Chapter Four
A bizarre but titillating chill gripped me as I walked up two flights of stairs to the third floor of the ancient office building. The brick structure was an old Craftsman style building that was likely very fashionable when it was new. The beveled glass, the rich dark hues of the woodwork and geometric tiles on the lobby floors were once the height of chic. However, a reemergence of their popularity in 21st century design did nothing to make the old building look updated. It was merely shabby, though in a pleasant sort of way; a way that made me think that at any moment I’d be knocking on Sam Spade’s office door, to which he’d answer with a smirking, “Nice to see you, doll face.”
I’m afraid there was no Sam Spade at 216 First Street, Suite 201, just Tom Quinn, Private Detec
