Zero History

“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What does Garreth want Fiona to do? Do you know that?”
“Fly a video drone. When they do it.”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. Get Chombo back.”
Winnie frowned at him, drummed the fingers of one hand on a pant-suited knee,
looked away, then quickly back. “Thank God for leave en route.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Garreth,” she said.
“Garreth?”
“You’re arranging for me to speak with him. Soonest. Tonight.”
Milgrim looked at the St. Christopher. “I can try. But …”
“But what?”
“Don’t bring him.” Indicating the retired Scotland Yard detective, but keeping his hands
below the level of the dashboard.
“By phone. And not my phone, either. He’ll have a number that’s a throwaway. Get me
that.”
“Why do you want to talk with him? He’ll ask me.”
“He’s building something. He’s building it for Gracie. I don’t want to know what it is.
At all. The kidnapping angle puts things in a different light.”
“Why?”
“Makes me think Gracie is indulging himself, over here. Kind of midlife adventure.
Kidnapping. Sort of like a red convertible, for a certain kind of guy. Businessman, in his
position, can’t afford it. At all. But they don’t actually teach you business, in the schools.
He doesn’t know that, though.”
“What should I tell Garreth?”
“Tell him it won’t take long. He won’t have to tell me anything, admit to anything,
provide any information. It won’t be recorded. He can use voice-distortion software,
which he will anyway, unless he really is an amateur, in which case you’re all liable to
wind up with Mike all over you, real soon now, and there’s nothing I’ll be able to do
about it. Tell him I have an Easter egg for him. And what I’ll give him isn’t mine, in any
way. Nothing to do with me.”
“Why should he believe you?”
“Context. If he’s any good, he’ll be able to find out who I am, and see where I’m
coming from. But what he won’t get, from that, is that I’ve got a hard-on for Gracie.
That’s up to you. You’ve got to convey that. That it’s just personal that way.” She smiled,
in a way that Milgrim didn’t like. “Maybe it’s my midlife adventure.”
“Okay,” said Milgrim, not feeling in any way that it was.
“Tell me something, though.”
“What?”