25 November 2011
I made it back to the office at 3.40pm. A long lunch even by my standards. My secretary was reading a magazine article about a reality tv show. This was unfortunate. 'John asked me to let him know when you're in.' John is my business partner. I'd recently arranged to have his office bugged, but the surveillance experts had targeted the wrong office. I now had access to my own conversations, which proved even more absurd on second listening. 'Wait till I'm gone'. I'd started lowering my secretary's chair a few millimetres every day after she went home. Every few weeks she'd raise it and the cycle would begin again. 'Natalie', I buzzed from my office, 'I need you to look up something called 'Excess insurance' for me -I keep seeing adverts for it everywhere'. 'It's insurance on the excess you pay if you make an insurance claim'. 'Insurance for my insurance?'. 'I guess so, ye.' 'And is there insurance on that insurance too?' She muttered something, but I wasn't listening anymore. I was deflated. My best pranks looked empty and childish in the face of this ingenious Ponzi scheme. I was reminded of something an old boss had said to me: 'You never know what the guy in the office across the road is scheming.' I snatched up the phone to call Spotless Security regarding my un-surveilled business partner.
(to be continued)
Arbitrage - Part II • Opuss № I