* * *
Each member of the board and of the senior executive staff filed
into the Wallaby boardroom. Most of them arrived at eight o'clock
sharp, avoiding the usual idle conversation that, in the past,
had always taken place outside the room.
Matthew's secretary, Eileen, stood in the doorway of his office.
"It's time," she said, then returned to her desk.
Matthew stood. He clipped his pen to the yellow tablet on which
he'd been writing.
Eileen busied herself at her desk, arranging papers and notes.
She paused and said, "Matthew, good luck."
He gave her a small nod and headed for the boardroom.
The exotic fruits, croissants, pastries, coffee, and bottles of
mineral water on the table set up outside the boardroom had
hardly been touched. Normally the table would be nearly empty by
now, and the executive staff secretaries, disguising their
cravings by pretending to go to the ladies' room, would pick over
the remains once the boardroom door had closed and the meeting
was underway. But today they could enjoy themselves in a
leisurely fashion, for none of the board members seemed to have
appetites.
The room fell from a fuzzy hum to heavy silence when Matthew
entered. Immediately he saw that Peter had not yet arrived. He
seated himself in one of two vacant leather chairs at either end
of the long, black table.
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