“Yes, who is it please?” came an Indian voice from the other side of the door.
“It's Henry.”
“Henry who, please?”
Here we go again, thought Jekyll.
“Henry Jekyll. Come on, Mandeep, open up. Who the hell else is it going to be?”
“One moment please.”
The door was unlocked painfully slowly, but finally opened.
“Identification please,” demanded the diminutive Indian gentleman, standing before him with an outstretched hand.
“What do you mean identification? For goodness sake, put your bloody glasses on, will you. It's me, Henry, your business partner.”
Mandeep Singh fumbled in his jacket pocket and extracted his spectacles, and popped them onto his pudgy face.
“Ah, Mr. Jekyll, come in please.”
“At last. And how many times have I told you to call me Henry?” said Jekyll, stepping over
