The Finder: a Novel
“But before we begin I just want to say that we know a man like yourself has many options, of course, so I have personally supervised this research, not only for the confidentiality issue—one can never be too careful—but also because I want you to know that we are dedicated to providing you excellent service." The man, who was named Phelps, got no response, and his voice seemed to echo around the large room full of antiques and paintings thirty stories above Central Park and then get lost up nea...r the high ceiling of concentric ornamental plaster medallions. The kind of ceiling no one built anymore, not unless they had a few extra hundred thousand to spend. Probably not the kind of room where Phelps usually presented his findings. Dressed in a gray wool suit, he had a salesman's fastidious grooming and eagerness to please. With a whiff of a military background, or perhaps law enforcement. His partner, a younger man named Sims, also in a gray suit, blinked constantly, like a timekeeping device.MoreLess
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