Chapter 4: The Chair

At two o'clock sharp, the Brantleys walked into the boardroom on the forty-fourth floor of Dunhill Tower.

There were four of them.

Carter's father went first with a leather folder under his arm, and Carter followed him in a fresh suit.

Margaret came next, and Lydia walked in last, because Carter had told the front desk she was "family."

The boardroom held nine Dunhill directors, all of them seated, and one empty chair at the head of the long table.

A small brass nameplate sat in front of that chair, turned toward the door.

I was waiting behind the glass wall of the office next door in a black suit, with Jack at my shoulder.

"They're all in," he said.

"Which one sits first?"

"Mr. Brantley. He always takes the chair nearest the head."

"Of course he does."

I watched Carter's father put his folder on the table and smile at the directors.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for seeing us on short notice. I know the chair of Dunhill is a private man, and we are honored he agreed to meet."

Nobody answered him.

"Is he running late?" Carter asked.

One of the directors looked at her watch.

"Not at all," she said.

I opened the door.

The room turned.

Carter's father was still smiling when I walked past him, and I stopped at the head of the table and rested my hand on the back of the empty chair.

Carter saw me, and his mouth came open.

Lydia made a small sound in her throat.

"Iris?" Carter said. "What are you doing here? This is a private meeting."

"It is."

I pulled out the chair and sat.

"Good afternoon," I said. "I'm Iris Dunhill Bannon. I chair Dunhill Group."

The brass nameplate read I. D. BANNON, CHAIR.

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