The loading dock was a concrete bay with several overhead doors leading to the outside. A set of double doors lead to the interior. Cautiously I opened those and saw that there was a light on inside. I was at the foot of a stairway leading up with a door continuing into the interior opposite from me.

I made my way up the stairs. The door at the top was closed. As quietly as I could I opened the door and entered. I was in a room filled with tables and chairs. Place settings and decorations were on each table along with little placards holding numbers, and a long table with a dozen settings lined one wall. I scanned the room and saw a figure opposite me. He sat with his back facing me and was watching the doorway in front of him. On the table where he sat lay a briefcase and the smoke from his cigar rose above him.

I aimed my pistol at him and advanced. Scanning the room I saw no one else.

“Don’t move, and put your hands up,” I commanded.

“Which one?” Michael replied. “Don’t move or put my hands up?”