Later that evening, Harry was called into the office. Charles had told him that it was urgent but didn’t mention any specifics. It was raining when Harry wandered alone through Brindleton Bay to tell Arnie, who didn't have a telephone, that they had work to do. The air was stifling and felt ominous - like a thunderstorm would roll in at any moment.
"Charles wants us to do some work for him", Harry announced as he came through the door and shook the rain off his coat.
"At this hour?", said Arnie and shook his head. “Do you know what this could be about?”
"I have no idea", said Harry and shrugged. "But it's probably not good when he wants to meet us at such short notice."
It was unusual for them to meet Charles in the warehouse. He usually preferred to stay inside the office. They smoked the cigarettes he had offered and awaited orders, but this time it took a while before their boss said anything. The atmosphere was tense as the thunder rumbled outside and they could both feel that something was wrong.
"We have a problem", he finally said. "You see, one of you boys has gone behind my back."
"What do you mean?" Harry said, a chill passing through his body. Suddenly his senses were sharpened. “You know you can trust us.”
"Did you really think I wouldn't find out about your affair with my wife?" Charles said, turning directly to Arnie.
Harry's heart sank as he realized that this situation was serious. Neither he nor Arnie would be able to talk their way out of this like they usually did.
Then, without warning, Charles pulled out his gun that he'd kept hidden inside his coat. Arnie held out his hands to protect himself, but it was hopeless. A deafening shot was fired and his body fell to the ground before Harry could react.
Everything happened in a few seconds. Harry dropped to his knees and held his best friend as he took one last wheezing breath. An eerie silence filled the room as he tried to understand what had just occurred. He didn't know what to do, other than cling to his friend's body.
"He's dead," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
"Good," Charles said coldly, walking towards Harry with the gun still in his hand. "Because I'm not done yet."