David stood, stone-faced through Portia's recital and when she finished he was too flustered to speak. Instead, he went to his cupboard and took down a bottle of illegal Canadian Club whisky, poured a dangerous, pony glass full and downed it with a groan and a screwed up expression.

"We can just tell him what we think, David."

"Oh can we!" His voice scraped. "I warned you about meddling. About who these people were. They don't listen, Portia, they tell!"

The twenty minutes from Flo's call to the knock on the door was filled with ranting, rebuttals and no plan whatsoever of what to do.

"Uh- who is it?" David approached the door cautiously.

"Portia DeLysle."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm wish to speak with this woman. Open door."

David did and stepped back as the man entered. The face was void of expression and the scar that ran through the lower lip gave the appearance of impatience.

"Where is woman?"

"I'm Miss DeLysle," Portia said confidently, stepping forward with her cigarette holder waving uncertainly in front.

Yegor snatched it away and threw it down. "I don't like smoke. You went to make deal with Garber man at gallery."

"Oh, Jesus . . ." David sank back down in his chair.

"And if I did, just who are you to come here and behave so despicably?"

"I am man who will get answer to my question."

"Dee, for God's sake co-operate." David sat back as the man glanced his way."

"Very well, yes, I saw your Mr. Garber at the gallery. We discussed the possibility of a purchase." Portia retrieved her holder from the floor and boldly inserted a fresh cigarette.

"I said no smoke."

"And I say I will do as I please in my own home. I answered your question so be kind enough to see yourself out."

David closed his eyes and Portia stood dead still, shaking inside like a cocktail mixer. The silence went on for a minute then Yegor slowly raised his finger and pointed it at her.

"You will tell where you get money then I go."

"My source of income is none of your business or that of whoever sent you here. And if that answer isn't satisfactory tell your boss to come and ask himself."

A groan seeped from David as he peered at them through his fingers. Yegor stood still, a semblance of a smirk on his odd lips as he nodded slowly.

"You are some Tyolka."

Portia lifted her chin smugly.

"I speak with employer but I may be back and then not so pleasant." He left, closing the door quietly.

Neither of them spoke, but they both headed for the Canadian Club bottle.

David stood in the doorway of Rolly's office not wanting to get any closer to the large envelope of cash he was waving at him. His head was still full of the thug that had arrived at his door and worried that it was his door he might be returning to, thanks to Portia.

Rolly stood, impatiently waving the envelope in front of him.

"Here it is, Ashby, as promised. I want you to get this into our account right away."

"Rolly didn't you hear on the news what happened to Cardinal Imports?"

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I got a visit at my home from the same people!"

He blinked in surprise. "You? What for?"

"Because of what's going on here and at the gallery. It had to do with Garber, he was trying to do the same kind of deal you are. I told you, Rolly, these men are gangsters!"

"I don't know anything about that. Garber isn't even here, he's on leave."

"No wonder! Rolly it's the same people!"

"Look, Ashby, I pay you to do what I want done so either follow my instructions or tell Angela to make up your final pay cheque." He waved the envelope again.

"The bank is going to be suspicious, that's a lot of cash all at once."

"I'm getting sick and tired of your doom and gloom, David, do I need to advertise for a financial manager that will just do as he's told?"

"If you insist on making me complicit then maybe you should."

Rolly suddenly turned all wiggly and hail fellow well met. "David look, your views were recorded in the minutes, right? You were just doing what your employer told you to do. It's not a big deal."

"We just won a war over people who were only following orders."

"That was uncalled for." Rolly held out the envelope. "Just deposit this and I don't want to hear any more about it."

David sat in his office staring at the money and grasping for any idea that might help legitimize such a huge deposit of cash. He knew what could happen if the money wasn't there to cover the expected cheque. Rolly was living in a dream world and David was trapped in that dream.

He stared at the envelope. Self preservation said, bank it, worry later. A personal cheque or money order would have been no problem, but who hands over eighty thousand dollars in cash for a deposit?

The telephone jangled, startling him and he answered, speaking abruptly.

"Ooh, somebody got out on the wrong side of bed"

"Portia I'm very busy and I don't have time for whatever, and may I say thank you for giving my address to that gangster."

"You already did - why, has he been back?"

"Not yet."

"I am sorry, David. We were only trying to help."

He sighed. "Is Flo okay?"

"Yes . . . she's a little upset with me as well . . ."

"Look, I'm really busy here and I have a very difficult decision to make so if there's nothing else . . ."

"Okay, I'll call you later, or you could call me."

"I'll call you. Bye, Dee."

"Ellie? I need to speak to Mildred."

"She went home early, the Gallery is having the floor cleaned."

"I have to speak to her, what's her phone number?"

"Gee, David I can't give out that information."

"What! Ellie, we all work together, and right now I'm her financial manager as well since Ralph took a leave, and I need to speak to her."

The debate ended. The number was released and David called Mildred only to hear that she would not discuss company business on her personal line. David would have to go to her apartment or wait until she returned to work.

St. Lukes was a prestigious apartment block catering to poets, artists and authors; exactly the premises a Mildred Emmanuel would choose. David left the taxi and climbed the front steps, pressing the appropriate bell.

Inside he went to the elevator, a sculpted, open brass cage with a wood panelled wainscotting around the cabin, entered through sliding doors. The ride was smooth and silent and he exited to a carpeted lobby and one double, apartment door that stood open with Mildred posing in the entry.

"Come in, David. I'd like you to meet a friend, this is Kitty O'Halloran. Kitty, David Ashby. David is my new financial manager since Ralph took a leave."

"Pleasure." He accepted the extended fingers and held them briefly, taking in the distinctive perfume scent.

"So, what was the urgent need to talk?"

David glanced at Kitty. "It uh- is private business, Mildred."

"Oh, fiddle," she moved away, placing an intimate hand on her friend's shoulder. "Kitty knows all about my Gallery business."

"Ah . . . this is about our meeting the other day."

"It's fine, Millie. I should be on my way anyhow." Kitty set her clotch hat on her head, pulled on a pair of red gloves and kissed Mildred's cheek. "So nice to have met you David."

Mildred sank into a love seat, crossed her legs and arms, staring at David. "This had better be important. I had plans for today."

He went through his whole concern about the large cash deposit and the fact that he had been visited by a thug asking after Garber's business. He complained about Rolly's reluctance and emphasizing once again the danger and illegality of what they were doing.

"You have a point, David." She opened a cigarette case and, filling her holder and firing up, she considered him through the explosion of smoke. The news of David's visitor seemed to only give her a momentary pause; not the reaction David expected.

"Roland is anything but subtle about these things." She paused, creating little smoke puffs like a toy engine. "I'll call the bank and explain that you are coming over with a sizeable cash deposit from some new clients and a carelessly managed sum that was intended for deposit and wasn't."

He saw right away that as financial manager the bank would view him as the careless manager referred to by Mildred.

"Thank you, Mildred. That will work this time but what about the next? I'm telling you this is not a good idea."

"We'll worry about that when the next time does come. Now, is that all?"

David stood, nodded helplessly and left. As the elevator slowly descended he caught the brief shadow of an image on the stairway that ran alongside the elevator shaft.