Wilkins woke up in a cold sweat. Last thing he remembered before he blacked out, he had just left the park after buying a balloon. He tried to move, only to realize his body was restrained to the chair by hardened hemp. His mouth as well, with the twine of the rope poking and prodding at his lips. He screamed, albeit muffled, as he looked down and saw that he couldn't even move his feet. Try as he had might, he couldn't get them to budge.
Could be because he was seeing large cement blocks instead of his usual shoes.
"Mr. Wilkins, fancy of you to have waken up." The intimidating voice caused Wilkins to look to the man in the fine dressed suit. Despite this, the man's face was far from proper. His hair was long and greasy, not to mention his mouth was covered in a 5 o'clock shadow. He took the rope off his mouth, a slight relief from the pain, but nothing to alleviate his fear.
"Who are you? Where am I?!" Wilkins asked the man.
"Why would I be answering that? You should already know who I am." He said. Wilkins just shook his head.
"No… I don't remember you!" The man laughed at Wilkins's plea.
"But you do remember Mr. Bannister, right?" Wilkins wracked his aching head to remember who Mr. Bannister was. He knew he was an influential businessman, albeit a rather infamous peddler of prohibited alcohol who only kept his head above water because of his uncanny insistency to pay his taxes long before they're due, though he had Wilkins to thank for that. So why? Why did he decide that after years of cooperation, that Mr. Bannister would just toss that away?
"Yes, I do, but what does it have to do with me!?" Wilkins shouted. Bannister… Bannister… Bannis…
"From what we heard, you got fired for fraudulence. Not sure what exactly…" As the man said that, it all clicked.
Banks…
He remembered what he had did earlier in the week. After the Banks first spoke to him regarding the loan, he burnt any collection of George Banks's old shares records… As the Banks and Bannisters were loyal with the bank, they would almost always be seen side by side in any and all…
Files…
Which he disposed of…
"Please! I beg of you! If this is about the missing tax files, I can pull some strings and get that information back!" Wilkins said. The man shook his head.
"See, that's mighty kind of you, but again, you got fired for fraud. Not sure on what, but Mr. Bannister's worried that if there's any investigation on his matters, it's gonna land him in hot water. Not sure if you've heard, but when Mr. Bannister gets worried… The problems he has… disappear." The man opened the door. Not much light shown in save for the small lamps that were lit, but it was enough for Wilkins to recognize that he was close to a bridge. His time was coming.
"No! No! You can't do this! Do you know who my great-uncle is!? He'll go after you if even a hair is placed on my chin!" He shouted as the man untied him and dragged him out of the abandoned building, they were in.
"You're really not in a position to beg right now, Mr. Wilkins. So please," Wilkins tried his hardest to stand still, to prevent himself from taking another inch towards the bridge's railings, "stop stalling!" He dragged Wilkins onto the bridge. As his chest hit the metal, he coughed. The man pulled Wilkins's head up as he saw the former banker began to weep.
"Please… Don't kill me! I'll do anything! ANYTHING!" He sniveled. The man scoffed.
"They sent a hound to deal with a sheep in wolf's clothing…" He muttered. "Little help here?" He asked a second man… A big one. As Wilkins saw the massive, man with a face full of hair, Wilkins finally recognized who these two were. They were Tyrone Bannister's most loyal hitmen, two brothers who were never seen apart. He had heard rumors of them, but he had known of the older brother's towering height and muscle, as though he were a moving mountain. True to his moniker, the Mountain hoisted Wilkins up onto the railings in spite of the cement shoes.
"Money! You like money, right? I know the combination to the vault! My great-uncle has Alzheimer's, he wouldn't be bothered to remember changing it!" Wilkins began to cackle as he looked into the River Thames.
"Just a few more seconds, Greg, and we don't have to hear another word coming out of his fucking mouth." The Hound got onto the railings. "Know this, William Weatherall Wilkins… A Bannister always pays his debt." He pushed Wilkins off the bridge.
Wilkins screamed for his dear life, praying someone would come and save him… It was the last mistake he made as he crashed into the water. Instantly, the cold water filled his lungs and he tried desperately to breathe the air that he no longer had, all the while, he just kept sinking to the bottom. Earlier in the day, he had a conversation with a balloon seller about picking the right balloon. He chose poorly and was told that there was nowhere to go but up…
Though, as he by looking at the abyss below him, there's also nowhere to go but down.