TWENTY-SEVEN
Oliver rang the doorbell at a posh condominium complex. He clutched a packet of documents carefully behind his back to hide them from the camera imbedded into the doorbell.
“Who are you?” demanded the voice from within.
“I have a financial document for Stuart Casarez,” announced Oliver in a professional tone.
“I’ve been expecting it,” said the voice enthusiastically. “Wait right there.”
Oliver stifled a chuckle. You are clearly mistaken. He acknowledged that the financial document in his hand was not the one that Stuart Casarez expected. He nevertheless thanked the fates that he arrived on the doorstep of the target on the same day that the target expected a windfall of some sort. He pointed his ear closer to the door to decipher the impending footsteps.
“I’ve been w
