His route took him up and down stairs, along corridors, and through communal areas – complete with vending machines and coffee filters. The rooms either side were a mixture of offices, meeting rooms, and social areas. At first he checked carefully before passing open doors, lest he be seen. But most rooms were deserted and if not, the occupants paid no attention to his passing.

Suddenly a door opened ahead of him and a man emerged. There was nowhere to hide – there was no other room between him and the door. He silently willed the man to turn away from him but secretly knew that he was going to come towards him – heading for the restrooms he had just passed. Expecting to be challenged at any moment he tried to think of an excuse for his being there. He needn't have worried. The man walked past him with hardly a glance.

Of course, he was in the depths of the Vanderkin Corporation headquarters. He remembered an article he had read in Reader Digest about the most secret section of the most secret building in the world. Where the future Vanderkin products were developed and tested – and where some said Vanderkin controlled the world. That explained the labyrinthine layout of passages and corridors. The article had said that workers were not allowed to talk to each other about their work, or give any personal details that might identify them outside the Vanderkin building. If you worked in this inner sanctum of the Vanderkin building you never knew who else was working on your project. You received your work instructions in the morning, and updated your progress in the evening. Where the work came from, and where it went after you had finished, was always unknown. You could spend three years meeting the same person at the water cooler and talking about the latest saga on the soap opera, but never know you were both working on the same project, or lived in the same street. Vanderkin was so afraid of commercial espionage he made sure that no one knew more than they absolutely needed to. No wonder the guy going to the restroom had paid him no attention.

Simon walked faster now, his confidence boosted. There was a slight niggle that something wasn't quite right, but he pushed it to the back of him mind. His success at having reached this far raised a feeling of euphoria that squashed all doubt. He was no longer worried about being seen – anyone who did see him would assume he must have reason to be there, or he would never have gotten past security. No one would assume that Vanderkin himself would expose the soft underbelly of his security system. "Ha, ha, Vanderkin," he thought to himself. "Your wonderful security systems have been breached – and breached by your own plan."

Another look at the map confirmed he was almost at the exit. One more flight of stairs, third door on the left and he would be in the public reception area and could escape. The lights in the corridors behind dimmed as he passed through – energy saving lights, triggered by human heat. When he had first encountered these – in a bookstore in Michigan – he had been amazed at how the shelves where illuminated as he approached them. Now such lighting was commonplace in all public buildings.

He opened the final door, expecting to step into the reception area – decorated in the light red and yellow Vanderkin Corporation corporate colours, with TV sets playing videos telling visitors how wonderful the Vanderkin Corporation was, and how we couldn't live our lives without its fantastic products and innovations.

No, this wasn't right. The door clanged shut behind him. A very metallic clang, for what appeared to be a wooden door. Simon looked around in bewilderment, and then looked back at the map. Yes, he was where he expected to be. But this wasn't what he expected to find. With mounting horror, the uncertainty he had been suppressing came back to the front of his mind with full force. Those energy saving lights – they hadn't waited for his body heat to activate at all. They had been on before he got there. They'd been showing the route – he'd been led here all along.

He was in a large room – about 50 feet by 30 feet. At one end a desk was raised on a small dais, with a collection of leather armchairs and settees in front of it. To the side was a boardroom table with eight chairs either side, and one at each end. Further down the room was a running machine and exercise cycle, together with some other equipment Simon didn't recognise.

"Ah Simon, welcome. I've been expecting you".

The unmistakable tones of Mr Vanderkin came from the desk – at the same time a bright light on the desk was pointed towards Simon, which made it difficult to look in that direction.

"M..M..Mr Vanderkin" stammered Simon.

"Sit down" barked Vanderkin. Simon made for one of the seats. "No, not on a seat – on the floor, where you belong. You don't deserve a seat"

Simon complied – more in astonishment and fright than in wilful cooperation. Vanderkin continued: "Yes Simon. I've been expecting you. Perhaps not quite as early as this, but Claire's outburst gave us an unexpected diversion – we had planned another diversion for later in the week"

"You planned?"

"Oh yes, Simon. This was all planned. It was all planned so I could meet you. You don't think finding that map was an accident did you? Did you not think it strange that it wasn't in the book the first evening you read it?"

