My dear fellow members of the Agatha Christie fan club, as club President, I speak to you today in a time of intense sadness for our organization. It has now been two weeks since our newest member, my dear friend Fred, has died, and unfortunately, the police are no closer to cracking his case. His death remains an enigma, no matter how many times I visit his grave, no matter how many times I unearth his casket, and no matter how many times I interrogate him.

Hello, Hells Angels. I know it must be a surprise to see me up here—after all, most of you know me as Demon’s Claw, your New Initiate. But in reality, my name is Chet, and I’m a McKinsey Associate. Your president hired me last month to conduct a full review of the club and identify strategies for modernizing it, so I went undercover. I imagine some of you questioned why the new guy who couldn’t shoot a gun—or even ride a motorcycle—was trying to join Hells Angels, but I hope I won you over with my deep knowledge of the history of this organization and a seemingly endless supply of vulgar T-shirts.