Broomstick - Part Twelve

I ran up the sidewalk towards the Peacelock HQ. As much as I hated this, it might be the only way. I had to get police help quickly.

I hurried in through the door and brushed past several people to the front desk in the lobby. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait in line,” the receptionist informed me, a cat in a gray suit.

“No time,” I told her. “I need to see Tom Thumb, it’s an emergency and I think someone’s about to be murdered.”

“I’ll notify him,” the receptionist responded. “Now, I have people in line.”

“No, do it now,” I insisted. The cat at the desk ignored me, so I left and journeyed down the hall. I passed a “No visitors beyond this point” sign but ignored it and acted like I worked there. Not strictly legal, but someone’s life was on the line.

I knocked on the closed door to Tom Thumb’s office. “Come in!” he yelled.

I opened the door, and he started in his chair. “James Wolfe!” he exclaimed. “You’re not supposed to be in here. I’ll escort you out!”

“Tom,” I growled, “Anthony Shipton is about to be murdered, if he isn’t dead already.”

“I’ll get a squad carriage,” Thumb told me. “You’re not off the hook, Wolfe!”

I sat down in a chair in front of his desk. “I don’t care. Someone’s going to be dead if we don’t get to him right this instant.”

Thumb got up from his position behind his desk and made a few quick scries. “Okay, Wolfe, we’ve got a team. Snow White and the ugly duckling volunteered.”

“The ugly duckling?” I chuckled.

            “It’s a nickname,” Thumb explained cryptically. “All right, let’s go.”