Jim Forest strode through the center of the shouting cubicles of the Federal Bureau of Investigation office in Chicago. He held his long, brown coat under his right arm and the sleeves of his white, collared shirt were rolled up to the elbows. The legs of his Brown slacks brushed against one another as he sped across the cheaply carpeted floor.
Another day in the office. Nothing had happened for months. He doubted today would be any different.
As he walked, a young woman of around twenty fell in step beside him.
“Mornin’ Dona.”
“Hi Jim. You heard the news?”
He glanced at her, never breaking stride, “What news?”
“Golly, Jim, don’t you read the paper?”
“Not since 1942.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re an agent of the FBI for cryin’ out loud. How ya gonna know what’s goin on in the world?”
“That’s what I hired you for. So what’s this news?”
Dona shoved a news paper into his hands and pointed to the headline, Time Thief Escapes!
Jim slapped the paper down against his leg. “You gotta be kiddin me. I thought we had this clown.”
“Apparently not. The chief is steamin in his office wonderin how this happened.”
Jim turned suddenly and threw his coat over the chair in his cubicle and tossed the paper onto his desk.
“Word is the chief wants to get you on the case.”
“”What about Tom? Didn’t he work this case for three years?”
“Chief said he wasn’t able to handle the case. He’s too close to it.”
Jim shook his head and arranged a stack of papers into a neat pile. Today would be a long one. “Thanks Dona.”
The secretary left the cubicle and went about her business. Jim ran a hand through his hair and plopped down into his chair, blowing out a puff of air in exasperation. Looks like there would be some action after all. Hopefully…
He roved his gaze around at the stacks of paper that littered his desk and floor before his eyes fell onto a small, wooden framed picture. He bent forward and picked it up. The black and white image of his wife and six year old daughter washed over him.
He felt a peace and calm come and he breathed a sigh again, “Ok, chief.”
Heated sounds floated out from the glass window of the wooden door when he walked up to the office of Chief Frank Sorrows, which was written in bold black letters on the shaded pane. He came a few steps closer and set his ear near the glass.
“…locked up so tight even Capone wouldn’a been able to break outta there! You were there, you saw it. C’mon, Louie, don’t pin this on us.”
“I’m sorry, Frank, but the mayor wants someone’s head for this. He wants your head and there’s nothin I can do about that. It’s up to you. He’s experienced three robberies from this guy and he doesn’t want another one. You haven’t even turned up the missing money. What do you want me to do?”
“We’re workin on that, Lou! I’m just waitin for Jim, my top agent, to get here. We’ll brief him and set him out on the scoundrel’s tail.”
There was a pause.
“Alright, Frank. You got three days. Best I can do. Don’t screw it up this time.”
Jim stepped away form the door and pretended to have just arrived as Louie, the DA, walked out.
“Oh! G’mornin’ Jim. The chief’s waitin for you.”
Jim jumped forward and grabbed the door from the man and nodded with a smile on his face. This faded as he walked into the gloomy, smoky atmosphere of the Chief’s office.
