A few months had passed since that day in the kitchen of her paternal family's estate. That insufferable man had given her questions many answers once she promised not to hurt him too bad, of course. Those answers had been awkward and at the end she wished she had never asked them. But, she was also glad that she had. Now all that was left was finding out what happened to her father; which was why she was standing outside a police station in Upper Manhattan, near where her father had died. She hoped that they would have the answers to what she wanted to know. But she also knew that those answers might not be what she needed to hear.
She slid a smile onto her face and stepped into the front lobby of the large police station. Police officers moved about and people sat on benches or in chairs around the large place. From where she stood by the doors she could see the loft space with different detectives. The smile was still on her face as she stepped up to the front desk. The cheery woman was on the phone and she motioned for Ellie to wait a minute. When she hung up the phone she turned to Ellie with another smile.
"Can I help you?"
She pushed her Irish accent into her voice, "My name is Ellie Hayden. I'm looking for Detective Carson."
"Up those stairs," She motioned behind Ellie, "and it's the fourth door on the left. Have a nice day."
Her green eyes looked about her before she turned and crossed over to the stairs. She took them two at a time and paused at the top. This needed to happen, she needed to know and she wasn't going to be afraid of what she found out. A deep breath and she walked passed different offices until she came to Carson's. The door was open and lead into the small cramped office, much like her editor's, that was filled to the brim, it seemed, with boxes upon boxes of files and what looked donuts. He was another of those stereotypical detectives. The man she assumed was Detective Carson sat behind his desk. He had changed since she had last seen him three years ago. Now his hair was graying, but he was still the thin man she remembered. Her hand knocked against the wood of the doorframe and the man jolted like he was shocked.
"Detective Carson?" she asked though she already knew he was.
"Yes," he stood, "Can I help you?"
She stepped into the office and shook his hand, "Ellie Hayden, you worked on my father's case."
The man swallowed and he paled slightly. This was where things would get complicated, she decided. Something was obviously wrong and now she just had to be sly enough to figure it out without him realizing. She motioned towards on the seats in a silent question and he shot a furtive look around before he nodded for her to sit.
"So Ms. Hayden, what can I help you with?"
She lowered her eyes demurely, "I know that three years ago I wished not to know anything of the case, but I think now I'm ready."
"Ms. Hayden, it's not as easy as you-"
"I'm a journalist Detective, I'm well aware of how things go in the world of law enforcement and believe me when I tell you that we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Be as firm as possible and nothing will fail you, she coached silently as the detective seemed to grow paler. That was her first clue that he wasn't comfortable at all with any of this. It meant that he was possibly not in the pocket of the Irish but in the pocket of the enemy. There was only one way to test this theory.
"Detective, all you need to do is tell me who murdered my father." Step one. "Please remember that I have to a right to know what happened. After all I was injured as well that day."
"I'm sorry Ms. Hayden, but I was requested by relations of yours not to mention-"
She cut him off again, "That's a lie and you know it. The only way they would be able to request that is if I was unstable and clearly I'm not."
"Detective, do you honestly think that I won't find out? You see I happen to have friends in high places and if I wished to I could go over your head and get access to those files without your permission." Step two completed.
The whole time she spoke her voice was relaxed and without her English accent. Instead she had the Irish accent that she had come to use on the majority of occasions. She smirked as the Detective shifted in his seat. He was uncomfortable and she was rejoicing on that fact.
"Was it the Italians?" She asked softly. "A simple yes or no will suffice."
There was still no answer from him and she found her patience wearing thin. For a moment she thought about following through with her threat but she squashed that idea just as quickly. He needed to know that she meant business and that there was no way out of this.
"Detective Carson, an answer please."
She stood, "Thank you."
Confidence showed in the way she walked as she walked down the hall to the open Athenian airport. She actually enjoyed coming to Greece, it was a beautiful vacation spot, but today she was here for business and business alone. As she left the airport she slid out of her warm pea coat and draped it over her left arm; in her left hand was the straps to her black duffel bag and slung over her right shoulder was the strap to her messenger bag. While confidence reigned in her movements, excitement reigned in her eyes and they flashed with sparks of silver. A smile was on her face and it stayed there as she slid into the waiting taxi.
Business was something she loved and the newspaper business wasn't the only business she enjoyed being a part of. Her hold of the basics of the Grecian language was firm as she requested to be brought to the City Press office, one of Athens major newspapers. There was no sign of stress or anger on her face though she had been called away from a 'family' meeting to go to this newspaper meeting. While she didn't particularly like what had happened there was nothing she could do about it. Minutes passed and finally she was handing euros to the driver as she exited the taxi. Four hours. That was how long she would be here and then she could travel on to New York and meet up with her family for a bit of fun. Her slim hand reached out and opened the glass doors to the building. Eyes appraised the reception area with a hint of disdain; this was certainly not someplace she would enjoy walking into everyday. Her feet carried her towards the reception desk and already she could tell that the receptionist wasn't going to like her; eyes speak volumes.
"Ellie Pryor, I'm here for a meeting with you Mr. Cokinos."
It was a good thing she remembered to use her mother's last name instead of her father's. While she liked the last name Pryor—the signature was easy—she knew that Hayden wasn't the name she was known for in the family publishing company. Her legacy wouldn't like to be associated with the Irish Mob, even if she certainly was.
"He's in a meeting at the moment."
"Are you saying that you don't see my appointment on that computer?"
"No Miss, I'm just saying he's in a meeting; you'll have to wait to meet with him," her voice was cold.
She loved this part of her job, "I'm afraid I don't have time to wait, so you'll have to tell him that either I meet with him this minute or he's going to have to find someone else to sponsor this company." She ended with one of her smiles.
"Yes Miss." It took a few minutes but then she was back, "He'll meet with you now. Fifth floor, someone will be there to direct you."
"Thank you," she snickered to herself. "By the way lose the pinstripe pants, they don't do anything for your figure."
Oh yes, she totally loved this job. Everything was just so spectacular in this line of work…except for the headaches that seemed to appear out of nowhere with no warning whatsoever. There was an extra bounce in her step as she walked towards the stairs; she absolutely despised elevators, unless she had to go above the tenth floor while wearing heels. She glanced down at her feet, flats were wonderful. Once inside the stairwell she took the steps two at a time until she reached the fifth floor. There was no door leading out onto the floor, but she could see why; the floor was under construction. Her shoulders slumped in disdain as she looked at the dust that seemed to have fallen everywhere and then at her black suit.
"At first I thought this day was going to be wonderful, but now I think it will be horrid."