THE EYEMAN

“The convention is over at noon. Why not meet at your place by two? That’ll give us both some time to finish our meeting business.”

“Great. Here’s my address and phone number in case you get lost.” Mary pressed her hand with a deliberate pressure and a slight lingering. Her smile was inviting.

Petersen watched her shapely figure leave the exhibit hall. He went to the pay phone near the rest rooms.

“Jessica? I’m closing up here and should be through by five. I have to meet with some prospective customers. I’ll be home by nine.”

“Okay dear. Don’t bring any gifts from the City. You’re spoiling the kids–and me too. Just keep the presents to out-of-state meetings. Okay?”

“Okay.” He laughed.

Petersen hung up the phone. Jessica did like the gifts from out of state meeting sites as much as the children. He would comply with her wish about not bringing stuff home from New York City, which was really not far from their Long Island home.

Petersen put his suitcases in the trunk of his car at the Corinthian Hotel. His parking bill was paid as part of the hotel cost through midnight. He went back into the hotel and called Mary Ling. It was one-thirty.

“I’m going to jump into a cab so I won’t get lost. I’ll be there in 15-minutes depending on the traffic.”

“Okay. I’m all ready showered and changed. I have all the meeting stuff ready too.”

Getting a taxi from the Hotel entrance was easy. Seventy-First Street was loaded with abutting older apartment buildings. Some had a doorman as security but most did not. There was none at Mary’s address. She buzzed him through the door and was waiting as he emerged from the elevator at the doorway on her third floor apartment.

Petersen looked around the one bedroom unit. A small combination living room and dining room was uncluttered with only the necessary furniture of sofa, parlor chair, and wrought iron wall unit with its TV and supporting a small stereo system. The coffee table was covered with inhalation therapy articles and brochures from the week’s meeting. He draped his coat over the vinyl-covered parlor chair and sat next to her, scanning the contents of the coffee table.

“Should I approach my boss about the demo for the Bennett or should you?” Mary snuggled sideways next to him on the sofa.

“From my experience, I should call and mention your name. I’ll send you my presentation and ask that you to be my assistant and facilitator for the meeting. What do you think?”

“It sounds perfect. I mean, you know best.” She reached with both hands to cradle his head and moved her lips to touch his.

He moved her back against the sofa with his left arm around her back. Mary gave one staccato moan and she went limp in his arms. Petersen laid her head against the throw-pillow and stood up. He placed her legs lengthwise on the sofa and stared at the woman.

“You’d be the perfect model of a healthy VC woman if it weren’t for your eyes.” The voice was not professional or intimate. It was a growl. There was no response from Mary Ling. He didn’t really expect any. “But I can fix that.” The boot knife was protruding from her right chest. He had inserted it to the hilt right under the right breast in a single motion during the kiss.