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The Naked Typist sw-4

Page 3

by Parnell Hall


  Danby shrugged. “And that’s what happened. The buzzer went off. I figured it was a computer glitch, or something, I needed to fix. There’s no connecting door. Only one door to the secretary’s office. So I went out in the hallway, took my key and unlocked the door.”

  “And what happened then?” Castleton asked.

  “I opened the door and Miss Blaine was standing there naked. Well, that was a shock. The typists have strict instructions. In the event something was wrong and they needed help they were to be fully dressed before they buzzed. Kelly Blaine had not done that. I was, of course, shocked and embarrassed, and I didn’t know what she was doing.

  “But I found out. She came on to me. I’d told her Mr. Castleton was going to be away for the day. And she said since he wasn’t here there was no reason we shouldn’t take a break together.”

  “Bullshit,” Steve said.

  Castleton held up his hand. “Let’s hear the rest.”

  “Well,” Danby said. “That was it. Mr. Castleton has strict rules. And that was one of them. A man in his position, it’s only natural people would try to take advantage of him. Put him in a compromising situation.

  “She’d been told this. She knew at the slightest bit of an indiscretion she’d be out. I guess she figured I wouldn’t tell.

  “She figured wrong. I told her so. Mr. Castleton would know of this and she was through.

  “And she went crazy. Screaming, kicking, crying, hysterical. I tried to calm her down, but there was nothing I could do. The woman had lost it. She pushed by me, actually knocked me down, and ran out of the office. I got up and ran out in the hall just in time to see the front door close. By the time I got to the door, she was gone.

  “And that’s it,” he said. “I suppose you being a lawyer, in some way you figure all that’s Mr. Castleton’s fault.”

  Steve paid no attention. He stared straight at Castleton. “Is he finished?”

  “Are you finished?” Castleton asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “He’s finished.”

  “Fine,” Steve said. “Are you going to let me cross-examine?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “My client’s story is that she never sounded the bell for assistance. Suddenly the door opened, this man appeared in the room, made sexual advances at her, abused her physically and forced her to flee the apartment.”

  Castleton nodded. “Naturally she would say something like that.”

  “Since you won’t let me cross-examine Mr. Danby, my only alternative is to file suit and get you into court so I can cross-examine Mr. Danby.”

  Steve Winslow got up and started for the door.

  “Stop.” The word was like a whiplash, even from that reedy voice.

  Steve Winslow stopped, turned around, “Yes?”

  “Come back.”

  Steve walked back to the desk.

  Castleton looked up at him. “Your suit has no merit. However, I’m an old man and I have no wish to be dragged into court. I also feel sorry for the girl, misguided though she may be. What will it take to make this thing go away?”

  “Immediate possession of her clothes and purse, plus a sizable cash settlement.”

  “I’m willing to be reasonable if you are,” Castleton said. “The woman walked off her job and is entitled to nothing. However, I’m willing to consider she was terminated and give her two weeks severance pay. At a hundred bucks an hour, that comes to eight thousand dollars.”

  Steve Winslow shook his head. “You’re not even in the ballpark. We’re talking about a million-dollar suit here.”

  “A million dollars?” Castleton said. “No, no. I’m not talking about what you’d file for. I’m talking about what you’d settle for.”

  “You mean right now? Cash in hand?”

  “That’s right.”

  “A hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Dream on. My offer is eight thousand dollars. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine. I’ll leave it.”

  Steve turned to go.

  “Without consulting your client?”

  Steve stopped. “My client won’t take eight thousand dollars.”

  “So you say. Why not let her make that decision?”

  Steve frowned. He didn’t want to make any concessions to Castleton, but if he walked out now it would be without her clothes and purse. “May I use your phone?”

  “Certainly.”

  Steve walked to the desk, picked up the phone, punched in the number.

  Tracy answered.

  “It’s me,” Steve said. “Put Kelly on.” There was a moment, then her voice came on the line. “This is Steve Winslow,” he said. “I’m in Castleton’s office. He’s offered us a settlement. Two weeks salary-eight thousand dollars.”

