She glanced at the screen - a direct package transfer request from Mr. Dunn in Marketing. A timer appeared, counting down from four minutes. If she...missed her deadline, she'd gain one demerit for every ten seconds she was late by. Usually the deadlines were doable, but every so often they were nigh impossible. She hurried off towards the Marketing department, obeying the demands of her electronic leash.Kirsten's breasts bounced as she trotted up the stairs. The stairs added two minutes. I saw him take out a pad of some sort, but what he was doing I didn't know. I turned back to the meeting.Meers poked his head out of the door and spoke, briefly, to the receptionist."Okay," I said, "so we have a probable assassination attempt on Sir Samuel in Gillingham. "This means that you sir," I nodded at Zucher, "need to try and persuade him not to go. But it also needs someone to try and work out who this King of Clubs is. I take it we are still no nearer identifying him?"Zucher shook his. More

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