“Nice to see you again, Mr...uh...”  The bank manager groped for a moment.

“McGinty.  How are you today?”  McGinty’s smile was hollow.  He had deliberately avoided Mrs. Varkenee.  He wanted to call as little attention to this piece of business as possible.

She glanced down at some paperwork that a young woman was in the process of filling out for McGinty.  “Opening a safe deposit box?  That's an excellent idea.  You know, that product of yours is much too valuable to be left around the house, when you're not using it for your presentations and so forth.”

McGinty nodded, but did not attempt to answer.

“And you know, we have extended hours these days.  You can just stop by for it the afternoon before you're scheduled to show it.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind,” McGinty replied weakly.  He saw no reason to tell her that he didn’t foresee taking the product out again.

“Or if something comes up really quickly, you could even just call us first thing on the day you need it.  We're in here for quite a while before we actually open the doors, and since we know you now, we could slip you in.”

"That's really very kind of you," he said.

The branch manager smiled broadly, then walked off to look after some other item of business.  McGinty and the young woman who was helping him stood, pushed back their chairs, and walked to the safe deposit box area.

He soon re-emerged, his hands empty of the bag and the bottle.

He walked with great deliberation out the front door, then down a short stretch of sidewalk to a bench at a bus stop.  He took a seat and exhaled audibly.

He looked at his empty hands.  There was much less that he had to do now.  For that, he was relieved.

He tried not to think about how his grandson's face would look when he told him what had happened.