  “And my clothes and purse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take it.”

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Steve said. He hung up the phone and turned to Castleton. “Your offer is rejected. See you in court.”

  Steve turned and headed for the door.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Castleton said impatiently.

  Steve stopped. Turned back.

  Castleton glared at him. “Can’t we negotiate without these theatrics?”

  “I wasn’t aware we were negotiating,” Steve said.

  “Of course we are,” Castleton said. “I have no desire to go to court, and neither have you. Let’s settle the damn thing.”

  “Fine,” Steve said. “Write me a check for a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Castleton said, irritably. “I’m willing to pay for the nuisance value, but within reason. Twenty-five thousand for a full release.”

  “You’re talking about the civil suit,” Steve said. “There are criminal charges here as well.”

  “You can’t negotiate criminal charges. That would be unethical.”

  “Not to mention illegal,” Steve said. “I’m not negotiating them. I’m just mentioning them to show you that the situation is somewhat complicated.”

  “Not for me,” Castleton said. “If your client has some problem with Phil Danby, that’s between him and her.”

  “Yes and no,” Steve said. “Considering the requirements of the employment, requirements initiated by you, I think you might find yourself at the very least an accessory to such charges as rape, assault, what have you.”

  “Nonsense,” Castleton said.

  Steve shrugged. “Probably. But, as you say, that’s neither here nor there. We’re discussing the civil suit here, not the criminal charge. We’re certainly not negotiating that. That would be compounding a felony and conspiring to conceal a crime. Something you and I would never dream of doing.

  “Of course, that’s assuming criminal charges are brought at all. And from a legal standpoint, having reached a settlement with you in the civil suit and having given you a full release from any or all damages arising from the employment, Kelly Blaine would be hard-pressed to come up with any grounds for pressing criminal charges in this matter.”

  Steve waved his hands. “But that’s not what we’re discussing. By all means, let’s talk settlement.”

  “You have my offer. Twenty-five thousand.”

  “And you have mine.”

  “Yes. A hundred thousand. If you’re not going to budge from it, there’s nothing to talk about and we’ll see you in court.”

  Steve smiled. “Did I say that, Mr. Castleton? We’re all businessmen here. You’ve come up. I’ll come down. Seventy-five thousand and call it a day.”

  Castleton shook his head. “Out of the question.”

  “Okay,” Steve said. “I think the situation’s clear. We have figures on the table neither one of us can live with. We need to come up with a compromise figure, or go to court.”

  “Such as?”

  Steve shook his head. “Your move. I just came down to seventy-five, remember?”

  “That’s not even close.”

&nb
sp; Steve sighed. “We have a problem here. The way I see it, the only issue here is how many more bids it’s gonna take us to get to fifty grand. You don’t wanna say fifty because you’re afraid if you do I’ll say seventy and then we’ll be arguing between those two figures trying to split at sixty. And I don’t want to say fifty because then you’ll say thirty and we’ll be arguing between those two figures trying to split at forty.” Steve threw up his hands. “It’s a no-win situation. The way I see it, we could be here all day. So I’m not naming a figure. I’m suggesting if you named the figure fifty thousand, it might end negotiations.”

  “Are you stating such is the case?”

  “Not at all. I’m talking tentatively and hypothetically.”

  “All right. Talking tentatively and hypothetically then, if I named the figure fifty thousand, would you accept it?”

  “If you named it, yes.”

  “All right. Fifty thousand dollars, take it or leave it. Do we have a deal?”

  “In principle.”

  Castleton frowned. “What do you mean, in principle?”

  “The cash compromise is satisfactory. But the deal is predicated on my receiving Kelly Blaine’s clothes and purse.”

  “And upon you furnishing me with a blanket release.”

  “Certainly,” Steve said. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out the papers, handed them over.

  Castleton glanced at the papers just long enough to verify what they were, then nodded to Danby. “Get it.”

  Danby turned and walked out the door with the air of a trained dog doing a trick. Castleton buried his head in the papers. He was still reading when Danby came back, carrying a purse and a shopping bag. He started to give them to Steve Winslow, but Castleton held up his hand. “One moment. I’m not done.”

