More Harry Hogan stories!
The office door opened slowly and Harry Hogan watched as a neatly-dressed woman stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind her. Not wanting to startle her, he waited until she turned and saw him.
“Good afternoon. Are you Mr. Hogan, the private detective?”
Harry nodded. “That’s me, have a seat.” He pointed at the chairs opposite his desk. “What can I do for you, Mrs…?”
“Nora Allen… and I’d like you to try to solve something for me, please.”
“That’s what we’re here for.”
She frowned slightly as she looked around. “I thought you worked alone.”
Right on cue, the door opened and Bertie stepped inside, closed the door, and went to her desk. As she was pulling out her chair to sit down, she saw the woman. “Mrs. Allen! I haven’t seen you since I retired. Do you still visit the library?”
“Yes, but I miss seeing you there.” Mrs. Allen smiled. “The new librarian is very pleasant… but she’s young and we don’t have much in common to chat about.”
Bertie laughed. “I know what you mean, but I suppose that’s natural with any age difference. Many younger people don’t seem to have much interest in chatting – unless it’s through some sort of technology.”
“Most young people today would be lost without their technical gadgets,” Harry said, “and some adults too.”
“I agree.” Mrs. Allen nodded. “It’s nice to see you, Ms Blackett, and I hope we’ll have time to chat next time we meet. However, I came to see Mr. Hogan and I don’t want to waste his time.”
Harry chuckled. “Relax, Mrs. Allen. I opened this office after I retired as something to do. We’re not on the clock and we’ll take on most anything that isn’t a police matter.”
Mrs. Allen’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I know who you are. My niece has mentioned you many times. She’s the one who convinced me to come see you. She said if you can’t help me, no one can.”
“That’s nice. Do I know your niece?”
“Maybe not, but you know her husband – Detective Parkinson.”
“Your niece is married to Bruce? I met her a few times at police functions. It’s a small world. Now, what is it you want me to solve?”
She sighed. “I know this is going to sound silly, coming from a woman my age, but… I seem to have a secret admirer.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose slightly and he noticed that Bertie’s eyes were turned their way. “Why should it be any different for a woman your age than any other age?”
“There are no age limits on romance, Mrs. Allen,” Bertie said.
Mrs. Allen’s eyes widened and she looked slightly shocked. “Romance? Oh dear! No, I don’t think it’s like that at all.”
“Perhaps you should tell us what’s happening,” Harry said.
“Someone has been leaving gifts on my front bridge. I didn’t think of it as a romantic gesture but now…” She shook her head. “No, I honestly don’t think so.”
“Mrs. Allen,” Bertie said, “do these incidents make you feel uneasy?”
“No. They’re just thoughtful little gestures. But I’m very curious about who’s behind it.”
“What kind of gestures are we talking about?” Harry asked.
