Empress Hotel, afternoon, Manny 3 and Ted Fanshawe
Coming to the City for a Sunday morning meeting was no real problem because Ted had been in Chicago anyway. Of course it had meant flying over night to be there at the set time of eight am, and there fore no sleep, but Ted could catch up again on the long haul flight home.
The meeting had been most satisfactory. Lunch had been adequate. But the bar here had forty year old malt from a distillery in the Islands that had long ago bee subsumed by their parent company and Ted saw no reason why he shouldn't make a dent in it.
"Another for you Manny?" he asked, the bottle poised over his glass.