Antique Shaving Stand

because I write for fun I try all sorts of styles and genres, this is my last attempt.
(1)
Aitch Diamond was lying on the sofa in brown leather watch reflections of the cars go raindrops on the window flash. The grandfather clock in the hall struck eight, the movement gently to the bathroom. At a quarter past eight, he had washed, shaved and dressed and brewed a cup of coffee without sugar. Shaz When Green opened the door to the half, he was at his desk, eating and drinking his second cup of coffee buttered toast.
Morning hip.
He looked over brown framed glasses.
"Mornin 'Shaz."
Shaz, wide eyes looked around the room that was half office, half of hip room. .
"God what a mess. It will take a week to clean this place. "
Aitch looked around, surprised. "This is not so bad." He protested.
Shaz took his dirty shirt, socks and pajamas out of the sofa, they carry them at arm's length the hamper in the bathroom. Aitch looked back, enjoying the way his pale gray silk dress clung to her body, shimmering at every high heels, curling brown hair just below the neck. He had made a pass at her when she arrived two years ago as its new secretary, but he was told in confidence, but on good terms exactly what she thought of bosses who engaged in sexual harassment. He had since discovered, it proved too good secretary to lose the whim of an arm around the waist. Well.
"No post today?" He asked, watching her back as she took two empty wine bottles in the kitchen.
"He never comes before nine o'clock." The statement was flat, no trace of impatience, though she knew he was aware that the factor known as regular as the grandfather clock in the hall. She looked, scouring the room for more damage. "Nothing to do?"
"Not much. I report Alan Dawson, and wrote what I have done so far on the McDonald case. Thanks to you now. It is on your desktop. He said.
His office, smaller than hers, sat at right angles to discrete sound in the opposite corner of the kitchen, under a photo sepia skip his grandfather.
"You have not yet made a start on the case of industrial espionage." Shaz commented.
"No, I know I did not. Only a small business. The director is likely to put his papers in a safe place and forgot where he put them. "
Shaz turned from him to press the computer button.
Aitch opened his laptop and began to play solitaire. He pressed "mute" that Shaz could not hear "Boo" when he lost a match. He has always done, but she knew about the lonely anyway.
At nine o'clock Shaz collected post. Four ordinary letters and a phone bill when it first opened. She frowned. "Have you been ringing lines porn?"
"What?"
"There are plenty of 090 numbers on that."
"Porn?
"That's what 090 issues usually are."
"Absolutely not. Absolutely not." Said hip. "They were wrong. Write to the telephone population. "
"I will." Tight lips tight, his face serious.
The following letter has given a check for three hundred pounds.
It is time released. It takes three months since I completed this work. "He complained.
Shaz took the letters and the check to his office. "Have not you go somewhere?" She asked pointedly.
He looked at his white face.
"Mrs. ... .. Ms. Alston. In Bury. "He looked at his watch." I gotta go. "
The door slammed and he was gone.
In the car, he went over the brief. Ms. Alston. Burglarized two weeks ago. antique ornaments stolen. Nothing else. Covered by insurance. But his Victorian silver hair set is high sentimental value.
Aitch grimaced. Not much chance of finding the goods after two weeks. However, if it has a few hours, it wo work.