Initially D. T. Schmidt had been employed by the law firm of Bellicose, Bellicose and Otter, but -- after an unfortunate incident while making a Careers Day presentation to students of the Philadelphia Public School System that involved dressing up as Abraham Lincoln -- had been obliged to take up the obsolescent profession of door-to-door salesman of shoes in the days when people bought shoes primarily over the internet and just couldn't seem to wrap their minds around the concept of a man coming to the door selling them. Frequently he would have to get their email addresses and send them some spam before they would even let him in the door. Today he was standing on the coast of the Cape of Good Hope, and his wife Jane had just run off with a man who bore a strong resemblance to George Washington, which meant that his worst fear had been realized: he was living in a Tom Holt novel.
"Don't drag me into this," said Tom
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