Showing Tolly the painting

Just how old do you think I am?

I went up to Tolly's office, and took the opportunity while I was alone to check on my bug, dust it, make sure that it was still in place, and didn't need a new battery. Then I checked the side door to the other office. It was unlocked. So, with a glance over my shoulder to make sure that Tolly wasn't coming in, I opened the door and went in. This had been my first opportunity to try that. Every other time I was in the office, Tolly had also been there.

The first impression I had was of a much smaller room. Then I looked around, and realized that it was about the same size, just a bit more crowded. Several filing cabinets all around, some with drawers so full that they could not close, and over-sized desk and chair, with a computer. And a couch, with magazines on a shelf within easy reach above it. Easy reach for Tolly, that is. It would be more of a reach for me.

I sat down at the computer for a moment, feeling tinier than ever with my legs dangling from the chair, and my fingers spread over the keyboard. I couldn't even place my fingers over the home row without stretching. I chuckled a bit. And here he thought he was hiding his wealth. Sure, he appeared to live simply, but a little scratching of the surface kept turning up things like this custom keyboard.

I slipped a bug in behind the computer, then went to look at the shelf of magazines, taking off my shoes and standing on the couch.

I don't know what I was expecting, but a whole shelf full of well-thumbed travel magazines wasn't one of them. Not just glossy picture ones for tourists, either. There were bus schedules, train schedules, lots of detailed maps, things that a serious traveler would need. Most of them were in the original language. I just stared at them for a bit, forgetting where I was, what I was doing there.

This wouldn't interest my boss, it wasn't anything he could use, but I was fascinated. I stood there thumbing through things for far longer than I had intended. I was just planning on glancing at things, plant a bug, and then head back to the other room. But I didn't move from the spot until I heard Tolly clear his throat behind me.

"Find something interesting, Ms. Hoi?" he said, in a low, growly tone.

"Oh!" I turned to him. "I'm so sorry, but the door was open," (true, if you count unlocked as open) "and I was curious." Also true. I slipped off the couch, and leaned against it to put my shoes back on.

"Hmm." He peered down at me, then looked around. Nothing beside the magazines was disturbed.

"Do you like to travel, Mr. McLichtensen?" I said, to distract him.

"Just dreaming, mostly, Ms. Hoi," he said. "I haven't had the opportunity to travel in several years.

"Do you speak all these languages?" I persisted.

He glanced at the shelves, then glowered at me again. "A little bit, anyway. I can read them all, but the pronunciations can be a bit rusty at times." He then gestured to the other office. "Shall we go sit down, Ms. Hoi? I understand you wanted to speak to me?"

"Oh, of course." I was still blushing from being caught. I went through the door, and Tolly followed.

"Next time, Ms. Hoi, ask before invading my space. There is naught here that I wouldn't care if you saw, but I would have preferred the opportunity to straighten up a bit before showing it to someone."

"Yes, of course," I said, "but the door was open."

"So you said," he said, as he firmly shut the door behind him. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"It isn't so much talk, as show you. I found a painting in the Crypt."

"There are lots of paintings in the Crypt," Tolly said, raising his eyebrows.

"I know. The painting is one of you."

"Really?" Tolly's eyebrows rose even further. "That must be interesting."

"I'd like you to look at it."

"If I must," he said, with a sigh. "But really, there isn't a painting down there less than three hundred years old. Do you really think that there could be a painting of me there that I didn't know about?"

"But it does look just like you," I insisted. "I would like you to see it."

"If you insist," he said. He led me to the door. "After you, Ms. Hoi."

As we made our way down to the Crypt, I asked him, "Belinda says that you were up at that little parkland you own to the north."

"Among other places, yes," Tolly said. "What of it?"

"I just wondered why. What do you find to do there?"

He looked at me. "Why do you care? There's naught to see there but the woods and the water."

"I . . . um." I stumbled. I didn't want to lie to this man. But I didn't care. If he went up there twice a day to meditate, I'd say just let him. It was my boss who wanted to know. I don't know if he wanted to blackmail Tolly, steal from him, or buy into it. It probably depended on what I found. And so far, I found nothing. Trees and water, like he said. That's all. I didn't think there was anything else there to find, that my boss was on some sort of wild goose chase. But I couldn't tell him that.

"No matter," Tolly said, as we exited the elevator. "Let's go look at that painting you found, Ms. Hoi." He said it in the tone of one humoring a child.

I led the way into the Crypt, Tolly coming in immediately on my heels. He looked around and whistled. "You have been busy down here, Ms. Hoi."

"Of course. Let me set up that painting for you."

He poked around a little, while I set it up. I kept an eye on him, in case he disrupted the work I'd done, but he just pulled a couple things out and put them back again.

"I like the labels you are putting on the slots, Ms. Hoi," he said. "It seems you really are efficient at this."

"Thank you, Mr. McLichtensen," I said, giving him a formal bow. It wasn't quite the same thing as saying I was useful, but I'd take it.

"Is this the painting?" Tolly looked over at the easel where I'd set it up. With him standing right there next to it, the resemblance was even more marked.

He studied it for a long moment, then turned to me. "He is quite the handsome fellow, isn't he? But why would you think this," he picked up the card and read it, "Tolbert Lichtsol, who lived a thousand years ago, was me?"

"He just looked like you," I said. "He looks even more like you than I thought."

He raised his eyebrows. "Just how old do you think I am, Ms. Hoi?"

I flushed and bowed my head to cover my confusion. "I know it's silly. But is he an ancestor or something like that to you?"

