Tzadi blinked his eyes. "I met her this morning. You know these young girls--friendly as kittens." Derrence nodded, but maintained his smile. Mercy only _looked_ like Venus. Actually, she was shy and reserved, especially with strangers. For her to say, "Hi, Ed," required a minimum of several weeks acquaintanceship. That meant she had met Tzadi _before_ he came to this floor. That meant she was--unwittingly, perhaps--an accomplice of Tzadi's. Which in turn meant that the fat man had all the information he needed to get Derrence fired. But it no longer bothered Derrence. He and Tzadi were going to make a deal. He would bet his life on it. They walked into the hall. Derrence said, "Well, Ed, it's going to be a long, interesting lunch. Shall we splurge and try Manfredo's? They have a degree of privacy which, I'm sure, we'll both appreciate." Tzadi nodded. "Whatever you say, Der." "I say Manfredo's." He chuckled. Might as well make the best of it. So his comfortable life was going to suffer changes. So the brandy wouldn't be the best, and he'd buy his suits on sale, and he'd lunch three or four times a week in the company cafeteria. It might even mean giving up his beloved Sutton Place apartment. But he'd still be better off than if he had to hunt for a new job ... and actually work. * * * * * They started with vodka Gibsons. Derrence gulped his, and was ready for another. Tzadi, however, merely sipped once, and then read the menu. Derrence decided he couldn't relax _too_ much. There was going to be some hard bargaining. Tzadi said, "It's very nice here, but rather expensive. I would like to be able to afford Manfredo's, but I doubt...." "What do you earn?" Derrence asked bluntly. Tzadi looked at him. "Twenty thousand." Derrence was startled. "Really? That's very high for a PR writer ... or even a company investigator." Tzadi smiled. "You know what they say. No matter what you earn, you always need more." "And you need more?" "Yes. I have hidden expenses." "Like what?" Again Tzadi smiled. "Now, Der, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Try me." "Mental improvement. It costs me ten thousand a year and up to maintain the rate of growth I desire." "You mean college courses and books and such things cost you _ten thousand_ a year?" "I said you wouldn't believe me." "So you did," Derrence muttered. "Shall we order?" Derrence decided the time had come. "How much?" he asked quietly. Tzadi was looking around the room. He turned to Derrence. "I beg your pardon?" "How much do you want?" Tzadi stared at him; then his head jerked slightly and he smiled and said, "Ah, yes. How much. For my silence. I see. That _would_ be the way, wouldn't it?" Derrence didn't understand the man's reaction. It was almost as if money had never entered Tzadi's head before this moment. But if it hadn't been money.... Tzadi said, "How much would you consider equitable?"