Tillman waited in the car, watching the front doors of the office building. The large coffee and the triple burger sat cooling on the floor of the passenger's side, forgotten in the focus of his concentration. When the lights came on outside, the street changed in character, making the waning daytime colours flat and slightly sinister as they mixed with deepening shadows. Tillman saw the Brighton woman emerge and walk around to the parking lot next to the building.

He knew she wouldn't have the tapes any more; they would be in the lawyer's office—probably in a safe. Pity, he thought, questioning her might have made an otherwise routine exercise much more interesting. He shifted his bulk in the seat, remembering past operations where women were the subjects of his interrogations; one in particular always aroused vivid memory of violence and lust...mostly lust. He loved the lust. Seconds later, the Mercedes rolled out into the street and away into the encroaching night, breaking into his fantasy.

A few minutes later two more people came out, the man turning to lock the door before stopping to talk to the woman. Tillman studied them both with an appreciative nod for the lawyer's taste in women. He saw her shake her head and point up the street before waving goodnight to the man and striding off purposely.

Gil pulled his car out into the street and drove past Deborah, giving a little toot on the horn as he did. Perfect, Tillman smiled, starting his engine and following the direction of the woman. This could be just what the doctor ordered. He moved slowly up the street and braked almost to a stop when he saw her step from the curb and cross to his side of the street. Better and better! Tillman checked his mirror and the rest of the area, pleased to see that he was alone and he accelerated up alongside the woman, jumped out of the car and in a few short seconds, Deborah was lolling dazed in the passenger seat as Tillman sped around in a u-turn and roared back down the street.

He pulled into the lot beside the lawyer's office and coasted slowly to the shadows of a massive oak at the back. Deborah pushed herself upright and shook her head. The smell of onions filled the car and she felt her shoes stuck in something on the floor. The side of her face burned from a scrape where Tillman's hand had roughly grabbed her when he tossed her in the car. She heard the engine quit and she looked over at the driver. Tillman face was sharply defined in the shadow; one eye glistened malevolently. He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile and leaned toward her.

"Noise of any kind will be immediately dangerous to your health. Understand?" She nodded. "What's your name?" She cringed back and tears began to form. "Your name."

"D-Deborah..."

"Good. Listen, Deborah, we're going upstairs to your office and you are going to give me all the material you have on the WesCat case, okay?"

I can't," she pleaded. "Some of it is locked in the safe. I don't have—" The sudden pain in her upper arm made her yelp and she began crying in earnest. Tillman released the skin from between his fingers and immediately the spot turned a dull red and began to bruise.

"Excuses are not an option, Deborah. You will do exactly what I say, now get out and no tricks." He grunted with disgust as he saw she had stepped into his forgotten dinner and smeared it all over the floor carpeting.

Deborah cried all the way up the stairs and all the time she fumbled with the key in the office door, Tillman intimidated her with a series of ugly gropes to keep her off balance. Inside he shoved her toward the inner office and stood in the doorway with his arms folded.

"Get the stuff, Deborah."

She sniffled and reluctantly took the files from the cabinet and the telephone logs that were sitting on Gil's desk. "That's all I can get, honest. You have to believe me." Her chest shuddered as she watched his face close.

"I want the tapes the P.I. brought from Tubbs."

"Please," she pleaded. "They're locked in the safe. I can't open it. My boss is the only one."

"Remember what I said about excuses, Deborah?" He stepped out of the doorway and shut the door behind him. Deborah uttered a frightened moan and backed behind the desk, shaking her head and crying.

•••

Moira waited until the sommelier had poured their wine and then took out her cigarette case and removed a long, custom made thin, lighting it with a gold lighter. The thin stream of smoke expanded over Myles' head and then dissipated in a lacy cloud. She raised her glass and clinked it against his with a self-indulgent smile. His call had reassured them that the police knew nothing about the original tapes from Petchorik and further contact with his mysterious source confirmed that they once again possessed the originals. Things appeared to be back in control and Moira turned her thoughts to the next stage of their plan, secretly yearning for the moment when she could consider being together and free with Peter.

Abruptly, she looked at Myles, shaking her head in apology. "Sorry, Myles. What did you say?"

"It's good to see you smile again," he said, watching her drink. Bitch! "The vote is this week. In a few days we'll be in control of WesCat Alliance and the prime beneficiaries of the new merger."

She was relieved enough to allow herself to relax and enjoy whatever the evening presented, after all, there would be little time for outside interests when the merger was done. "It's nice to have a reason." She ran a shoeless toe up his shin under the table. "I wonder if Arnold Chang will offer us equivalent positions in the new company?" You, Myles, will be lucky to have a job she snickered to herself.

"Well, we still have to be very cautious, my man still needs to inventory everything he was able to retrieve. None of that material can be left floating about." His mouth curved in a small smile as he stretched his leg to give her better access. I'll see that smug look out the other side of that face. Myles surprised himself with his newly discovered assertiveness.

"As long as I- we remain at arm's length, Myles," she giggled girlishly at her remark and raised her toe to his knee.

"If he got all of it, we are out of the woods. The collateral damage can't be connected to either of us. Especially you. You must understand, Moira, I've protected you all the way on this. When it's over I expect recompense apropos of my efforts." And, darling, I intend to get it one way or another.

She leaned forward on her elbows and smiled through the flickering light of the small candle. Myles, darling, you'll get everything you deserve and more if this all goes away." She leaned back and scanning the tables around them, raised her foot to the chair between his legs and wiggled her toes, watching him react helplessly. Indeed my friend, everything you deserve.

Music drifted unobtrusively above the diners, adding to the intimate ambience of the room. Deftly precise servers swished silently between the tables, bearing trays of custom dishes to their eager clients, imparting clever asides and repartee as each circumstance demanded, topping up even the least consumed glasses of wine with knowing smiles. Moira brushed a strand of hair from her forehead with a shaky hand, the excessive amounts of wine they'd shared with the meal was taking over and she was even finding it difficult to keep Myles face in sharp focus. Her foot had long ago found its target and throughout the meal Myles had squirmed in a mixed state of discomfort and ecstasy, now her leg felt cramped and she found it awkward to lift it back down and into her shoe.

"A little more?" Myles asked, holding the almost empty wine bottle.

"I- I don't think..."

"Just a dash, it's all finished now. I'll take this last bit." He poured a few drops in his glass and held it up over the guttering candle. "To the most seductive woman in town and the most beautiful... and soon, the wealthiest." He gestured for her to drink and she raised the glass to her mouth, clinking it noisily against her teeth.

"I think I've had too much, I hope we're taking a cab back."

"Actually," he said, looking at her through hooded eyes and waving to the waiter, "I've booked a suite upstairs. I rather thought we might overdo the celebrating—too much to drive anyway."

She heard Myles thank the deskman who had assisted in getting her up to the room with as little fuss as possible but as she lay on the bed watching the ceiling spin she couldn't remember the journey. Her eyes ached and a small elf was chiseling a sculpture in the crown of her head. Myles came into the room and stood by the side of the bed looking down at her and his face merged with the image swirling in her head.

"Let me help you out of those things, Moira darling. I think perhaps some of that recompense I mentioned could be forthcoming now, hmmm? We'll discuss the financials when you're more able." She blinked and grunted as he rolled her over and undid the zipper on her dress.