oak door with the name PRIVATE SOLUTIONS engraved on a metal plate next
to it. The guard pulled out his key and tried to open the door.
“Damn!”
“What is it?” Sawyer asked.
“Key doesn’t work.”
“Isn’t your master key supposed to open any door in the place?”
Sidney asked.
“‘Supposed to’ is right. We’ve had a problem with this guy before.”
“How’s that?” Sawyer asked.
The guard looked at them. “He changed the lock. Management jumped all
over him. So he gave them another key that he said fit the new lock.
Well, I can tell you right now it doesn’t!”
Sawyer looked up and down the corridor. “Any other way in?”
The guard shook his head. “Nope. I can try calling Mr. Page at his
home. Tell him to come on down here and open it up. I’ll ream his butt
good too for pulling this crap. What if there was ever a problem and I
needed to get in there?” The guard slapped his holster importantly. “You
know what I mean?”
“I don’t think calling Page will do any good,” Sawyer said calmly.
“He’s dead. Murdered.”
The blood slowly drained from the young man’s face. “Jesus Christ!
Omigod!”
“Police haven’t been here, I take it?” Sawyer asked. The guard shook
his head.
“How’re we going to get in?” the guard asked, his voice barely above a
whisper as, wide-eyed, he looked up and down the hallway for possible
killers lurking there.
In response, Lee Sawyer hurled his massive bulk against the door, which
splintered under the battering. One more thrust and the lock gave way
and the door burst open, slamming against the inner wall of the office.
Sawyer looked back at the stunned young guard while he brushed off his
overcoat. “We’ll check in with you on the way out. Thanks a lot.”
The guard stood openmouthed for several seconds as the two moved into
the office. Then he slowly walked back toward the elevator, shaking his
head.
Sidney looked at the broken door and then over at Sawyer. “I can’t
believe he didn’t even ask you for a search warrant. By the way, do you
have one?”
Sawyer looked over at her. “What’s it to you?”
“As an attorney, I’m an officer of the court. I just thought I’d ask.”
He shrugged his thick shoulders. “I’ll make a deal with you, Of-ricer:
We find something, you hold on to it and I’ll go get a search warrant.”
Under different circumstances, Sidney Archer would have burst out
laughing, and as it was, Sawyer’s response drew a smile out of her. That
perked up his own spirits.
The office was plain but neatly and efficiently furnished. For the next
half hour they searched the small space, finding nothing out of place or
extraordinary. They did find some stationery with Ed Page’s home
address on it. An apartment over in Georgetown. Sawyer perched on the
side of the desk and surveyed the small area. “I wish my office was
this tidy. But I don’t see anything that’s going to help us.” Sawyer
looked around the room, his expression glum. “I’d feel better if the
place were ransacked. Then at least we’d know someone else was
interested.”
While he was talking, Sidney had made another pass around the room. She
abruptly came back to one corner of the office where a row of
gunmetal-gray filing cabinets stood in a row. She looked down at the
floor, which was carpeted in a decidedly dull beige. “That’s odd.”
Sidney got down on her knees, her face almost resting on the carpet.
She looked at a small gap between the two filing cabinets nearest the
spot she was examining. The other cabinets were butted together.
She put her shoulder against one of the cabinets and shoved. The heavy
cabinet didn’t budge. “Can I get some help over here?” She looked back
‘at Sawyer. He lurched over, motioned her out of the way and shoved the
cabinet clear. “Hit that light over there,” Sidney said excitedly.
Sawyer did so and then joined her. “What is it?”
Sidney moved aside so the FBI agent could see. On the floor where the
cabinet had been was a rust spot, not very large but now clearly