“Let me get this straight,” said Gideon, sitting on a lounge chair in a dark room. “You drove up to this mansion and waited for instructions. That’s when a stranger ran around the corner like he was being chased by a pack of demons. He got in your car and immediately made you his hostage, telling you to drive as fast as you could. You did so, and my man Lorenzo gave chase. Apparently, this man had mistaken you for the commercial tinting expert based near Melbourne that arrived later in the day. When he and his boss realised that you are not a commercial window tinter, they threw you in the back of their car and drove you here.”
Redman sat silently for a long moment, tips of his fingers pressed to his lips. “That is correct,” he said simply.
Gideon shrugged. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. In New Melbourne, good window tinters are hard to come by. We did have the best of them come around today, and there are a few groups I could definitely see trying something like this. After all, decorative window film, close to Melbourne, is rarely done right. You said you didn’t get any details?”
Redman shook his head. “None. They had my head bagged the entire time. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“Oh, no, you’ve been extremely helpful, Mr Redman.” Gideon gave a toothy grin, then looked to Lorenzo, who stood behind Redman. “The Zircon Clan has begun making moves against us. They’ll use professional window tinting to draw people away from New Melbourne. A strong incentive.”
“Master, perhaps we should allow Redman to head home for the evening,” said Lorenzo. “I’m sure he’s eager to get a nice, long rest. Besides, this discussion is perhaps one we should have in private.”
Gideon nodded. “Yes, you’re right, my friend.” He looked at Redman once again. “You may go. Please inform your friends that whoever is available tomorrow should meet us at the beaches of New Dromana. We have work to begin.”