Written using 
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It's Laundry Day
The message on the secured app flashed up on his phone. He looked at it and quickly deleted it.
Smiling at the woman across the table he stood up.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I have a slight problem at home," the lie came easily. "One of my children is sick. We will have to reschedule this meeting."
He called the waiter over and gave him his credit card. The client appeared understanding, but even if she resented the way he ended this meeting, it hardly mattered now.
The business was collapsing. The jig was up. The game was coming to an end.
It was time to clean things up.
Damage limitation. If he could, he might escape with his life and his freedom.
His car was waiting for him outside the restaurant. He didn't need to tell the driver where to go: she would have been informed by a message too.
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