Pall Mall
The second floor hallway of The Broadside was filled with the stink of Pall Malls and the symphonic rise and fall of a typewriter. Jerk stifled a sneeze. He hated the crematory stink of cigarettes. “New tenant’s going to die of emphysema before he finishes that book,” he muttered.
“So it goes.” Kid said, waving their hand in front of their face as if to dispell the smell.
Their destination was at the opposite end of the main hall, Suite 201. “Broadside Properties.” Kid said, reading the gold leaf lettering on the inside of the frosted chicken wired glass panel on the door. “Sounds respectable.”
“Of course it does.” Jerk said, toying with the key. The lock was tricky; another task for the facility manager to add to his to-do list. “It’s a respectable business.” The lock clicked open, he turned the door handle, and reached inside, turning on the light before going inside.
“Of course,” Kid’s seriousness was theatrical as they walked behind Jerk into the suite. “With perfectly normal dealings.”
“We do what we do.” Jerk said.
Kid studied the room. The reception area looked like it was expecting the secretary to return at any moment. There was a small cabinet with an old electric hot pot, tea cups, and a box of tea in the corner next to the secretary’s desk. Behind the desk was a painting of The Broadside as it must have looked 90 years ago, soon after construction. No windows.
The door behind them locked with a loud click. Kid jumped, startled, eyes on Jerk and the door. “Sorry,” Jerk apologized. “Just in case anyone tries the handle because the light’s on.”
“Claustrophobia.” Kid said. The looked around again. “Almost everything in here looks new.”
“Tiny brings his out-of-town business associates up here.” Jerk had walked over to a door to the left of the desk marked ‘Storage.’ “Keeps it up to date.”
“‘Storage?’ Does that room have a window or something?” Kid looked back at the exit. Jerk had unlocked the ‘Storage’ door’s deadbolt. A light turned on automatically. A two-foot hallway ended in another door with a push button combination lock and another deadbolt. Kid inched back towards the exit. “Can I wait outside?”
Jerk turned and blinked. “You want to get some water and make tea?” He was winding the hall door key off the keyring. “When you come back you can peek inside, OK?”
He handed Kid the key. “There’s styrofoam cups and lids in the cabinet.”
Kid stood there, looking at the key in their hand for a second. “OK.”