Live Bait by Ted Wood

Straight.
    She repeated my comment into the telephone, then hissed a few words and hung up. "I'm afraid Mr. Straight's secretary says he can't entertain any business exchange without a proper introduction."
    It was too good a chance to pass up. "I don't need entertaining, I'm here with a message." She opened her mouth to speak but I wagged a finger at her. "I'll just wait right here until he comes out."
    She pursed her lips angrily, dialled again and informed the person at the other end that they were stuck with me. So far as I could tell there were no other exits from the offices, except through this lobby. I had him cornered and we all knew it.
    She hung up again and said "Mr. Straight's secretary will see you."
    "Good." I nodded approvingly. "Now we're starting to get somewhere." I was expecting a clone of the receptionist. With just the same degree of pressure I was sure I could get by her and in to see Straight. Instead, the inner door opened and an elegant woman of about thirty walked out. She was Chinese, taller than average, dressed in a creamy silk blouse, tied at the throat, and a silk skirt. Her hair was bobbed in a cut that must have been intended to look practical but which was more strikingly feminine than waist-length curls. I looked at her and rose to my feet as if I'd been hooked. Any man would have found her beautiful. In my mind she brought out some echoes that made her irresistible.
    She came over and held out her hand. "Good afternoon, my name is Yin Su. I work for Mr. Straight." Her English was unaccented but had the slightly metallic quality that let me know it was her second language.
    Even a storm trooper would have taken her hand. I did it, working hard not to eat her up with my eyes. I stayed in character to say, "Yeah, well, a pleasure, Su, Tony sent me to talk to your boss."
    She remained charming, the princess with the barbarian. "I keep Mr. Straight's calendar for him. If you'll give me your name, and perhaps an idea of what this is about, I'll arrange an appointment."
    "Yeah, well, that'd take too long." I was growing disgusted with myself. I had checked her hands and they were free of rings. Had we met under any other circumstances I would have been concentrating on getting to know her, not the man she worked for.
    "He's very busy," she explained patiently. "He's one of the senior partners here and I have to be very careful of his time." I said nothing and she pressed on, losing just a touch of her smoothness. "His time is very valuable."
    I was melting under the gaze of those cool brown eyes but I did what I had to do. "Yeah. Tony told me that. But he gave me a message for him."
    She tried again, still calm. "Perhaps it would help if you could tell me who Tony is."
    "Cy knows."
    She smiled again, a polite tightening of the corners of her mouth. "Well, we seem to have a problem. Mr. Straight can't take time away from his work to see you and you won't make an appointment."
    "So I'll just sit here until he comes out. He'll see me then," I said. "Thank you for your trouble, but this is private."
    "Very well." She nodded, smiling one last time, and left. I sat down again and reached for the magazines. All the others were law journals. I sighed. This could turn into a long afternoon.
    The woman at the desk made a point of being busy, glancing at me slyly over the notes she was typing. I ignored her.
    A lot of my life has been spent waiting. Sometimes beside a twelve-inch Cong trail in Viet Nam, in monsoon rain that beat you half senseless, sometimes in the back of unheated vehicles in laneways outside fur warehouses in a Toronto January. I can handle the kind of discomfort most civilians never understand. By comparison, this was heaven. The couch was soft, there was Muzak, bland wallpaper music from the early sixties. I could have sat there all night. All I needed was patience and a forgiving bladder.
    The receptionist made a couple of calls out and I listened carefully. I hadn't seen any security