  Castleton finished the last page, set the papers down. “All right, give him the stuff.”

  Steve took the shopping bag and the purse, walked over to a small table and set them down to examine them. In the shopping bag he found a skirt, sweater, bra, panties, stockings and shoes. The purse was of fabric rather than leather, a soft, flexible bag pulled closed with a drawstring that doubled as a shoulder strap. Steve spread the top open, reached in and examined the contents. He found the usual junk-tissues, lipstick, pens, paper, what have you. He also found a set of keys, a change purse with thirty-eight dollars and change in it, and a white envelope with Kelly Blaine’s name on it and eight one-hundred-dollar bills inside.

  Steve looked up from the purse. “Where’s the wallet?”

  “What?” Castleton said.

  “There’s no wallet. There’s a change purse with money, but no wallet.”

  Castleton looked at Danby. “Phil?”

  Danby shrugged. “Then she didn’t have one. I assure you, her purse has not been touched.”

  “There’s your answer,” Castleton said.

  “I have to check with my client,” Steve said.

  He walked over to the desk, picked up the phone, called the office and had Tracy put Kelly Blaine on the wire.

  “Did you get it?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Mr. Castleton and I have reached an agreement. I have your clothes and purse.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “There’s one problem. I checked the purse. Your keys are in it, and your change purse and your day’s pay. But your wallet isn’t.”

  “That’s all right, I left it at home.”

  “Fine,” Steve said. “See you soon.”

  Steve hung up before she could ask any questions. He turned back to Milton Castleton. “All right, Mr. Castleton. We have a deal.”

  4

  Kelly Blaine certainly looked different when she emerged from the inner office where Steve Winslow and Tracy Garvin had left her to dress. Of course, Steve had only seen her in a grungy overcoat before, but still the change was amazing. She had taken the time to fix her makeup and comb her hair. As a result, the face that looked as if it could be attractive was attractive.

  So was the figure. Her clothes, though discrete and conservative, covered a full-breasted, slim-waisted body that dressed differently could only be described as voluptuous.

  Steve Winslow smiled. “‘Well, Miss Blaine, you do look better.”

  She smiled back. “I can’t thank you enough. The whole thing was such a nightmare. I can’t believe it’s over.”

  “Well, it is. Signed, sealed and delivered. I’ve had Miss Garvin draw you up a check.”

  “Check?”

  “Yes. Mr. Castleton naturally made the settlement out to me as your attorney. As I told you, I’m retaining a third as my fee. I’ve had Miss Garvin make you out a check for the balance.”

  Steve nodded to Tracy, who picked up the check from the desk and handed it to Kelly. She took it, folded it, started to stick it in her purse.

  “You’d better look at it,” Steve said.

  “Why?” she said. She stopped, unfolded the check. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my god!” She stared at the check a moment, then looked up at Steve. “This check is for thirty-three thousand dollars.”

  “Thirty-three thousand and change. That’s your share of the settlement. My share’s sixteen thousand and change. The settlement was fifty thousand.”

  She stared at him. “I told you to settle for eight.”

  “I know. I’m a bad boy.”

  She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Well, it’s done.”

  “Yeah, but you could have blown the settlement.”

  “If I had, you could sue me for malpractice. As it is, you take the money and run.”

  Kelly Blaine looked at the check again. “Thirty-three thousand dollars.”

  “Yeah,” Steve said. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t just that I wanted a bigger fee or that I wanted the money for you. I was just pissed off at the smug son of a bitch for what he did to you, and I wanted to bash him one.”

  “I see,’” Kelly said.

  “What’s the matter?” Steve said. “You don’t look happy.”

  Kelly Blaine blinked. “I don’t know. It’s just … I guess I’m just a little stunned.”

  She took one more look at the check, then folded it, jammed it into her purse and pulled the drawstring shut.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. It was terrific work. Unbelievable. I don’t know how you did it. But if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get home, relax, get this out of my mind.”

