"Leslie, if you haven't done anything wrong, then there's no reason to run."
Leslie burst into laughter. "If I haven't done anything wrong? How do you think I managed three ex-wives, a girl friend, a yacht, and three residences? I'm in up to my neck, dear friend. I have to disappear." The flames licked out of the top of the container and Leslie slowed the pace at which he dropped in papers.
Jeff stared, his mouth slightly open. He waved his hand to clear the smoke in front of him.
"Don't look so surprised. You must have suspected that the last deal I cut for your boss was shaky."
"No. No, I didn't. Neither did Mr. Matwin." Jeff said. "That's why I asked for this appointment: to clarify the entire matter."
Leslie laughed aloud. "Then he has a surprise in store." The blue container was now full of ashes. Leslie began to use the other, still empty.
"Fill that flower pot with water and dump some into my new incinerator, Jeff. It's pretty hot, and I want to cool it down some." He laughed nervously. "Thank God, there's no technology available to recover written text from ashes."
Jeff didn't move. "I'd better be going."
"You can't get out, Jeff. Don't be an idiot. Do as I tell you."
Reluctantly, Jeff fetched the water and poured some into the green container.
"Now get me those files," Leslie said, pointing to a jumble of folders in the corner. "That's the last batch. Then I'm finished with the paper."
"How much is Kevin going to lose?" Jeff asked as Leslie began to drop folder after folder into the container.
"I paid you twenty thousand, right? And the deal was for three hundred thousand. Kevin got fifty thousand as a deposit for the order. He won't see much more than what he already has."
"But why? The companies-" Jeff almost shouted. He began to shake, the smoke bothering not only his lungs, but also his stomach.
"The companies are phantom companies with fake addresses. They'll undersell the books and keep the money. No way to trace them. One is in Thailand, one in the Philippines, and one in Hong Kong." Leslie dusted his hands together; all of the papers were burned.
"Now I have to deal with diskettes and the like. For each client-each victim, that is-there's a safety deposit box. I have both keys. Each diskette contains backup material. Basically a copy of what I've just burned."