Bell moved away from Mrs. Murphy’s desk and stood looking out the window over the rooftops of the city when Alexander walked into the anteroom. He looked more like the bookkeeper of a funeral parlor than the chief investigator who had unraveled many crimes and brought the offenders to full justice. He was a short man, his head barely coming up even with Bell’s shoulders. He wore a coat that was too large and his trousers were baggy. The high collar of his shirt showed wear and sweat stains. His head was devoid of hair except around the temples and at the rear; the eyebrows were trimmed as neatly as his hair. A pair of pince-nez glasses were clipped to the bridge of his nose in front of almost-sad-looking gray-green eyes.

Alexander held out his hand as his lips spread into a smile that was completely lacking in humor. “Mr. Bell, I’m honored to meet Van Dorn’s finest agent.”

Bell didn’t buy the compliment since there was no hint of warmth about it. “The honor is mine in meeting you,” Bell replied, nearly biting his tongue. It was obvious Alexander simply thought of Bell as an interloper into his private territory.

“Please come on back. Before I show you to your new office, we’ll have a talk.”

Alexander abruptly turned and strode stiffly through the door into the inner offices. Mrs. Murphy stood aside and smiled sweetly as they passed.

Alexander’s office was positioned in the only corner with a panoramic view of the mountains; the other offices were small and windowless. Bell observed that they were also doorless, offering almost no privacy. Alexander’s domain was embellished with cowhide sofas and chairs. His aspen desk was expansive and completely barren of paperwork. Though Alexander’s suit was a poor fit and bore wrinkles, he was fastidious about his working habits.

He seated himself in a high-backed chair behind his desk and motioned Bell to sit in an uncushioned wooden chair on the opposite side. The only thing missing for intimidation, Bell thought, was a platform under Alexander’s work space so he could look down on his employees and visitors like a minor god on Mount Olympus.

“No, thank you,” Bell said quietly. “After sitting on a train for two days, I’d prefer a softer seat.” He lowered his long frame onto one of the sofas.

“As you wish,” said Alexander, not pleased with Bell’s superior demeanor.

“You were not here when I worked on a case three years ago.”

“No, I came six months later when I was promoted from our Seattle office.”

“Mr. Van Dorn spoke very highly of you,” Bell lied. Van Dorn had not mentioned him.

Alexander folded his hands and leaned across the empty wasteland of his desk. “I trust he briefed you on the murderer and his operations.”