James sat on his office desk with a cup full of tea preparing for his day. We were in his home office, on a silver two-seater sofa sat next to the window overlooking the backyard. In the sunshine the air was warm, and that warmth was particularly pleasant with the invigorating freshness of the morning frost still in the air. Outside, cows mooed, waiting to be milked.

It was gratifying to watch him arrange his desk so meticulously. He was organized. With everything he did, he took extra care to ensure that it was done perfectly.

I had an idea of why he had invited me over to his office so early in the morning, but I was still unsure. James was unpredictable. He was skilled at keeping everyone off-balance and in the dark by never revealing the true purpose behind his actions. It was always impossible to prepare a defence.

"What would you like?" he asked. "Tea or whiskey?"

"Whiskey."

Standing, he wabbled away from his desk to the bar hidden behind a stack of documents. He pulled out a half bottle of Jameson. "Whiskey?"

He poured it into an empty glass and handed it to me. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat. He picked his cup of tea and took a sip.

"I had an interesting conversation with Walter yesterday. I don't know if you remember him."

"Yes. I remember him."

Walter Awiti was a forty-year-old master strategist known for bringing revolution to the Credit Gulf Bank. He studied the earnings profile, growth potential, embedded risks and running costs of each of the bank's core businesses, as well as the group capital position and reporting structure. He was a smart man. In later 2004, he opened his bank that became popular with high-end clients who included influential politicians and powerful bureaucrats.

"Rumor has it that Awiti uses his bank as a registering agent to channel a blacklist of people's— oftentimes illegally acquired — money to jurisdictions with secretive and lenient tax laws. I wanted to meet him and see what he can do for our business."

James was an entrepreneur. At a very young age, meticulously, he created a glass wall to see clearly and to protect himself. In his community, he saw a problem and provided a solution. His many businesses employed a lot of the locals. People who respected and feared him. Even those who didn't know much about him were keen enough to know how to approach him. It was his way of blending in. Men like him didn't have to do much to require the respect of those around.

"He's in the country for a few days and is available for a meeting this weekend and I want you to come with me as my lawyer. I'm interested in hearing what you have to say."

"Sure."

My phone, on the table, vibrated. I glanced at my wristwatch, it was ten minutes to eight and I had a client across town. For a few agonizing minutes, James didn't say anything else. It unsettled me how he watched me. He had such wild eyes. Nothing about them was dead, on the contrary, they were pretty much alive and hungry. He had the eyes of a predator; always on the hunt, never satisfied. He was the very definition of an animal disguised as a human.

I had done my fair share of evil in name of protecting my family. It was only a figment of my misery, truth distorted and twisted to match my horrible reality. There is an infinite number of ways to explain how a man can come to the point where he destroys human lives. The act of killing someone is not a common experience. I often wondered how James ended up being the person he was. About his talent.

"I'm having a lot of trouble... genuine trouble, figuring our problems out. What are your thoughts on what's been happening?" he asked. "What are your thoughts?"

"On what's happening?"

"On what's happening," he repeated.

"I don't know." I tried to sound sure. "After our meeting last week, I'm trying to get to the bottom of things. I'm trying to understand how I missed the attack on our family."

"Someone is responsible for all this fucking mess. Usually, you would have seen this coming. You've been distracted of late."

"It's been a long time since someone tried to cross you. I've become complacent; comfortable with the rapport that we've built. I didn't think anyone would dare cross us, so I wasn't on the lookout."

"Intelligence is a very valuable thing, isn't it?" he asked.

Although I didn't understand where the conversation headed or what he meant, I nodded.

"Your distraction..." He smiled. "I'd like to meet her. You should bring her over for the meeting with Walter. He's known to have an interest in beautiful women, and I hear this woman you've been housing is beautiful. Since she's leaching off you, she might be useful to the family."

I clenched my fists until my fingernails dug painfully into my palms. James was the type of man that didn't want to feel like he had been fooled. Like he knew someone and yet didn't know them at all. He was fishing around. He wanted a hook. He wanted a smoking gun, a cause and effect. I was not about to give him one.

"Her name is Maria. I'll bring her with me."

Later in the evening, Maria and I met in a beautiful cottage house well hidden in a lush garden in the leafy suburb of Karen. Outside, there was a large swimming pool right in front of the cottage with lounge chairs. Inside, the living area was spacious with an exquisite wood-burning fireplace. The dining room was a modest space, to say the least. The tables took up most of the space, long and solid wood. They were elegant in a minimalist sort of way. The floor beneath it all was slate and with the cream walls and tall.

"My friend owns this house," I explained. "Normally, he leases it out on Airbnb. It's a top destination for romantic getaways because of the skylights at the rooftop, the large pool and a jacuzzi area. He was more than willing to rent it out to me."

Looking around, she brushed her fingers against the seat. "How long am I supposed to stay here?"

"As long as you need to get back on your feet."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with this arrangement," she said.

"It's the best thing I can do for you."

In the silence, I couldn't help but be sucked in by her persuasive eyes. I never realized before how time was so much like water; that it can pass slowly, a drop at a time, or rush by in a blink. This time, it passed slowly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

There was a wildness within her eyes sparkling like the fire inside in my belly. Passion, desire, and the bitter taste of lust floated through the air.

"I'm just trying to piece you together."

"And? What have you come up with so far?"

"You like beautiful things, Edward. You enjoy watching them, keeping them close, but not touching them least you damage them with your damage. That's why you like me and yet hold me at a distance. I'm trying to understand why."

"You said that you were afraid of me."

She shrugged. "I am not afraid. I'm just trying to understand. I could ask, but you're the type of person who only tells people what they want to hear."

Maria watched me gain the control that had momentary slipped. I inhaled deeply but inaudibly, letting out my breath before I said, "you're giving me too much credit. I'm not that complex. Also, you're not a project for me. I'm trying to protect you from something I dragged you into."

"Last time we talked, you said that you didn't want to tell me the truth because you didn't want to trap me. What if I was okay with being trapped if I got to the bottom of things? What if it was my choice?"

Under my brief gaze she didn't withdraw or flinch, but neither did she step forward to be seen. "Have you read any Shakespeare books?"

"No."

"In Henry, the fourth part two, there is a famous line that says: "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."

"You don't have to wear the crown alone. You have choices."

"I have ultimatums, not choices. I'm either a liability or an asset to everyone around me."

"And I'm making it clear that you can be an asset to me if you chose to. I want something in return for the truth that you think will put me in danger. Think of it as a business transaction."

Our eyes met and held.

"That's not the kind of business transaction that interests me."

"No man is an island, Edward."

"Some are. I'm better off alone."

"And how is that?"

"It's safer."

"I don't think so," she said. "Sooner rather than later, you're going to have to trust someone."

"Trust? That's not something I come by very easily."

The sofa squeaked as she collapsed into it. There was a steadiness to her as if all the storms in the world were a whispering breeze if she was there. Her head lolled down to one shoulder casting her hair onto the faded t-shirt that was two sizes too big.

"Can you join me for lunch with my uncle this coming weekend?"