Footprints by Robert Rayner

until Isora waves them in, because the three of them entering at once might be seen as a threat. They’re also afraid Anderson will recognize them from the encounter at the cottage. If he does, they will apologize for their action.
    The boys hang back as Isora approaches the glass doors. The commissionaire standing just inside opens them with a little bow and says, “Good morning, miss.”
    She nods and smiles. She hopes she looks businesslike, as Lully had suggested. She’s wearing a white linen jacket over a light blue blouse and pleated navy skirt, and carries a briefcase, borrowed from Lully. It’s empty. She makes her way across the lobby, which is high and light and airy, and seems to have more windows than walls, to where a receptionist sits behind a counter. She’s talking into a headset and doesn’t notice Isora’s arrival. Isora waits while the receptionist talks about her plans for the evening. Isora drums her fingers on the counter. The receptionist looks up and lifts a finger, admonishing, teacher style.
    When she finishes her conversation, she says, “Can I help you?”
    Isora starts, “I have an appointment–”
    Something buzzes beneath the counter and the receptionist holds up her finger again. She speaks into the headset. “Reception...Yes, Mr. Anderson.” She presses a switch and says, “Mr. Anderson will see you now.” She looks up.
    Isora starts again. “We represent the Concerned Citizensfor the Amenities of Back River, and we have an appointment with Mr. Anderson.”
    When Isora says “we,” the receptionist looks to each side of her, and Isora says, “My colleagues will be joining me in a moment.”
    The receptionist says, “Your name?”
    â€œIsora Lee.”
    The receptionist speaks into her headset. “Marcia? I have an Isora Lee asking to see Mr. Anderson.” She tells Isora, “Mr. Anderson’s executive assistant will be with you momentarily.”
    Marcia, in a stunningly white blouse and a close-fitting black skirt falling just below her knees, appears through a door at the side of the lobby and says, “Ms. Lee?”
    Isora turns and waves to Drumgold and Harper.
    As they enter, the commissionaire stops them and demands, “State your business, please.”
    Drumgold says, “What’s our business got to do with you?”
    Isora says quickly, “They’re with me. They’re the rest of the deputation.”
    Marcia says, “Let them come.”
    The commissionaire stares at Drumgold before stepping aside. Drumgold nods and smiles at him as he and Harper join Isora.
    Marcia leads them through the door off the lobby and to the end of a hallway. She knocks at a door and a man’s voice calls, “Come.”
    Marcia says, “Mr. Turnbull will see you.”
    Isora says, “But our appointment is with Mr. Anderson.”
    â€œMr. Anderson is away this morning.”
    â€œThe receptionist was talking to him just now,” Isora points out.
    â€œAnd his car’s outside,” Drumgold adds.
    Marcia purses her lips and opens the door. Mr. Turnbull is sitting at a desk filled with papers, files, picture frames, and three telephones. He has thinning sandy hair and his face is jowly and florid. He wears a dark blue suit. He stands as Isora enters and says, “Well...who do we have here?” His eyes flicker over her. Drumgold and Harper appear and he sits abruptly with, “You didn’t say you were bringing me a crèche, Marcia.”
    â€œThe party grew after I called.”
    â€œYou’d better bring my ten o’clock right up.”
    â€œDon’t forget you have the strategic planning executive at ten-thirty.”
    â€œLord, yes. Do you think Carter will budge on the pensions issue?”
    Marcia shakes her head. “You’ll have to do an end run round him or get him off the executive. Why don’t you find him