William Palmer was a worried man.

Looking at him, you would not think so. For one thing, he was one of those tall, thin people who always looked as if he’d just stepped out of his walk-in closet, having been outfitted by his valet.

You know the type – not a curl out of place, knife-edge crease on trousers, stiff collar, tie hanging just where it should be – point covering the buckle of a belt that was exactly the same shade as his burgundy Florsheims and perfectly blended with his cordovan suit.

Successful executive – you might have guessed – in sales perhaps … or marketing.

Not a care in the world, said his unruffled brow.

Everything’s fine, said the steady hands that held the copper-finished Newsreader.

Not even Environment Canada’s prediction of winter to rival the harshness of 2010’s disturbed the calm of William Palmer’s features.

But William Palmer was a worried man indeed, and it had nothing to do with the headlines for October 31st, 2013 . . .