I strolled into the office at 4:45pm. Axewell and Fanny Ma were in Axewell’s office. He was on the phone, listening anxiously. Nobody else was about: one of Axewell’s emails to Kit had said the staff would be out during my termination.

Spotting me, Axewell slammed the phone down and came over, gnawing his pen ferociously. "Jake, where is Kit?" he said.

"Isn’t he back yet?"

"No! I must speak to him immediately. Alicia says you two left the Shangri-la hours ago. Where did he go?"

"After our talk I dropped him off at his hotel – he had to do some email. Why don’t you call his hotel?"

"I’ve called five bloody times! The hotel says he’s not in his room"

"Have you tried his mobile?"

"Of course I’ve tried his bloody mobile! But he’s not bloody answering. Aren’t you listening to me? Where is he? Both of you were supposed to be here at four."

I shrugged. "Sorry I missed that – it’s been a bitch of a day. Can we take a rain check?"

Axewell glared and went back to the office, where Fanny Ma waited at the door. Pretending to look at my screen, I watched from the corner of my eye as they whispered. Then they went back into the office, closed the door, and Axewell made a call. I couldn’t hear his words, but his gestures made it clear he was shouting – at some hapless peon at Matthews’s hotel, no doubt. Finally he slammed the phone down and both of them came over. "You’re to stay here until we return," said Axewell.

"Sure. Where will you be if Kit shows up?"

"Just stay here."

"Okay."

The two of them walked off. Before they got far, however, Axewell turned to Fanny and told her he would "try once more." He went into the office and dialed again; this time he just sat there glowering, and, no doubt, Kit Matthews’s mobile, safely stowed in luggage locker 1037A at the Kowloon Airport Express station, rang urgently, perhaps annoying a cleaning person, perhaps causing an airport-bound traveler collecting his bag to raise an eyebrow. Unsuccessful, Axewell slammed the phone down, returned to Fanny without a glancing at me, and then they were gone.

There was no telling when they would return, but if there was ever a time to act it was then. I had to work quickly. I was halfway to Axewell’s office when panic hit (what if I were caught?), so, hands shaking, I took a long detour to the men’s room where I sat in a stall regaining my senses. Ah! Toilet paper! How could I forget something so simple? My panic attack had saved me. I took a generous amount and stuffed it into my jacket pocket. And then, after a long line of blow from the large bag I’d brought from my desk, I exited the stall, forgetting to flush (Idiot!). Luckily the washroom was vacant.

The JV area was still empty, so I stole into Axewell’s office and, nervous as hell, did what I had to do, and did it very well, as things turned out. Perhaps if I’d had more time to consider the alternatives, to sober up and think, I would have done things differently, but to do things differently would have been foolish, for my decision that afternoon has turned out to be the most profitable one of my career.

I got out of his office un-detected (safe!), and only when I returned from the car park did I find Axewell. He was alone by my desk. It had been too easy. "I told you to stay right here!" he snapped. "Have you seen Kit?"

Exhausted, I just shrugged.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Jake Stratton, of course."

"That’s not what I meant! You think you can get away with doing nothing, with never working, with living by your wits alone, as if life’s supposed to be some big bloody vacation. Well, mate, I don’t know what you told Kit bloody Matthews, but I’m on to you, and I’m going to come down on you like fury, and make no mistake about it, you will pay. Do you understand, Stratton? You will pay."

"Well…all right."

"You don’t stand a snow flake’s chance in hell."

"Thanks, Peter, that’s really inspirational."

He shook his fist and without another word stalked back to his office, seized his ridiculous little suitcase, and slouched off angrily without another look in my direction. It was the last I ever saw of him.

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