To Catch a Spy
“I had left the lights on and the doors open for Grant. There wasn’t much going on in the Farraday on New Year’s Day. I had taken the straining elevator up the five flights, listening to its echo below. The building lights weren’t on, but there was enough light coming through the skylights in the ceiling to cast impressive late morning shadows.The Farraday was, thanks to Jeremy Butler, always clean and smelling of Lysol, one of my favorite scents. The turn-of-the-century ironwork of the railings..., stairwell, and painfully slow elevator created dark, intricate patterns that kaleidoscoped as I moved upward.Jeremy and his family lived in converted offices on the seventh floor of the Farraday. It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford more. Jeremy had property on both sides of the hills: two one-story courtyard apartments, a small office building in North Hollywood, and others he didn’t talk about much.I had pushed open the doors of the elevator, listening first to the creaking echo and then to my footsteps as I moved toward my office.MoreLess
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