The Journal of Jonathon Lindey From the main part of the journal - Page 9
My new peace of mind lasted exactly three days. My manager came into my office and announced that my report had gone missing. "Ye Gods man!", he exclaimed. "Are you all right? You've gone completely ashen." Helping me back into the chair from which I had involuntarily risen, he insisted I take a swig out of his hip flask. The fiery liquid splashed down my throat and restored my wits somewhat. Still choking from the alcohol I managed to ask if there were any indications as to how the report had vanished. "Not at the moment", he admitted, "but the police have been called in. Now tell me.", he demanded, "Why were you so shocked?" I was still a little incoherent - as much from his firebrand alcohol as from the shock - but little by little he coaxed the full story out of me. Looking grave he suggested that I tell the police everything when they came to interview me. They would, he was confident, assist in sorting this all out. Frankly, I had my doubts. He then explained that he had actually come to ask me if I had my own copy of the report, so that a new file copy could be made. I shook my head and he looked a little dashed. However, when I said that I believed I still had my notes somewhere he perked up a little. We searched my office for the notes, but they were nowhere to be found. It was at this stage I realised they were probably still in my rooms at my lodgings, because I had taken them home to complete the final draft the night before I handed it in. I offered to go and fetch them, but my manager said it could wait and that I should bring them in tomorrow and take the time to recreate the report. He felt sure that this time notice would be taken of the report. I was inclined to agree, but still had some doubts. |
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