I stood next to the tall marble column by the main teller counter inside First National Bank.

My hands rested lightly on the handle of my leather briefcase.

Arthur came in through the brass-trimmed glass double doors at ten past ten in his dark wool topcoat and wool scarf.

He walked with his chin up, holding a thick leather document portfolio under his arm like a prize.

He spotted me standing by the velvet rope line and stopped short on the polished terrazzo floor.

Arthur moved closer, rubbing the heavy gold signet ring on his pinky against the sleeve of his wool coat.