Het sat in a car in the McDonald's car park. He was thinking out loud. "Where should I go." He was making clucking sounds with his tongue. Flicking. "Maybe I'll open a bar." His minder interrupted his quiet time after twenty minutes.
"Did you damage it?"
"No, the lock was clean."
"Did anyone see you?"
"No."
"Have you left anything in the car?"
"No."
"Okay, sir, it's time to go."

Curzon phoned soon afterwards, as though he'd been reading a schedule of Het's time, and saw that there was a gap in his avant-garde appointments.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"I'm on an island."
"I'm outside a gallery."
"Which one?"
"Near the vegan bakery."
"Have you decided what to do?"
"Niet, not yet."
"Rhymes with Het."
"No, I changed my name."
"What to?"
"Luca."
"Okay."
On different continents, they stared at their hands.
"Luca?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll be back by the weekend."
"Okay. Well... I've got to go."
"No you don't."
"I want to go now."
"Allright, I'll see you soon."
"Sure... okay."
Luca handed his phone back to his minder, and sat on the kerb to think awhile.