Jeff Moore arrived early at the appointment with Kevin's company lawyer, Leslie Hadson. Hadson's head office, located in the old headquarters of The Peoples' Helping Hand, was a one-story construction with an ample entrance, a waiting area with colorful chairs in the left corner, a receptionist's kiosk in the middle and a row of offices on the right.

The receptionist wasn't at her desk and the sliding door giving access to the offices was locked. Surprised, Jeff pressed the button on the internal speaker.

"We're closed. Come back next week," a voice said.

"Leslie? Is that you? Jeff Moore here. We set up an appointment for today-before I left for France."

"Oh-it's you, Jeff. Right. Come in." A prolonged beep signaled that the door was unlocked. "Make sure the door closes behind you, Jeff. I'm in the old bank vault. I have some business to do back here."

Jeff entered and descended into the basement, where the old safety deposit boxes and the time-vault were located.

"Leslie? Are you okay? There's a lot of smoke around here. How come the smoke detectors aren't working?"

"It's okay, Jeff, I shut them off. Don't worry, just follow the smoke. I'm burning a few papers."

Coughing repeatedly, Jeff descended the stairway, his steps uncertain. Two large metal containers, one blue and acting as an incinerator, the other green and still empty, stood in the middle of the vault. Leslie, in a grey suit with a shiny yellow tie, was feeding paper into the blue container.

"Leslie, what are you doing? And where's everyone else?"

"Not much time to explain, Jeff. I've laid off all of my employees and closed up the practice." Leslie's movements were precise, and yet frantic.

"What? Why?"

"Oh, just a little trouble I seem to be in," Leslie said with a smirk. He continued his work.

"What kind of trouble?"

"The people who were supposed to back me up aren't working any more. They've been dismissed." Leslie didn't lift his gaze from the fire in the container.

"Dismissed?" The place was getting hot, and very smoky. He coughed. "Who was supposed to back you up, and for what?" Jeff asked, coughing again.

Leslie raised one eyebrow and glanced at Jeff. "Where have you been?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

"France. Personal business. But tell me about these people who were supposed to back you up-"

Leslie paused, glanced at Jeff, then continued to toss paper into the blue container. "Some people were supposed to cover for me, justify what I did, one way or another. But they've been fired. They were directors of influential banks." Leslie continued to toss paper into the container, unperturbed. "Inquiries are under way… in each of the financial institutions where I acted as a consultant for domestic or foreign investments. I'm afraid I'll be blamed for every loss they encountered."




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