Day 5

 “Police are dusting for fingerprints,” the reporter in front of the museum was saying as Edith and I had our breakfast on instant oatmeal (impossible to ruin) in front of the TV.

“And the fire dept., “she continued, “has come to the conclusion that the fire alarms may have been set off  on purpose, a felony, as no trace of any smoldering anything has been found. Fortunately, there is no real water damage in some of the administration offices from some of the sprinklers that were also set off, something that can’t be explained as they’re not connected to the fire alarm system, and inaccessible to any prankster.”

(Imagine that!)

“The museum will be closed today, as the investigation continues. If you weren’t with us for yesterday’s newscast, there were some anxious moments when it was discovered that one of the museum’s staff had not been accounted for once everyone had been evacuated...”

The image changed to all of us outside, Miss Bates anxiously looking around for someone as the police and fire truck lights flashed in the late afternoon.

“Miguel, where’s Miguel? Oh this is terrible...just terrible. That poor boy...does he know what a fire alarm is?” she asked me.

I was rather  distressed myself. I’d only just arrived by cab to pick him up from work, and for all knew Lee was lying dead or dying inside a raging inferno. (Even though there wasn’t a trace of smoke or flame that anyone could see, yet.)

Of course, the reporters just had to butt in.

“Miss Bates, Admiral Nelson, is it true that Miguel Crane is trapped inside?”

“I don’t see him anywhere,” Miss Bates kept looking around, “he only started work today. He may be lost. Or he doesn’t know what to do. He...he’s a bit ‘simple’ you know. Oh, I should have spent more time with him,” she wailed, “ but HR said they’d already gone over emergency procedures...”

“If he’d even understand any of them,” one of the employees in a business suit with a name tag said.  “Clive O’ Shaunessy. Accounting. I told everybody” he glared at Miss Bates, “that it wasn’t a good idea to hire him. But she took a fancy to him. I guess it didn’t matter that he was just a stupid Dago.”

“Now wait a minute,” a person from the crowd said, “he may be mentally challenged, but there’s no need to insult his heritage. And Miss Bates was only trying to help him. And isn’t it against the law to discriminate based on ethnic origins?”

“It is,” Miss Bates said, “and it’s also against museum policy for an employee to use any kind of discriminatory defamation against any fellow employee or guest. You’re fired. Mr. O’ Shaunessy.”

“Fired? Why you old bitch! I’ll sue!”

“You do that,” I interjected as Miss Bates began to cry ( she was pretty overwhelmed by the escalating circumstances ) and I embraced her but turned to O’Shaunessy. “I believe you have your walking papers, Mister.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”

“Admiral Harriman Nelson. One of Miguel’s guardians, and Miss Bate’s friend. Now go away and let the rest of us pray that Miguel’s all right.”

“Let me through,” a woman interrupted from deep within the crowd as she squeezed through, “I don’t know if it was him, but a Spanish employee was helping everyone in the children’s section go to the emergency exits.”

“My dolly, I dropped my dolly,” the little girl with her was sniffling.

“Never mind that know,” her mother said, “we’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

“Well, I hope,” O’ Shaunessy leaned toward Miss Bates and I, “that your precious Miguel is all burnt up and dead in there! Leave an opening for a real American.”

It almost came to fisticuffs as the crowd began to boo and hiss at him, when suddenly Miguel appeared from around the corner, carrying, of all things, a doll.

“My dolly!” the little girl ran to him as he knelt and handed it to her. She hugged and kissed Miguel and the mother did likewise.

The crowd erupted in applause.

“Oh for pete’s sake, it’s just a damn doll,” O’ Shaunessy  said. “Get out of my way,” he shoved Lee so hard, that Lee lost his balance and fell.

“No comprendo. No comprendo,” Miguel said very confused as I helped him up.

“It’s all right Miguel. Miss Bates, I think I’d better take Miguel home. He was just about to get off work anyway. And I don’t think the police will be letting anyone back in any time soon.”

“Of course. Oh my dear sweet boy,” she hugged Lee, ruffled his hair, and kissed him on the cheek. “I don’t give a damn what anyone says. You’re a dear. And I’m sure a more  valuable asset to the museum than Mr. O’ Shaunessy could ever have been.”

The crowd applauded again and soon Lee and I were in a cab and on our way home.

He’s upstairs right now. Sleeping in probably. After a long night of downloading all the computer info he’d hacked from some of the offices during his, er..diversion. He also made a few phone calls.

How he managed to get the sprinklers to turn on in those offices is anyone’s guess. One of his spy tricks I’m sure.

“Um, Admiral Nelson?” a familiar voice sounded over the gate intercom. “It’s Mrs. Crane. May I come in?”

“Of course,” I punched the open code for cab to drive up.

In minutes both Edith and I met her, and led her in to sit in front of the roaring fire.

“I...I had no idea Lee had a brother...I want to do anything I can to help. I know Lee’s so busy, that he might not be able to do as much as he wants for that poor boy. I can move to Boston, give Miguel a home...”

“Mon?” Miguel entered the room, in a business suit a couple of sizes to big for him (on purpose) but really limping a little from his fall.

"Is it really you?" she asked.

“No Habla Englase," he flashed her one of his special sniles, usually reserved for only the most important people in his life (I'm proud to say, I'm one of them.)

She stroked his white streaks, which had been made more permanent with a little hair dye. “Your eyes...”

“Yeah. I’m having a whale of a time getting used to them. I have an appointment with the police department this morning....and no, it’s not ‘one of those’. Just a favor for family,” he glanced at Edith and I  affectionately.

“Well,” she put her hands on her hips, “you could at least have told me! I even told the press at my doorstep that I’d do whatever I could to help Miguel.”

“You know, that might come in handy.”

I think I groaned. I was getting a bit overwhelmed by this ‘operation’ myself. Today I had to let Sharkey and the boys ‘bump’ into me at the Oyster House, and now Lee wanted his mother to get involved.

“Are you all right Admiral?” Mrs. Crane asked.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Lee said. “Or he will be. Seems our friend O’ Shaunessy was using company time to do a little genealogical research online. Could simply have been curiosity, or for the museum for some of those old paintings's descendants, but he might also have been setting a trap, by himeself or for someone else if the bill for his personal DNA test kit fans out.”

Just then a cab’s horn indicated Lee’s ride was here.

“C’mon Mom, here’s your chance to shine.”

I have to be honest and say I’m a bit envious. Miguel gets to be doted on by his brother’s mother and  I, on the other hand, have to look forward to four men who are going to 'pester' me (loudly) while I dine with Edith at the Oyster House. No doubt I’ll have to ask my loyal employees to join us.

And pay the their tab.

The things we do for our favorite spy. Even if he's in my employ for this operation. Sort of. He's doing this on his own, as a freebie for me.

Perhaps I should bring a doggie bag home for him after lunch. 

Nah.