Zero History

that way. A one-off. If he tells you he thinks he can get Bobby back, and neutralize this
threat for you, then …”
“Yes?”
“Then he thinks he can.”
“And what would you propose I do, then,” Bigend said to Garreth, “if I were to accept
your help?”
“I’d need an idea of whatever tactical resources you may have, in London, if any, that
remain uncompromised. I’d need an open operational budget. I’ll have to hire some
specialists. Expenses.”
“And how much do you want yourself, Mr. Wilson?”
“I don’t,” said Garreth. “Not money. If I can do this to my own satisfaction, and I
imagine that that would be to yours as well, you’ll let Hollis go. Release her from
whatever it is she’s doing for you, pay her what she feels she’s owed, and agree to leave
her be. And if you can’t agree to that, I advise you to start looking for help elsewhere.”
Bigend, eyebrows raised, looked from Garreth to Hollis. “And you’re agreeable to
that?”
“It’s an entirely new proposition to me.” She poured herself some coffee, buying time
to think. “Actually,” she said, “I would require an additional condition.”
They both stared at her.
“The Hounds designer,” she said to Bigend. “You won’t have her. You’ll leave her
absolutely alone. Quit looking. Call everyone off, permanently.”
Bigend pursed his lips.
“And,” said Hollis, “you’ll find Meredith’s shoes. And give them to her.”
A silence followed, Bigend looking at his plate, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Well,” he said at last, looking up at them, “none of this would have been the least
attractive before seven twenty this morning, but here we are, aren’t we?”