  She smiled at Steve, nodded to Tracy, then turned hurriedly and let herself out the door.

  Steve Winslow and Tracy Garvin watched her go, then turned and looked at each other in puzzlement.

  Considering she had gotten everything she came here for and more, Kelly Blaine did not look one bit happy.

  5

  Mark Taylor couldn’t stop laughing. “I love it. What a concept. ‘Miss Coosbaine, take a letter.’ I mean, Jesus Christ.”

  “It’s not funny, Mark.”

  Mark Taylor shifted his bulk in Steve Winslow’s clients’ chair and took a sip from the paper cup of coffee he was holding. “Sure, sure. It’s not funny at all. Perfectly routine. I get a naked client once or twice a week. Tell me, what did she look like?”

  “She looked good.”

  “I’ll bet. Taylor chuckled. “I wonder if that would work in my office. Except that girl I got on the switchboard”-Taylor shook his head-“I’d pay to keep her clothes on.” Taylor grinned. “I don’t suppose you thought of tryin’ it.”

  “You’d better watch out, Mark. You let Tracy hear you talk like that, you’ll be in deep trouble.”

  Taylor shrugged. “I’m always in trouble with Tracy one way or another. First place, she won’t date me. Second place, she fancies herself a private detective-she’s always trying to one-up me. I don’t see her as a private detective somehow. I see her more as a typist.”

  “Jesus, Mark.”

  “Okay
, okay,” Taylor said. “But you gotta admit it’s funny. Anyway, if you got a settlement, I got a bill.”

  “What do you mean, if I got a settlement? I ever ask you to work on a contingency basis?”

  “No, but we’re friends, and I’m not gonna stick you. This Castleton phone number thing-getting his unlisted number- well, that’s a service and I can charge you for it. But as it happens, I’ve had occasion to look it up before and we had it in the rolodex. If you got a settlement and can afford to pay me for passing on the information, fine. If you didn’t, I’d feel bad charging you for telling you something I already knew.”

  “The point is moot, since I made the settlement. What do you usually charge for an unlisted number trace?”

  “Two hundred bucks.”

  “Fine. I’ll have Tracy make you out a check.”

  Taylor’s eyes gleamed. “She gonna type it?”

  “Fuck you, Mark.”

  “Hey, lighten up. You gotta admit the whole thing’s funny.”

  “It is and it isn’t. You never met my client. This is a nice young woman. Someone this shouldn’t have happened to. It’s funny in the abstract, but when you start thinking of her as a person, it’s not funny at all.”

  “Right. And it’s not funny when someone dies, but somehow, eventually it always is.”

  “I know. On the other hand, you never met Castleton. Or did you?”

  Taylor shook his head. “No. The case I got his number for, some attorney just wanted it for a negligence claim. I never even knew what the case was.”

  “But you know who Castleton is? I mean, you knew before I told you?”

  “Yeah. Big-shot businessman, old and retired.”

  “Right. And he happens to like to look at naked women.”

  “I can’t blame him.”

  “Yeah, well I can. See, Mark, that’s the whole bit. You can say he’s a rich eccentric, he likes to look at naked women, who doesn’t, what’s the big deal?”

  “But there’s more to it than that. If this guy just wanted to look at strippers, nude models, girls who do that kind of thing, yeah, what’s the big deal? But he doesn’t. That’s not his bag. He doesn’t want some girl who makes a living showing off her body. He wants some nice, decent, respectable secretary who wouldn’t do that sort of thing in a million years. He wants to take her and offer her enough money to get her to do it. It’s not just sex that gets the guy off. It’s power, domination, humiliation. He wants to take a respectable girl and make her do what he wants. It’s like the old joke about the guy in the casino goes up to the girl and says, ‘I just hit it big at roulette and I wanna celebrate, would you come up to my room with me for a thousand bucks?’ She says, ‘Sure.’ He says, ‘Would you do it for five?’ She says, ‘What kind of a girl do you think I am?’ He says, ‘We’ve already established that. Now we’re just haggling over price.’”

 

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