"Mrs. Lockhart, this is Arnold Wainright from Cutter and Glimb." Arny chewed his lip and awaited her response.

"Yes."

"Uh- Mrs. Lockhart, I'm calling because I wanted to extend my personal condolences on the- on your loss. Allen, as you may not be aware, was covered by an employee insurance policy in the event of- of- well at any rate if you would like me to handle the legalities I'm sure I can expedite payment of that policy to assist you in any pressing expenses."

"I wasn't aware, but thank you Mr. Wainright, that would be most appreciative." Silence permeated the line and Arny struggled for something to say.

"Allen's... remains were shipped home and I have had the necessary procedures handled by a local funeral parlour. He was- there was a small service last weekend." Arny heard a distinct sniffle and he desperately wanted to say good bye and hang up.

"Again uh- on behalf of Cutter and Glimb and myself please accept our condolences and I will see to the execution of the policy immediately."

"Your very kind. Thank you." The sound was so faint Arny wasn't certain she had hung up but the dial tone came on and he lowered his own phone, feeling the dampness under his arms.

"Who was that?" Gretta breezed in the door and shucked her coat onto a side chair.

"You back already? Reinstated? Fired? Condemned?" He rose from the kitchen table and went to retrieve her coat. "Respect your stuff Gretta and hang it up. He held it out to her.

"Yes, mom." She took the coat and went to the closet. "I am officially the golden haired girl of CONGA."

"And Maurice was left in ruins on the office floor."

"Pretty much. I made a peaceful overture to him because he looked so distraught and I might need his assistance some day."

Arny made a face. "Meaning you have no intention of retiring from your super hero job."

"Oh Arny." She leaned over kissed his cheek. "Who was on the phone?"

"Mrs. Lockhart. I called to offer my condolences and those of the company and explain to her that there was an insurance plan she could take advantage of to help defray all the... you know."

"That was thoughtful, lover. You're a good guy." She wrapped her arms around him and they swayed slightly against the counter.

"Yeah, good guy. What are we doing about Jeffery's pen?"

Gretta pulled away and began fiddling with things on the counter. "I'm not sure yet. It's Bishop's move, if he's going to make one."

"And you're going to counter it in your usual fashion." His tone was more resignation than anger.

"Arny we've been here so many times..." She gave him a remorseful look.

He waved a hand and went into the living room and flopped on the couch. Gretta stood still for a long while just thinking and then, heaving a huge sigh, she turned her attention to getting something out for dinner.

***

Clarke Ames left the office late and headed down the street to the subway. His work was falling off and his new manager was hinting at 'corrective measures'. Ever since the news of Allen's murder he was a nervous wreck, even his home life was taking a dip. His wife complained of a lack of communication and began nagging when he wouldn't talk about whatever was bothering him. Arny was pissed at him and now instead of going home he was heading for a bar, a recent and growing habit.

The car slowed as it neared him and stopped beside him, the window lowered and a face leaned over to speak. Clarke stayed back from the car.

"You know where Hogarth Avenue is from here?"

"Sorry, don't know the name."

"I got a note here says it's supposed to be near the subway on Chester."

"Chester is a couple of blocks down there." Clarke pointed, his guard dropping slightly.

"Can you tell me if this is a seven or a two... the address."

Annoyed, he bent down to the window to look and came face to face with a large gun barrel.

"Climb in, pal."

Clarke jerked upright and instantly began running the opposite direction of the car. He heard the engine rev and the squeal of tires as the driver executed a one- eighty.

The subway was still three blocks away and there was no place to go on a street full of corporate towers, all closed for the night. He glanced back and caught the glare of the headlights bearing down on him. He slowed a little and when the car neared he reversed his steps and raced back the way he'd come, crossing the road and taking a service lane over to the next street.

He pressed himself into a small corner of the building and held his breath while he listened for any pursuit. The realization that whatever had gotten Allen killed was now attaching itself to him and he had no idea who to turn to.

The police would be more interested to hear of his complicity in a potential theft and subsequent murder of his associate than his being in any danger. Arny's name popped into his head and he groaned, wishing he'd never heard another name... Sonjia Parks. He huddled in the alcove for fifteen minutes and was confident that the car that chased him wasn't around then he hurried to the subway and straight home.

"Mr. Ames to see you Mr. Wainright." Shirley's crisp voice chirped over the interphone system and Arny chuckled aloud. When nobody was around he was Arny or any one of several other endearments, some which could easily be classified as harassment. Shirley Dawes had been an upper management secretary long before Arny ever dreamed of joining that group and he relied heavily on her experience and knowledge. She was the stereotype office mother with a desk covered in photos of grandchildren and pets. Arny loved her.

"Thanks Shirl."

The office door opened and Clarke entered looking like an unmade bed. He took the chair in front of Arny's desk and sat forward with his hands between his knees.

"I'm in deep trouble, Arny."

"I hope this is nothing domestic, Clarke because I don't want to know."

"No, it's not, it's- it's about... A guy tried to kidnap me at gunpoint last night."

Arny sat forward and looked at the haggard face, the mussed hair and the wrinkled suit; Clarke looked like hell. "Kidnapped at gunpoint?"

"I was here late and I was walking to the subway. He pulls up pretending ask directions and when I bent down to the window he shoved a gun in my face."

"So- well what happened?"

"I ran the opposite way a couple of times and he couldn't turn the car fast enough then I stood in a dark alcove on Wellington until it was safe enough to move. Arny, I'm sure it has something to do with Allen's- his scheme."

"Did you call the police?"

"No! Hell if they found him and I'm right I'd have to explain why and that would lead to all kinds of trouble." He looked up pleadingly. "You know what I mean."

"What do you expect me to do about this, Clarke, as far as I'm concerned the business with Jeffery is over and I'm not getting involved again. As it was I had to do a lot of tap dancing on your behalf."

Clarke stood and clasped his hands over his temples and began pacing. "What am I gonna do?"

"Toughest choice but best solution is come clean with Darlene and call the police."

He stopped pacing and stared at Arny. "Come clean? Christ I might as well slash my wrists right here."

"Okay Clarke. Personal exorcism over. Get your act together and make a decision or it won't be just a domestic problem you have."

"Oh God, Arny, I can't lose my job!"

"Then solve your problem, Clarke; I haven't got time for this, I've got the company's and my own affairs to concentrate on."

"Clarke looked desolate. He mumbled an apology and walked out leaving the door open.

"Is everything okay, Arnold?" Shirley stood with one hand on the doorknob and the other playing nervously with her necklace.

"Yeah, yeah everything's fine, Shirl. Make out a vacation cheque for Clarke and see that he takes it and the time; he has some domestic issues."

She stepped in and pushed the door to. "I've taken it up with Sonjia, explaining proper office protocol. We won't be having any more nonsense in that quarter."

"You spoke- how did you know...?"

"I know everything that goes on here, Arnold... everything." She winked and closed the office door behind her.

Just what did she mean by everything? He leaned back in his chair and began to rock.