April Weston placed the papers in her home office desk drawer and locked it, tucking the key into her suede skirt pocket. The setting sun threw bars of bright light across the room from the French windows and she pulled a face as it landed squarely on the oil painting of Balsam Grove, the home for seniors unable to cope, as well as those mentally challenged who needed constant care. April became the manager after Susan Duncan, her predecessor, was murdered; a grisly affair that also resulted in the near death of Wayne Jenner, the man alleged responsible for the act.

The first thing April discovered in her new position was the file in the locked desk relating to Wayne Jenner, his wife and his company. She was shocked at first, to see that Susan had actually forged powers of attorney for Wayne who was slowly recuperating in hospital after the violent attack on his life by his daughter.

She had stepped into the gap left in his business and with a few deft moves, some illegal, took a firm grip of the company's tiller. April saw an amazing opportunity and with an avarice equal if not greater than her predecessor's, she began a campaign to capitalize on Susan's groundwork.

Her first move was to attend him at the hospital and assert her authority with the medical staff. Next, April Weston confronted the board at Jenner Global Enterprises and cemented her position as Susan's replacement, immediately calling most of the shots in the company. With that under control, she next faced Wayne, in hospital where he was still in a long recovery, with the options she was making available to him.

Wayne was almost sorry he arranged for Susan's termination.

When he was deemed well enough to be released to a private rehabilitation program, April had him moved to Balsam Grove and installed in a private room, insisting it would be good for both of them. Here she was free to assert even more control by prescribing his medicines and dosages so as to keep him healthy but docile.

If he ever fully recovered, he would discover that he was no longer his own master. April reveled in the new version of herself. She spent lavishly on personal items, dined at the most expensive of places and insinuated herself into the clique of corporate leaders, gleaning every scrap of useful information possible. She gained a reputation as a shrewd and manipulative businesswoman and drew the envy of a number of peers over her control of Jenner Global.

The call from Bishop Gravestone to discuss a joint venture rocked her and excited her at the same time. Wayne was out of the picture and the big boys were calling her. Gravestone was well known in the business community for the normal, day to day commerce, but not as well for the darker deals that financed his operations and gave him an aura of danger.

The fact that he was calling her gave April the thrill of having moved into the mover and shaker arena. She remained calm, in spite of knocking knees, and dealt with the call in a cautious, businesslike manner.

Gravestone was interested in procuring a stamp from some remote island in the South pacific and when he mentioned its value she felt her adrenaline bump. There was a small hesitation over dealing with her instead of Wayne but she overrode that, emitting a force Gravestone felt was the kind of personality he wanted to pursue his project. Maybe Wayne did need more time to get better, he thought. A meeting was arranged and a strategy was decided.

"I have several people I use in these situations." Gravestone gestured with his dinner knife. A throw away line. They sat in the centre of a huge dining room where the nearest table was a loud exchange away. Crystal chandeliers, bottle glass windows reflecting the multi-coloured lights of the city night and deep carpeting almost dangerous to walk through.

"By people, you mean—"

"I mean people who know how to get things done, Miss Weston." He set down his knife and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "This is a hard business, there's no room for squeamish moralists. I'm sure you've learned that at Jenner Global."

April was amused considering what she had done to Wayne Jenner.

"I think you'll find that squeamish is not a trait I embrace, Mr. Gravestone. I'm just not an advocate of gratuitous violence."

He picked up his glass and drank without taking his eyes from hers. If only some of the idiots he'd used over the years had half the grit of this dame, he brooded. Vincent Crocadero came to mind with a distasteful shudder.

"Tell me, what's with Wayne? I find it hard to believe that he is letting you, almost a stranger in his life, run interference for him . . . personally and in his business. Surely he must be getting better by now."

April pushed her plate away and opened her purse, taking out a silver cigarette case. She popped it open and took one out, setting it between her lips and closing it again without offering one to Gravestone. He contrived a short smile, using the table candle to light it for her.

"Mr. Jenner has, through necessity due to a difficult and slow recovery, resolved to take a less active role in his affairs. I assure you, he is in good hands, Mr. Gravestone." She blew a stream of smoke over his head and composed her face, giving him nothing. They fenced a bit more over coffee and liqueurs then, squashing a third cigarette in the crystal ashtray, April asked about the subject of their meeting.

Bishop took over the delaying tactic and prepared a cigar from a small leather case. He rolled it slowly in the candle's flame, watching April all the while.

"The twelve cent Niuean air mail stamp. Issued in 1910 after Niue became a self governing island. According to the experts only about six hundred were produced and the bulk of those were used to petition New Zealand for aid.

There are nine in collections around the world, and all have been cancelled. The balance is assumed to be gone. Destroyed. The one we are seeking is mint. Unused. It is valued as high as six hundred thousand dollars but owning it would have the advantage of levering that even higher with serious collectors."

"A stamp? I understood that Bishop Gravestone undertook only those projects that provided millions in profit." She sounded a little disappointed, almost as if he agreed to do something with her just to test her capabilities.

"Power is the object of my projects, Miss Weston; financial gain is just the instrument to achieve that end. There are many 'things' that wield more power than money . . . in any quantity."

"I assume then you have some idea of just where this item is or all this is academic. What I'm not certain of is why enlist Wayne?"

"We have a history. Adversarial mostly, but on a number of occasions, mutually profitable. We each have a select array of contacts that compliment one another as needed. It is a wonderful love hate relationship."

April finished the last of her liqueur as she considered his response.

"I assume then that this joint attempt to obtain the stamp is a kind of mutually aided competition, ending with winner take all."

"Are you up for the challenge, Miss Weston?" He smirked.

She lifted her empty glass to a passing waiter and smiled back at Bishop. "How do we begin?"

"Bravo. I respect a woman who is willing to roll the dice."

"As long as they're not loaded." Her smile didn't go beyond her lips. "You didn't answer my question."

"I have a man in Samoa who claims he has heard of a collector in New Zealand that makes regular trips to Niue, who has been nosing around about postage stamp sales to England. Apparently the executor of an estate on the island discovered boxes of old postcards and letters among the belongings to be disposed of and it appeared as if the person had been saving the material because of the postage. Something excited him and with good cause because he received three replies to his queries."

"How do you know this?"

"I told you, my man in Samoa. He does good work for his pay."

"I'm not sure what you want with me in this deal if you have your people on site."

"Ah, there you see is the reason. My man, singular, not people, is in Samoa, not Niue. Through Jenner Global Enterprises you have transportation contacts that can move our people about without the fuss and bother of normal travel. Wayne just picks up the phone and we have planes at our disposal from wherever we need them."

April was impressed with the information but still uncertain as to how she would be sharing in the spoils. She mentioned this to Gravestone who indulgently reminded her that it was a competition.

"I have brought the item to his- your attention. I need to get people to Niue quickly and without fuss. Wayne can provide that service. But Wayne can also put his own people on the ground at the same time or even earlier." Bishop's grin was like a death head in the candlelight. "That's where the competition begins.

"That's all well and good but, as you are aware, it is I who have to make these plans and I am not privy to Wayne's roster of such people."

"Can he not do that? Is he that ill still?"

"I told you, his recovery is difficult and slow." She sensed an anger in his questions.

"You can speak to him, can't you? Just tell him what you need." The words came out flat and hard. April sensed that the pleasant part of their deal was finished. It was time for hardball.

"I'll be in touch." She said.

"Soon, Miss Weston. Soon."