Characters Wanted!

The rain had ceased hours ago. A dreary mist insisted on settling in, ensuring that the night, like the day, would also be miserable. The glow of streetlights, headlights, and shop windows danced on the puddle glazed streets.

Seemingly oblivious to the damp, a man sauntered along, whistling "My Old Kentucky Home" as he went. Wearing a gray, pin-striped suit, a trilby, and simple, wire framed glasses, he would not have been hard to pick out in most crowds. His neatly trimmed hair and mustache were dusted with gray and he carried a cane, though it was obviously only for affectation as he bounced it on the pavement in time with his whistling.

At the next corner he abruptly turned down the alleyway. There was much less light this way and the only illumination came from a single sign above a door in the side of the building he had just passed. The sign shone with a dingy yellow light and simply read "Books".

The man tapped out the recognizable rhythm of  "A Shave and a Haircut" against the weatherbeaten door. The hollow sound echoed off the walls and he stood with both hands resting on his cane when he finished. Several seconds passed and the door remained closed. no sound was heard from the other side of the door. He tapped out the tune again, louder this time and with some irritation.

"We're closed!" called a woman's voice, muffled by the metal door.

"For cripe's sake, Edith, open the damn door!"

The door swung open revealing a short, plump, middle-aged woman with curly brown hair. One hand was raised to the corner of her mouth and she winced.

"Sorry, Mr. Merryweather," she said. The man sighed as he stepped around her into a small office. Two desks, on opposite walls from each other, and a small bookshelf were plenty to fill the room.

"How many times have we been through this?" he asked.

"In all fairness, sir, it's not the most original code―"

"How many times?"

"I mean, it's just me in here and it could be anyone out there and―"

"How. Many. Times?" he asked again, louder.

"Six, sir."

"Six times. And on any one of those occasions was it anyone other than myself?"

"No, sir."

"Now, you see, this would be what is known as a pattern. One that is getting on my last nerve. Keep it up and I'll be adding you to the next deal as a bonus." He gave her a less than reassuring smile.

"Still don't see why you just can't use the key," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Good," he said, taking off his jacket, "Anything new come in whilst I was out?" His mood changed in an instant, the stern scowl replaced by an expression of excitement and curiosity. Eager to move on to a new topic as well, Edith sped back to her desk and grabbed a few manila envelopes. She opened the first and skimmed the paper inside.