He strutted forward with all the graceful power of the masterful male lion padding through his kingdom. Indeed, the king was home and all the household servants, ground keepers, people who chauffeured him and everybody else who received his money twice a month had better bloody well know it immediately or sooner that the Mighty One was present, if they wanted to keep their jobs, skins, asses and so on. He roared into his mansion, growling commands in every direction as he headed for his favorite leather chair in the library. Exactly two seconds after he was seated Davis appeared with three things: an enormous silver urn full of coffee, a silver humidor containing a secret cache of the very best imported Cuban cigars, and a telephone with enough control buttons to baffle a computer genius. Terrence Hawkins Archibald O’Brien put a Cuban in his mouth while Davis supplied the silver lighter and the flame. Terrence Hawkins Archibald O’Brien inhaled and exhaled three times before he said, “Thank you, Davis.
