“That’s detective Jack Mason, Ricky old man.” The unwanted guest’s voice rang out harshly in the waiting room. The irony of the American’s voice in his prime mockery of a British accent was evident. The irate secretary exited, and the choleric, though self-assured, detective entered. Jack Mason stalked in. He didn’t beat about the bush.
“Where is she?” He leaned heavily on her desk to look her in the eye. Chloe had once thought his hazel eyes to be kind. Where had she gotten that idea?
“Be so kind as to remove your hat, Jack.” Her forcibly calm tone antagonized him to no end.