The pale man’s smile made him look younger than he was, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes wrinkled in genuine pleasure as he handed over the cash for his purchase. The bills were real – she checked, thoroughly – but she wasn’t moved by his smile. She counted every bill (he gave her no change: this kind of purchase was in round numbers, and large ones at that), her narrowed eyes flicking to his hands at random intervals. They stayed gently clasped in front of him, not fidgeting or jiggling; he was relaxed, placid. He seemed content, looking for all the world like a Sunday gent. All he was missing was a hat tipped back on his head and a loosened tie and he’d be a fifties throwback, watching his kids play in the sun after church. It unnerved her something awful.

The bills counted, she tapped them on the desk to level them out, and then divided them unevenly between two envelopes: one white, one manila. She pressed a small buzzer on her desk and a man – huge, rippling, sweaty – appeared from the black metal door behind her, a door that had no doorknob on her side. He gently placed a briefcase on her desk, collected the envelopes and sulked out, knocking twice on the matte black door until it was opened.

Gingerly, she turned the briefcase so that it faced the buyer. She slid it delicately across the desktop to him; still smiling contentedly, he gave her a shallow nod. Without pause, she pushed her chair back, stood as smoothly and as upright as she could, and strode quickly and confidently to the door. Keeping her fists at her side, she began to knock gently but urgently until the door was opened just wide enough for her to slip in: as slim as she was, it was a tight squeeze. The door closed again and was locked, fast, with a whisper of sound like an air-tight seal locking into place.

As the door was being closed, the man pulled the case across the desk towards himself.  Gently, and with great anticipation, he placed both hands on the lid and closed his eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of the leather against his palms, and to revel in the joy of his purchase, and to delight in the sound of three people – two quite large and one a bit too skinny for her height – running as fast as they possibly could down a passageway.

His smile widened past the point of comfort, and the skin of his face became taut and mottled. In his slow, relaxed breathing crouched a sound like the distant buzzing of millions of flies.

The skin around his eyes was still wrinkled in genuine pleasure as he slipped his hands to the latches and reverently opened the case.