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Page 13.
Chapter 11.
 "Another editor?" Jeff said aloud in the morning, reading the New York Times. He absently passed a scrap of last night's chicken to his dog Checky. Jeff wore bathing trunks as he reclined in lath-and-vine shade by the pool of his rented house in the suburbs. He frowned as he read:
SECOND BODY IN A CLOCK TOWER
RARITANIA CITY (AP) -- A second editor has been found dead in a clock tower. Police revealed that Robert Courtney, 49, whose mangled body was found in a clock works yesterday afternoon, had been shot two or three times, ruling out suicide or accident. Police said they are pursuing leads, but have as yet named no suspect or motive for the killing. A police spokesman confirmed a rumor that papers were found with the body. "There was no note, suicide or otherwise," the source said. "It appears to have been a manuscript, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything." Asked if there was a connection with the discovery only four days earlier of another victim in a nearby clock tower, the source said: "We are not confirming or denying a connection. Until we establish a suspect and a motive, we cannot rule out coincidence." The source declined to speculate on the fact that both victims were editors with major publishing firms.
Jeff gave his paper a rattle and continued feeding Checky, whose wet muzzle pressed against his thigh. "Well," he told the dog, "I guess by now every editor in the city is probably glancing nervously over his shoulder. Wonder if I should be."
The mixed Lab-Golden Retriever backed out from under the table, looked up, and barked.
"Yes," Jeff said. "You know, Checky, this is something I used to wonder about during those eleventh hour moments of the soul. I have probably rejected ten thousand books in my day."
Woof, woof, Checky said.
"It has occurred to me that one day, some unhappy author is going to..." Just then the phone warbled, and Jeff put aside the paper to strain for the receiver.
"Hi, this is Lexa."
He took a deep breath. "Hi." It made him feel incredibly warm all over that she was calling. It also scared the hell out of him.
"I'm going into the City to do some shopping. I thought if you have time, we could meet for coffee and I could show you around for an hour or so."
"That would be delightful," Jeff said.
Jeff petted Checky minutes later. "Good girl. Let's hope I can keep the powder dry and stay out of trouble long enough to finish my project." He tossed a biscuit off into the yard, and the dog disappeared in search of it with a big woof and a spray of soil from her powerful paws.
"Wow," Jeff said an hour later in front of Aerodynamic Donuts Since 1936.
Lexa smiled and her eyes sparkled at the sight of him. She wore a white summer dress, and white sandals with fine leather straps. White enamel earrings dangled; and she wore a necklace of large, close ivory balls. Her white hat with stiff brim shaded her face and made her violet eyes look mysterious and seductive. "You look real nice," she said.
He spread his arms and looked down at himself. He wore a crisp white shirt, casually opened two buttons. Over this he wore a light, Italian-tailored summer suit of a buff color. Light blue socks, mahogany loafers, a gold watch on a light brown wrist strap, and a black (also Italian) snappy-brimmed hat.
"What's the occasion?" she asked, eyeing his shoulders and slim figure.
He laughed. "I was going to ask you the same question. You look gorgeous."
She laughed. "Well, I have an excuse. I'm meeting my mother in two hours to do some shopping."
Jeff's eyes darted around the street, with its elegant shop windows. For a moment, his vision changed, just a fleeting instant, and everything looked a bit pinker and brighter. Better get my eyes checked, he thought. "I guess in Raritania people dress up to go shopping. My only excuse for not showing up in jeans, sneakers, T-shirt, and baseball cap is that I have a donut date with an attractive woman."
She bumped her purse against him. "Let's go have a donut."
"Those are Flying Wings," he corrected.
Together, by coincidence, they recited: "A donut's a donut, and the world's the hole." Laughing, they entered Aerodynamic Donuts Since 1936.
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