An old feeling inside James wanted to shake Sam hard and ask whatever he knew. But he was drunk and probably wouldn’t tell him a thing once he turned sober, unless, of course, an official enquiry was launched.
‘What do you want to say? There have been more deaths in here?’ asked James.
Sam now pressed his forehead with his hands and said, ‘My head is aching My head is paining.’
‘Sam, answer my question,’ said James in a stern tone.
‘Can’t you see, man? My head is paining. I need some medicine,’ said Sam irritably.
‘I do have medicine. Answer my question first.’
‘Give me the medici—’
Just then, a man in a suit motioned to Sam to bring him a drink. He hurried away, leaving behind an angry James. He then went away to survey the casino. Towards the far left corner from the restroom area was the restricted area where only the employees were permitted. That was James’s destination. He walked towards the entrance and pretended to admire the painting hanging on the adjacent wall while hurriedly studying the entrance. It was a heavy steel door with a swap card entrance.
‘So all I need is a security card. That means I’ll need Sam Paul,’ said James to himself.
He went off to look for Sam. After five minutes, he found him leaning against the bar counter. He stood beside him and asked, ‘So, Sam, remember me?’
‘Of course. How can I forget your face? We used to go fishing together, didn’t we?’ asked Sam.
James was not surprised at this absurd answer. After all, Sam was now 90 per cent drunk.
‘Yeah. Every Sunday, right?’
Sam frowned and replied, ‘You’ve got a poor memory, man. We used to go fishing back when we were teenagers.’
‘Sorry. Of course I know. I was just kidding,’ said James awkwardly.
‘It’s sad. They won’t let me have another pint. They say am drunk. I am very much sober, right, pal?’
‘Right, Sam, you are sober. You know what? I can get a drink for you,’ offered James.
‘Really? Am so glad I chose you as my student. I am so proud of you. You’ll become the president . . .’ James ignored Sam’s blabbering and ordered a scotch. He motioned for Sam to follow him. Along the way to the restroom, Sam kept saying rubbish. ‘Hey, man, when are you coming to school? I did beat you at soccer last summer . . . You owe me one million bucks . . . My chicken flew over to your garden last night. I want it back or I’ll sue you.’
James couldn’t help laughing at the last sentence. He replied, ‘Sorry, Sam, but I ate and cooked it this afternoon.’
‘What? You want to be my cook?’ Sam continued with his jabbering.
The gents’ room was empty when they reached there. James kept his glass on the counter. And pointing to it, he turned to Sam and asked, ‘Want it?’
Sam started walking towards it but never got it. Sam was strong, but he was drunk and hence was now lying on the floor, knocked out by James. He pulled him by the arms and dropped him inside a cubicle. He removed his coat and kept it on the counter while he himself wore Sam’s tuxedo. He fished inside the pockets and found the swap card he was looking for. He made his hair and patted his shirt when the door of the restroom flew open. Another drunken waiter entered with a drink in his hands. He leaned against the counter and said, ‘Crazy night, huh?’
James nodded in affirmative.
‘But we still gotta sneak out to have a pint in peace. Running here and there all night is not my thing. But then we don’t have a choice, do we?’ he asked.
‘Well, you can do that. I’ve to go now,’ said James.
‘Mind if I drink that? You don’t seem to miss it,’ the guy said, pointing to the glass on the counter.
‘Sure.’
‘What’s your name, buddy? I gotta remember a friend like you.’
‘No need. It’s okay,’ said James as he started walking towards the door.
Just then, the man grabbed his arm from behind. James turned around and looked him in the eyes and said angrily, ‘What?’
‘Nothing really. I forgot to say thanks.’ While saying this, he looked at the nameplate on the tuxedo and then at James’s face and again back at the nameplate. ‘Hey, you’re not—’
But before he could finish his sentence, James threw the remainder of the drink in the glass on to his face. The guy was too drunk to make sense of what had just happened to him. James left the washroom, confident of the fact that he won’t be recognized easily by the same guy.
He then headed towards the painting adjacent to the restricted section. He was looking for cameras. He found one that was facing the entrance but obviously had a blind spot. All he had to do was keep his face turned towards the painting and move sideways, after which he had to duck his head and keep his back towards the camera. He swapped the card in the machine and was inside within moments. He looked for more cameras, but he found none. Door security was enough to filter out employees. He was inside a very large grey room. On the right-hand side was a large dining table, followed by a door leading to the kitchen. Along the wall were lockers for the employees and another door leading to the bathroom. On the left side was an office table, and behind it were various shelves holding files and papers. At the left hand corner was a Xerox machine and a fax machine. Two other employees were seated on the dining chairs and were having a deep conversation. They ignored him. He went to the shelves where everything was alphabetically arranged. Under the E section, he found the list of employees and ex-employees file. He switched on the Xerox machine to copy them until one of the seated guys called out, ‘Hey, what are you doing that for?’
‘Just some business,’ replied James.
‘Well, you should know better than to go about that business without my permission. How drunk are you? What do you need that for?’
‘The head at table 12 is missing his companions. He asked for the attendance sheet. That’s what I am doing.’
‘Is that so? Why didn’t he get the clearance from me?’
‘I don’t see you there in the crowd, and I don’t see how he could leave the table just like that. You’ve any other solution?’
The guy made a face and dismissed him and continued with his conversation. James copied the files and left. He went inside the restroom to study the files. Within the time frame of the last ten years, ten people’s names were listed under the ex-employees list, four of which had retired at the age of fifty-five to sixty, and six of them were dead in their middle age. One of them was also an ex-manager. James rolled the papers and kept it inside his pocket. He threw Sam’s tuxedo and wore his coat, which was still untouched on the counter, and headed for the exit. He kept repeating inside his head, Something really fishy is going on here.