"I didn't notice – I guess I was so excited at having found it"

"Well, I was fairly certain that would be the book you picked up. But I had to be certain that you – and you alone would find it"

"Why not the others"

"Well, just another stage in my plan really. A way of building up your confidence. To make sure you didn't suspect anything. The other's stories – well, while they are quite entertaining, and it probably does them good to bare their souls in this way, I was not really that interested in them. I was a little worried the other night, after your conversation with Charlie, that you might open up in the confession room. That would have been unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?"

"Yes – unfortunate. A set back, but not a disaster. Though it would have been the first time my planning had gone wrong".

"I was trying to escape"

"Yes, Simon, I know you were. I wanted you to – so I could bring you here. But we digress. I'd like to hear about the person you killed"

"What's the point – you know it all"

"I know what was reported in the newspaper, and what the Air Force Enquiry concluded. But I'd like to hear your side of the story"

"Hey – that Air Force Enquiry is secret military information"

"Nothing is so secret that it can't be found out by those with the right knowledge. Who do you think supplies the IT systems used by the military? OK, they might be badged with different manufacturers' names, but ultimately they are all Vanderkin products.
"Now, will you tell me your side of the story?"

"It was when I was stationed in England. It was early Saturday evening and I'd borrowed a car to go into Brackley for the evening. There were a few pubs there that were used by US serviceman – where, if not exactly welcomed, we were tolerated. And I was beginning to get quite a taste for British beer.
"I'd arranged to meet some guys at 8.00, but had been late leaving, so was driving quite fast"

"Too fast", interrupted Vanderkin. "In excess of 80 mph on a road with a limit of 60 mph, according to the police report."

"Ok, I was driving too fast. I came round a corner, and there was this kid pushing a bicycle across the road. I swerved to avoid him – but I was used to driving on the other side of the road. I instinctively swerved to the right – which was the way the kid jumped. He was killed outright. But it's not like it was murder. I didn't plan to kill him."

"You were driving too fast. 20 mph faster than the speed limit. And probably 30 mph faster than what was safe. OK, maybe you didn't mean to kill Matthew (that was his name, by the way. That was the name his parents gave him. That was what the wreaths said at his funeral. Not "kid" but "Matthew"). But you knew that your driving was out of control – and anything or anyone you hit at that speed wouldn't stand a chance"

"I guess so – but I paid my punishment"

"Ah yes, a £500 fine, banned from driving in the UK for eighteen months (though of course, you returned to the US after two), and thrown out of the Air Force.
"But what about Paul?"

"Paul?" Simon tried to feign puzzlement, though he knew exactly whom Vanderkin meant.

"Yes, Paul. Paul Mallett. Paul V Mallet. You know who he was – he wrote to you"

"Matthew's Friend. Yes he wrote me. Frequently. 'I hate you. You've killed my best friend. PVM'. Like I didn't feel bad enough already"

"'Friend' doesn't even come close to the relationship between Matthew and Paul. They were even more than 'best friends'. They grew up together. They did everything together – always sat next to each other in school. Would go off fishing in the spring and fall, or off on their bikes in the winter. They would go on family vacation together – their parents treated the other like their own son.
"After you killed Matthew, Paul was distraught. His personality changed overnight. From a happy, confident, outgoing lad of 14, he became withdrawn, lonely and depressed. He couldn't imagine how life could continue without his lifelong companion. So it didn't"

"It didn't?"

"Twelve months to the day after you killed Matthew, Paul climbed a tree at the edge of the village – a tree from where he could see the site of the accident. He took a rope with him. Tied one end round the tree, and the other round his neck, and jumped"

"Well, I can't be blamed for a teenager's suicide", claimed Simon, in false defiance.

"Oh yes you can. Your thoughtlessness on that night in January killed him – just as if you were there putting the noose round his neck yourself"

"No – that's not fair. I knew nothing about that"

"Well now you do. Except one vital detail – Paul's full name."

"Paul Mallett – you already told me".

"Paul V Mallet, I told you. I didn't tell you what the V stands for".

Simon's stomach gave a lurch as he guessed what was coming next.

"The V stands for Vanderkin. He was my nephew".

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