He studied the painting some more. "It certainly looks like he could be, doesn't it? But I'm pretty sure I have no ancestors with that name." Then he gave one of his booming laughs, which echoed through the Crypt loudly and made him stop short. "Can you imagine me decked out in such folderol?" he said more quietly. "I wouldn't be comfortable with all that at all. My ears aren't even pierced."

I took a glance at his ears. No sign of them ever having been pierced. "I see that." Then a big sigh. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. McLichtensen."

"Not at all," he said. Then he stood looking at me for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I did want to talk to you when I came in, Ms. Hoi. I was going to talk to you upstairs, but finding you in my inner office threw me off stride."

"I'm sorry, Mr. McLichtensen."

He waved that off. "That's nothing, Ms. Hoi. I just got to thinking, we got off to a bad start."

"I wouldn't say so," I said, smiling.

He smiled back at me. "Perhaps not. But there was no need for me to insist that you call me Mr. McLichtensen. I should have told you this some time ago. I'd far prefer that you call me Tolly, Ms. Hoi."

"Only if you call me Glorina," I said, giving him a formal bow.

"Glorina. Of course." He bowed back.

I smiled, 57 friendly/confident, at him. "What made you change your mind?"

"Oh, it's naught worth mentioning. I should never have insisted in the first place. Perhaps I could make it up to you by having supper with me tonight? And tomorrow I'll take you up to see that little parkland, as you call it."

"I'd be delighted to," I said. I smiled a confidential smile. "I hope that we can become good friends."

He smiled back. "Put this handsome fellow back, will you, and then take the rest of the day off."

"I'd already finished for the day," I told him.

"Now don't you be doing that," he said in a mock-angry tone. "How can I be the benevolent boss if you've already taken the time off?"

I laughed dutifully.

We chatted lightly until we got back upstairs. He bowed to me as he left me at my room. "I will see you soon, Glorina."

I bowed back. "I look forward to it, Tolly."

I was happy. For a moment I forgot everything except that, and reveled in it. Then, as I closed the door behind me, it occurred to me that with everything he had said, he had never actually denied that the painting was of him. I shook my head. That didn't matter; the whole idea was impossible. What had I been thinking?

"I wonder why he changed his mind?" I said to myself. Well, I could see what I could find out.

I pulled out the recordings from the bugs and looked at them. There was only a little bit from Tolly's office. One bit was from our conversation earlier, with an added "Hmm? What?" that I hadn't heard as Tolly entered the room. He sounded angrier, or perhaps hurt, than he had seemed at the time. And earlier, hours earlier, I found a bit with him singing, if you could call it singing, . . . at a distance. Probably in the other office. I smiled a bit as I listened. Enthusiastic, and decidedly off-key. I kept it going. After a while, it occurred to me that the tune, what there was of it, was familiar. "No, couldn't be," I muttered. Why would Tolly be singing a thousand-year-old love song? I had studied some of the most popular music during some of the eras which I worked in, as it helped to understand the whole background. I shook my head. This man had surprising depths at times. Then he made an exclamation, and after that, I heard nothing else.

I turned to Jasin's office. First, there was a bunch of stuff with Jasin on the phone with various people. I forwarded through that for now. Later I'd go through and take notes, see if there was anything that could be gleaned from those half-conversations that my boss could use.

". . . her trust," suddenly came Tolly's voice when I stopped to listen again. So he had been there!

I backed it up until I found where Tolly entered the room. He and Jasin exchanged some friendly bickering as Tolly settled down on that old couch in Jasin's office. I could hear the springs creaking.

"What's bothering you, sir?" Jasin said after a moment.

"I got that report back," Tolly said.

"Which report was that?"

"Don't you remember? Investigating Glorina Hoi."

Investigating . . . me? Oh no, that could be bad. Especially if my boss knew about it. I struggled to keep control of my breathing.

"Oh, yes, that one," Jasin said. "What did they find out?"

"Naught," Tolly's voice said in disgust. "Absolutely naught."

I relaxed a bit, my breath coming easier.

"Naught? Oh, nothing?" Jasin said. "That's good, isn't it?"

"No, they should have found something. But it's like she totally vanishes from the face of the earth between jobs. There should be something to find, apartment, roommates, boyfriend, something."

I wondered at the slight emphasis on the word 'boyfriend'. I wish I had totally vanished between jobs. It would have been far easier.

"That's . . . interesting," Jasin said. "I think . . . you might have been right. Something's wrong somewhere about her."

"But naught that we can distinguish," Tolly said. "No knowing what, if anything, we can do about it."

"Or should do about it," Jasin said. "It might turn out to be none of our business."

"Maybe, if I gain her trust, she'll be willing to open up to me about what's going on," Tolly said thoughtfully.

"You could start by letting her call you Tolly, sir," Jasin said. I wondered if he realized how he sounded.

"Call me Tolly?"

"Yes. Do you realize how painful it sounds for her to go around carefully calling you 'Mr. McLichtensen', and for you to answer her 'Ms. Hoi'?"

"I had almost forgotten that," Tolly muttered. Then, louder, "I'll think about it."

"I'd say talk to Jelana. See if she or Daved have any ideas."

"I'll do that," he said. Then he and Jasin went on to talk over other things I wasn't interested in.

I frowned. Jelana? Daved? They weren't in the files at all. No one had mentioned them. Who could they be? Had he seen them at his little park? But that was so far out from town. And he said he had gone other places as well. So that meant little. For a moment, I wished I could bug the park. but it was too far away for my bugs to reach.

Then I smiled. So, he was going to try to earn my trust? Well, two could play at that game.

I rehearsed various cover stories, to pull out at need.