Office B-130
New York, New York
Date: September 8, 1908
Name: Miriam Lubovitch
Race: Jewish
Age: 20
Country of Origin: Ukraine
Address: 122 Hester Street, New York, New York.
Subject has passed all tests. In good health.
Recommended candidate: Project Buffalo.
Across the bottom, the page was stamped: APPROVED.
Sam’s insides buzzed. “You know what I’m gonna ask, don’t you?”
Evie nodded. “A deal’s a deal.”
“You know, at times like these, I’d consider making an honest woman of you, future Mrs. Lloyd.”
“I said I’d read it. There’s no need to torture me, Sam.” Evie took the file between her palms and pressed down. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing flared. “Gee, I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t get a thing from this report. Honest, I can’t,” she said, feeling rather put out about it. For her to decide not to read an object was one thing. It was entirely another for a read to feel beyond her capabilities.
“Well, thanks for trying, anyway,” Sam said.
Evie examined the file again. “Office B-130. But there’s no address. That office could be anywhere.”
“I know.” Sam sighed. “Every time we get one answer it leaves us with twelve new questions.”
“What about your creepy man?”
“Do you mean my contact?”
Evie waved his words away. “Contact, creepy man…”
“Last time I saw him, he told me he thought he was being watched.”
“By whom? Gangsters?”
“Don’t know. He just told me to stay away. But this is too important. I gotta try.”
“Sam, did you ever think of asking a reporter to look into this story?”
“Are you crackers? Bring one of those shiny-suit-wearing newshounds into this?”
“But why not? Put one of those dogs on the scent! They’ll find the goods soon enough.”
“Nothing doing. I work alone. With occasional company,” he acknowledged. “But no reporters. Got it?”
Evie put her hands up. “Forget I mentioned it. Oh,” she said, wincing. “What a skull-banger.”
She rested her throbbing head against the train window as the El rattled through city canyons. The last rays of sunlight brightened rooftops and glinted off office windows, reluctant to say good-bye. Down below, the afternoon gloom bathed the bustling city streets in deepening shadows of loneliness. Sam laced his fingers through Evie’s and held fast. It was a small gesture, but Evie felt it everywhere at once.