A black raven perched on the stone, white building while the rain pelted against a ligneous sign which read: “Suzanne Hopper’s Convenience Store”. The raven turned its head to the left and watched as an azure Volkswagen sped past the city library and came to a halt outside the grey two-football-pitches–long warehouse which was located to the right of Hopper’s. Inside the automobile, a lanky man with gelled black hair and a pinstripe suit sat in the driver’s seat drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. This is it, Derek Rive thought as he stared dismally at his silver ring, If I fail in this job I can kiss Winnie goodbye. With that cheerful notion planted firmly in his head, Derek prevented the radio from singing any more of Bruno Mars’ “When I was Your Man” and opened the door to his left. With one glum look at the bird on the convenience store, Derek opened the door leading into Jacob Eep’s Landrover Factory and closed his eyes. There was no turning back from this imminent doom. Derek stepped inside the warehouse and the raven flew away. Derek looked instinctively at the giant, Land Rover-sized gate to his left as he entered, before he stepped forward, past the metallic stairs leading to the PR and Board offices on the “second” floor and made his way through a swarm of white uniform–clad employees. While only the ceiling’s central spotlights shone, Derek strangely felt that the spotlights were on him as he filed through the employees and came to a rest alongside his friend, the hunched, balding Chace Hara.        ‘Where’s Wally?’ Derek asked. He glanced around and frowned: the needle was not in the haystack.        ‘I d’no,’ Chace said, scratching his nose. ‘Prob’ly off...