Changing the Past Read Online Free PDF Page B

would-be rapist. But it obviously was not possible to examine every arrival during the incoming tide of 8:30—9:30. Kellog was not overly concerned about such matters, because the building that bore his name was run by a company that did such things; but he had a way of noticing detail.
    The man came out from behind the curved, chest-high counter and led him to an elevator. He leaned inside the car and was about to punch the button for the top floor when Kellog said, “I’m going to the sixth.”
    â€œVery good, Mr. Kellog.”
    â€œPlease call me Jack.” He saw that he had thrilled the man, whose name he did not know, nor could he remember whether he had ever seen him before.
    The sixth floor was the home of Rodgers, Wirth & Mad-dox, where poor Hunsicker had worked for so many years. When the elevator’s doors opened, Judy the receptionist was speaking to someone on the telephone. She gave him her brief, indifferent stare, then did the double-take of a comedienne and hung up the phone in midsentence.
    â€œGosh,” she said. “Mr. Kellog!”
    He smiled. “You’re Judy, aren’t you?” She was full-figured to the point just before plumpness. She had apple-cheeks and small pouting lips. Hunsicker had never been able to admit to himself that he lusted for her, but sleeping alongside his wife he had had at least one dream in which Judy said to him, “I know you might think this is crazy, but I find you an interesting man.” Kellog himself could not quite see what her charms were. Her eye makeup tended towards the vulgar, and she was wearing huge earrings one of which must be removed for each phone call. But perhaps she’d be inventive in bed, and anyway he had this score to settle for his good old predecessor, who was more than a brother to him.
    â€œJudy, I’m on my way to the airport, going to fly down to Florida for a spring-practice ball game, then hop over to the Virgins for a couple days or however long it takes for me to get bored. It occurred to me that maybe you might like to come along.”
    Judy leaned down to find an enormous purse somewhere below the desk, a big vinyl sack—large enough, indeed, to hold a week’s essentials. She straightened up and said, expressionlessly, “We’re outa here.”
    â€œAren’t you going to tell anybody you’re leaving early?” Kellog disapproved of impulsiveness in others.
    â€œIt’s near enough to closing time,” said Judy, taking his arm. She had proved to be that rare person who addressed him as Jack without being asked. She did not appear to be impressed by the Rolls-Royce and, once inside, turned down champagne in favor of mineral water.
    â€œI’ve always wanted to meet you,” she said, settling into a leather corner. “I’m only working as a receptionist till I can get an opportunity to spread my wings.”
    It turned out she had ideas on urban planning and would love to get her hands on certain properties, of his ownership, in a transition neighborhood. “What we don’t need is more high-priced housing.”
    When they reached the airport Hal the chauffeur, who had rolled his eyes when Kellog emerged from the office building with Judy, drove through a private gateway and right out to the side of the waiting Learjet.
    â€œNow, Judy,” Kellog said, patting the back of her near hand, “you go get into the airplane. The pilot’s name is Ralph. I’ll just have a word first with Hal, here.”
    â€œOkay,” said she. “But if we’re going to be friends, Jack, my name is Jodie, not Judy.”
    Kellog was about to ask her whether she was sure, but then realized that it was the error of Hunsicker, whose profession had been correcting the written mistakes of others.
    When her plump round behind, a little too ample for his taste anyway, had disappeared into the aircraft, Kellog asked Hal to go over and tell Ralph