"Pheroze! Pheroze! Where are you? I hope this isn't some prank where you try to scare the living daylights out of me," exclaimed Lady Flora, doing her best to locate her walking companion. It worried her even more because she had come all the way to his pedestal but there was no sign of him. "Could he have been kidnapped?" she wondered. But who would want to commit such an act on a genteel old Parsi barrister?

"Lady! Lady! Up here," a faint voice could be heard. Lady Flora had to crane her neck and take a few steps back to check where the sound was originating from. To her shock and surprise, she spotted the outline of her friend against the façade of his former office, the BMC building. He was precariously placed beside a gargoyle as he tried to gain a foothold. "What are you doing there, Pheroze? Come down right now, for God's sake. Have you lost your mind!" she was stumped over why her friend would attempt such a bizarre stunt. About 15 minutes later, Sir PM emerged from the main entrance. He was out of breath, and pearls of sweat glistened from his temples. "This was just a recce, Lady," he began, haltingly, in between taking long, deep breaths. "Recce for what, Pheroze? Lady Flora questioned him; her anger was beginning to spill over.