"You make almost twice as much as I do," Derrence said, some bitterness investing his voice. "Twenty a week should be enough to give you a few extra sessions in ... mental improvement." "Agreed," Tzadi said. Derrence covered his surprise, and his discomfort. This wasn't a man adept in the shakedown, the way a company spy should be. This was a man pleasantly surprised by a windfall! "For that," Derrence said, "I expect absolute silence. You understand me, don't you?" "Yes. I do. You can count on me, Der." "Good," Derrence muttered, fighting the awful feeling that he'd thrown away a hefty slice of income for nothing. Yet Tzadi _had_ information which could hurt him. Tzadi _had_ known Mercy before today and lied about it. Tzadi _had_ said he needed "help" with a personal problem. * * * * * They ordered. Tzadi ate lightly for a fat man; he left more than half his meal. As soon as he pushed away his plate, he said, "I wonder if you'd be kind enough to help me in another way, Der." Derrence stopped chewing; then swallowed and took a sip of water. "Another way," he said flatly. So money _hadn't_ been Tzadi's object. "Yes. I ... uh...." For the first time, Tzadi showed uncertainty, even embarrassment. "Just as you're in trouble because of what I know, I'm in trouble because of what someone else knows. And actually, this someone else knows that I know about you." "You mean you have to pay off...." "No. She won't accept a bribe. Not money, not position, not anything. She wants me to ... turn you in." Derrence stared at Tzadi. "Then what can I possibly do?" Tzadi dropped his eyes. "Do away with her," he whispered. They sat quietly for a good five minutes, Tzadi looking at the table, Derrence staring at Tzadi. Then Derrence said, "What does she know about you, Tzadi? I mean, what's the _real_ reason you want her killed? You'll never make me believe it's just that she knows you know about me. You'd simply turn me in and the problem would be solved!" Tzadi looked up. "I've told you the truth. I don't want to turn you in. She insists that I do. She's given me until next Monday--that's seven days, counting today. I have an office on the 41st floor. I moved down to 36 to meet you, personally; to decide whether I could turn you in. And I can't." Derrence laughed. Tzadi nodded. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but you represent something to me. Something unique and important and...." He stopped. He said, "We'll forget the twenty a week, though I desperately need extra money. If you will do away with Mercy Adrians...." "Mercy? My secretary? _She_ insists that you turn me in?" "Yes. Do away with her and you can continue with your job, your life, as if nothing had happened. Let her live...." He shrugged. Again Derrence laughed. "You assume my job means enough to me so that I'd _kill_ for it?" "I hope so," Tzadi whispered. "I fervently hope so." "Well it doesn't," Derrence snapped, and looked around for the waiter.