The Naked Typist

6

David Castleton shook hands with Steve Winslow and sat in the clients’ chair.

“So,” Steve said. You wished to see me?”

“Yes.”

“What about?”

David Castleton tugged at his shirt collar as if the tie he was wearing was slightly too tight. “Well,” he said, “I’m David Castleton. Milton Castleton is my grandfather.”

Steve nodded. That was no surprise, even though it was hard to relate the handsome, sandy-haired, open-faced youth to the bald, emaciated old man. “Yes?”

“I understand you just had some dealings with my grandfather.”

Steve frowned. “You can understand anything you like. This is a law office. If you came here for information, you’re in the wrong place.”

David Castleton held up his hands. “No, no. I quite understand. That was just a preliminary remark. You don’t have to tell me, I’ll tell you. You recently handled a case against my grandfather. For a Miss Kelly Blaine. Settled out of court. That case is resolved. Over. Finished.”

“So what’s the point?”

David Castleton took a breath. “I’m interested in Kelly Blaine.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That’s it. I’m not interested in the suit or anything. Just her.”

“What about her?”

“I was hoping you could tell me something about her.”

Steve looked at him narrowly. Could the man really be as young as all that? “I can’t discuss a client with you. You should know that.”

“I do, I do. It’s just-I’m sorry, I’m saying this badly. I don’t want you to discuss her. It’s just-Well, I’d like you to speak to her for me.”

“Speak to her?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to apologize for what happened and see if I can make it up to her in any way.”

“Make it up to her?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

David Castleton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t know. I just thought if I could talk to her. Take her out to dinner. I have contacts. Perhaps I could get her situated in another job.”

Steve nodded. “That seems a very noble sentiment. Why don’t you do that?”

David Castleton shifted position again. “Well, that’s why I came to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I was hoping you could help me get in touch with her.”

“Get in touch with her?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have her address?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

David Castleton tugged at his shirt collar again. Steve wasn’t sure if it was really bothering him, or if it was just a nervous habit. “Well, you see,” he said, “I work for my grandfather. That is, I work for Castleton Industries. So I really work for my father, since grandfather’s retired. That’s another thing. Grandfather may be retired, but Dad never does anything without consulting him. He always has his thumb in-you know what I mean?”

Steve took a breath. “I know what you mean. I just don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“What I’m getting at is, I don’t work at grandfather’s apartment, I work at the company. Kelly Blaine was grandfather’s secretary. She wasn’t part of Castleton Industries. This was something separate altogether. Castleton Industries has no record of her employment. The only one who would have that would be Grandpa and, of course, Phil Danby.”

Steve held up his hand. “Wait a minute. Let me be sure I understand this. You’re saying you want to contact Kelly Blaine, but you don’t want your grandfather to know about it?”

David Castleton tugged at his shirt collar again. “Well, that’s not the way I would have put it.”

“Yes, but that’s essentially it, isn’t it? You just got through saying her address wasn’t in the company records, that only your grandfather would have it. If you could ask him for it you wouldn’t be here.”

David Castleton grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“So, the situation is, you wanna contact Kelly Blaine, and you came here to get her address and phone number.”

“Well, her phone’s not listed.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is. Tell me, did you really expect me to give you this information?”

“Actually, no. I quite understand if you wouldn’t. But she’s your client. You must know how to contact her. I thought if you could call her, give her my phone number. Explain who I am and tell her I want to contact her.”

Steve frowned. “Explain who you are?”

“Yes. I mean the fact that I’m Milton Castleton’s grandson.”

“Wait a minute,” Steve said. “Are you saying Kelly Blaine doesn’t know you?”

“Well …”

“Well what? Have you ever met the woman?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“Well, as I said, I work for Castleton Industries. She didn’t. She worked for grandfather. So, ordinarily I wouldn’t have seen her. But, uh, my father occasionally sends me on errands over there.”

“Oh? So you met her then?”

“No. I never met her, but-”

Steve’s eyes hardened. “Are you trying to tell me you watched her through the window in your grandfather’s office?”

David Castleton reacted as if his tie had just attempted to strangle him. He hooked his fingers inside the collar, tugged it down. “I resent that,” he said. “I resent the implication. I saw Miss Blaine, I thought she was a nice young woman. I’d like to talk to her. That’s all. She doesn’t have to talk to me, but she might. I know you won’t give me her phone number. That’s fine. I’ll give you mine.”

He took a card out of his jacket pocket and set it on Steve’s desk. “That’s why I say if you could speak to her for me. Tell her who I am, that I have the best intentions, and that I’d just like to talk to her. And give her my phone number. If she wants to call me, she can.”

David Castleton got up. “That’s all. That’s all I wanted to say, really. You can’t make her call me. But you could put my case in the best light possible. Point out that calling me wouldn’t obligate her to anything. If she’d at least listen to me and hear what I have to say-well, I’d appreciate it.”

David Castleton nodded to Steve Winslow, nodded somewhat perfunctorily to Tracy Garvin and walked out the door.