The women jumped and gasped when they saw me, surprised, it appeared, to find they were not alone. I hoped none of them recognized Spada’s staff by sight. If they did, I was busted. I calmly held up one finger to signal that I’d only be a minute. My eyes landed on a framed photo on the desk of a white family: husband, wife, and two towheaded toddlers. I flipped the photo facedown. There was no way I could pass any of them off as relatives.

“Fine,” I said to the imaginary person on the other end of the line. “I’ll send you the contract tomorrow by FedEx. It’s nice doing business with you, Andrew.” I put the receiver down, stood, straightened my clothes, then heaved out a sigh. “Whew. Long day, huh, ladies? I didn’t realize it was so late. Time flies.”

“Late,” the taller of the three women said, her gray eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No one here works so late.” Her accent was thick and definitely Slavic, definitely Polish, not Russian. “That’s why we clean first here.” She held up a list attached to a clipboard. “See? First.”

“Then I’ll get out of your way,” I said.

Her eyes stayed narrowed. “The door was locked. Yes?” “Yes, it was locked. I locked it.”

“You have key?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys to my apartment, flashed them. “Right here. You didn’t expect me to work in here, a woman alone, with the door wide open, did you? That’s not safe. I could get assaulted, mugged, God forbid, murdered. But if you’re still concerned about it, I’ll just call Mr. Spada and he can explain to you why I had to work late when I told him almost a month ago that I had theater tickets for tonight.” I shrugged dejectedly. “Good money down the drain.”

I moved for the phone, hoping I wasn’t going to have to make another fake call.

“Everything good,” she said, the others concurring with smiles and nods. “We come back.”

I smiled, slipped politely past them. “No need. I’m finished. Good night, ladies.” I turned back, remembering the phone and my prints on it. “Oh, I forgot. There’s a cold going around the office. Would you ladies mind wiping the desk and phone down really well for me? I’d hate for anyone to get sick.”

They nodded, smiled, then went to work. I stood for a moment and watched as one of the ladies began wiping down the desk with disinfectant, running the rag across the blotter, picking up the receiver, wiping it clean. Not foolproof, but good enough. I’d be long gone by the time they got around to the family photo.