– 25 –
But when she got to Mr. Caplan’s office there was nowhere to sit and no one to talk to. He didn’t provide chairs for visitors and he was too busy yammering on the phone to even look at Mackenzie.
“... wasn’t supposed to come but in a way I’m glad he broke it up. They had to go and tear that body cast apart. Fact is, there was nothing in it.”
Mackenzie stood still, trying not to look uncomfortable. The receptionist walked in, placed a coffee in front of Mr. Caplan and walked out.
“Naw, just a plaster shell. Coupla nights ago some ditz thought it’d be funny to put him under Jamaican guards. Beat the living shit out of him. Make you puke to look at him, doc said. A shame, a real shame. I wanted him alive, in a cage and on permanent display.”
Mr. Caplan listened briefly to his caller. He still hadn’t looked at Mackenzie.
“Yeah sure,” he continued. “Sure, some little bimbettes got their fucking feelings hurt. Fuck ’em. They go directly from being spoiled little girls to befuddled old ladies without ever having been sentient adults in between. Hey, that reminds me. Hold on.”
He looked at her for the first time.
“Okay, Mackenzie, I forgot what I wanted to see you about but it doesn’t matter. Just wanted to wish you luck, maybe. Off you go. See the wardrobe girl absolutely first thing. Oh yeah, I just wanted to say no arguing. Got it?”
With that he turned back to his phone, his voice trailing off as Mackenzie left. “Yeah yeah, Maxie, I’m still here. Nothing, just another sop to the Religion of Peace. Never, never did we think…”