, committing fraud, theft, accessory to murder and giving up his hugely successful company for money and a woman who appeared less and less interested in the concept of them and more and more in the idea of just her.

"I don't want your stupid excuses," he yelled suddenly. "Just get the goddamn bags. Now!"

"Sir, please..." The attendant indicated the other passengers.

"Screw them! Get my bags!"

Miriam gathered her purse and slipped from the chair, picking her way quickly to the exit, leaving Arnold ranting and screaming at the flustered attendant. As she pushed through the huge padded doors, a pair of uniformed security men barged in and as the doors closed, Miriam heard Arnold swearing and yelling hysterically.

She went directly to the gate where the next flight would be arriving and presented herself to a pretty young woman with a resigned expression and a tired smile. After several minutes of cajoling and persuading the woman made a couple of calls and a short time later a neat, tight looking man in a crisp white shirt and company tie marched briskly across the concourse to greet Miriam.

"My name is Arthur Evers, Mrs. Forbin." He announced redundantly, since it appeared in large red letters in the plastic case pinned to his pocket.

"Spenser-Forbin."

"Forgive me. Please allow me, on behalf of our airline, to express our deepest condolences on your loss and let me assure you that as we speak, your luggage is being retrieved from the baggage area."

Miriam gave him a sad, warm smile and touched his arm lightly. "I'm sorry to have caused such a problem but, well..."

"Tut, tut. Not a problem. Well," he smiled conspiratorially. "Maybe a small one." He turned suddenly at the commotion on the far side of the hall where two security men were wrestling Arnold toward their office. "Perhaps I should excuse myself—"

"Oh please, could you just find me a quiet place to sit until my bags come. I'm not feeling all that strong." Her voice pleaded but he sensed the iron beneath the request and acceded with a final glance at the departing guards.

"Of course. We can wait for your bags to be brought around to my office." He took her arm and gently led her back the way he'd come. "I'll have to see your tickets and passports and such anyway. Always paperwork to cover special requests." He smiled automatically.

Miriam gave him a sideways glance, her mind sorting through this new, inconvenient problem.

•••

Mike wheeled into the airport departure lane and pulled to a stop in front of the international entrance. An airport security guard waved imperiously at the car, shaking his head.

"You can't park there, fella, this is for drop off only."

Mike flashed his detective's shield and told the guard to watch the car, ignoring any further discussion as he shepherded Gil and Jarlayne into the airport.

"I love doing that," he smiled. "My power rush for the day."

"Oh I hope not." Jarlayne murmured, striding ahead and scanning the concourse for Peter Dellacourte.

"What?"

"Ignore her, Mike. It's just Jarlayne being Jarlayne. Where should we start?"

"Airport manager. I'll contact him, you two prowl around down here. We'll hook up over at that information booth."

Gil and Jarlayne split and started looking in opposite directions down the length of the concourse, scanning the passenger lines carefully as they went. Mike collared the closest employee and made official noises about seeing the manager immediately. Minutes later he was face to face with the airport manager, standing at the railing of a balcony overlooking the lower floor.

"We have your man in our security office. He was creating a huge disturbance in the VIP lounge."

"What about the woman with him?"

"I don't know of any woman. We can check the flight list from his ticket if you like."

"Definitely." Mike took out his cell phone. "Will this work in here?"

"Some do."

Mike tried to contact Gil, managing a hiccupping, garbled exchange of information and a plan of procedure.

•••

Miriam sat comfortably in the armchair in front of Arthur Evers' desk watching as the man hummed tunelessly, reading information from his computer screen. He tapped a few keys, moved his mouse around and muttered to himself.

"Is there a problem?" Miriam asked.

"No, no problem. I just have to make changes to the manifest and provide forms for the baggage people and the insurance company."

"Insurance company?"

"Yes, trip cancellation. It's included in your fare." Miriam was about to speak when he continued. "I see you were travelling with someone else?"

"No." She stated firmly. "Why do you say that?"

"Ahh, there's only one other passenger, a man, who is ticketed for your destination and his seat is beside you."

Miriam stood and set her purse on the desk, moving around to the man's side. "May I see what you're talking about?" She placed a hand on the back of his chair and leaned forward to peer at the screen. Arthur tilted sideways a few degrees as her breast grazed his shoulder. "That's amazing," she said. "I had no idea about this other passenger." She turned her face to his and in the few inches that separated them; Miriam sensed her power over the suddenly perspiring man.

"Uhmm, Mrs. Forbin- Spenser uuh- this is- could you- it really doesn't matter... this man. I just thought..."

"I understand," she breathed, staying put. He wiped his top lip and formed a weak smile, noticing a message that suddenly appeared on his screen. He made a funny grunt, causing Miriam to follow his attention and she sighed as the message exposed her lie about traveling alone stating that the police were on site and wanted her for questioning.

"This uh- this is very awkward." Arthur's voice cracked.

"You have no idea, Arthur." Miriam returned to the front of the desk and removed a small spray can from her purse. "Forgive me, Arthur." She aimed the can and sprayed a stream of Mace into his face. Arthur fell backwards off the chair, screaming and scrabbling at his eyes with his fingers. Miriam moved quickly, taking the big stapler from his desk and laying it heavily across the top of his head. Arthur slumped silently to the rug.