As Sir PM approached his seating spot by a popular Irani café located around a corner inside the heart of Fort, he swore he felt someone's presence right behind him. Beads of perspiration began to trickle from his forehead. He hadn't been mugged since he had walked down Sassoon Dock for a case nearly a century ago. He felt a hand on his shoulder and let out a loud cry. To his surprise, the person turned out to be his walking companion and friend, Lady Flora

"Lady! Why are you wearing black and creeping up on me like this?" he exclaimed, his heart still pounding. She didn't expect the extreme reaction, and profusely apologised to Sir PM. She owed him an explanation for her wardrobe change. "Well, you see Pheroze, this is my way of showing my objection to what's been happening in our backyard. You do know about the rumblings at Esplanade Mansion, don't you?" Sir PM, took a few moments to give her an informed reply. "Yes, of course. That magnificent building, the toast of the city's hospitality industry in the late 1800s and early 1900s, is all set to be demolished, I hear. What a shame, Lady, but why the black robe?" he added.