Chapter 23
THE NIGHT BEFORE
Twenty-four minutes before his untimely demise, Leontes Button was caught up in his work, plotting for the week ahead.
He was seated at his desk in his onboard office, Olympus, as he formally called it, located on the bottom deck of his beloved yacht.
Plotting, for Mr. Button, always involved staring idly at the chessboard at the center of his desk, while assigning tasks to the wooden chess pieces and scribbling notes in his journal. Each piece would represent a thing to be done and would only be moved once the task had been started.
The door to Olympus opened and Mr. Button finally tore his eyes away from the inked pages of his overflowing planner to the presence now lingering by the entrance.
“Hello, Mr. Button. I received your message. You wanted to see me?”
“Henry,” Mr. Button said with a smile and uncharacteristically upbeat tone. His outstretched hand hovered over the pawn on B2 and then shifted back and grasped the knight, moving it forward swiftly, the knight now looming over the surrounding pieces. “Thanks for coming.”
“Is everything all right, Mr. Button?” Henry asked as he stepped inside the office, shutting the door behind him.
“Come, sit, play chess with me, Henry.”
Henry’s brows furrowed. “Mr. Button, you called me down here to play chess?”
“In part,” Mr. Button said.
Henry glanced down at the chessboard, noting how so many of the pieces had already been moved. It seemed Mr. Button had already been in the middle of a game.
Despite the strangeness of the request, the secretary obliged, like always. He took the seat in front of Mr. Button, and the pair picked up the odd, half-spun game.
After a few minutes of stifled, silent gameplay, Mr. Button finally spoke. “Poor move, Henry. You never leave the king unprotected,” he said, making his winning move and capturing Henry’s king.
“Oh, right,” Henry replied. “My apologies, Mr. Button.”
Mr. Button glanced over at his secretary of sixteen years with a pleased smile. Henry Xu was one of the longest-lasting and most loyal of his employees, the staff member who had been with him for as long as the children had. In a strange way, Henry was also his longest true companion.
“Good game, Mr. Button,” Henry said.
“Hmm, it was, wasn’t it? Short-lived but still decent,” Mr. Button replied, as he began moving the pieces back to their rightful places.
Henry moved to stand but Mr. Button held his hand up, signaling for the secretary to stay. “Henry, I would like to speak with you first thing tomorrow. Please cancel any prior engagements you may have.”
“Of course, Mr. Button … Is it about anything in particular?” Henry asked.
Mr. Button continued to rearrange the pieces. “I would like to discuss the termination of your contract as my secretary.”
Henry almost lost his footing then. His skin grew cold, his heartbeat almost ceasing altogether. “Mr. Button?” Henry said, unsure he’d heard him correctly.
“We will need to file the correct paperwork, reallocate your remaining duties, iron out any issues, etcetera.”
He was being fired. But why?
“Mr. Button—” Henry repeated, breathless. He was cut off by the jarring ring of Mr. Button’s phone, the noise reverberating around the windowless office and making the air feel even more stifling than it already was.
The secretary glanced down at the glowing screen and the caller ID: DR. BENSON.
Why on earth would the family doctor be calling at such an odd hour?
“Sorry, Henry, I need to take this. Give me two moments, please,” Mr. Button said.
Henry nodded soundlessly, his mind a whirr. He was being fired. He was going to lose his job. His home. His security.
Henry looked over at the man who was once his employer, a final thought weighing him down heavier than the rest: He needed to make Mr. Button change his mind. Whatever it took.
Mr. Button muttered something unintelligible into the speaker and then ended the call with a click, placing the telephone down on the table. “Now, Henry … where were we?”