Over all, it appeared to be some sort of drug or money laundering front that was having a terribly difficult time of not coming across as both.

Kelvin could request favors within the administration easily, as those marionette strings looked remarkably like lines of ink that read 'Pay to the Order of'.

The payroll department was the only organized department they had, carefully and tediously ensuring no one was ever overpaid.

...they were mixing and mingling their powerful supporters together like a hearty granola of golfballs and checkbooks.

The large office had been deliberately designed so that the two sub-terranian levels were just the tiniest bit smaller, so that the building was proudly 51% conducting honest and open business, and only 49% not. Inkle and Kelvin had felt a boost of confidence from their manufactured technicality, similar to the comfort that survey results can provide when carefully polling groups more likely to give you comforting numbers.

The doors closed behind him, and Kelvin was swallowed into the elevator shaft that took him back down to the belly of his self-made monster.

Mens formalwear is not conducive to such un-refined things as cowering in an office corner, or curling up in the fetal position on a desk.

They had not just slipped into that frigid pool, they lived there now. They didn't want a ladder.