Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

first floor.

Peter was tapping his heavy fountain pen against his palm, the dry click of the plastic casing sounding like a telegraph key in the marble corridor.

“Raymond has been in with the clerk since nine,” Peter said, his voice clipped and fast.

I did not answer, keeping my eyes on the elevator doors at the end of the hall.

The brass doors slid open continue reading …