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"Yes," continued Dirk into the phone, "but as I have endeavoured to explain to you, Mrs Sauskind, over the seven years of our acquaintance, I incline to the quantum mechanical view in this matter. My theory is that your cat is not lost, but that his waveform has temporarily collapsed and must be restored. Schrodinger. Planck. And so on."
Richard wrote on the note "You haven't got secretary" and pushed it back.
Dirk considered this for a while, then wrote "Damn and blast" on the paper and pushed it to Richard again.
"I grant you, Mrs Sauskind," continued Dirk blithely, "that nineteen years is, shall we say, a distinguished age for a cat to reach, yet can we allow ourselves to believe that a cat such as Roderick has not reached it?
"And should we now in the autumn of his years abandon him to his fate? This surely is the time that he most needs the support of our continuing investigations. This is the time that we should redouble our efforts, and with your permission, Mrs Sauskind, that is what I intend to do. Imagine, Mrs Sauskind, how you would face him if you had not done this simple thing for him."
Richard fidgeted with the note, shrugged to himself, and wrote "I'll get them" on it and passed it back once more.
Dirk shook his head in admonition, then wrote "I couldn't possibly that would be most kind". As soon as Richard had read this, Dirk took the note back and added "Get money from secretary" to it.
Richard looked at the paper thoughtfully, took the pencil and put a tick next to where he had previously written "You haven't got secretary". He pushed the paper back across the table to Dirk, who merely glanced at it and ticked "I couldn't possibly that would be most kind".
"Well, perhaps," continued Dirk to Mrs Sauskind, "you could just run over any of the areas in the bill that cause you difficulty. Just the broader areas."
Richard let himself out.
Running down the stairs, he passed a young hopeful in a denim jacket and close-cropped hair peering anxiously up the stairwell.
"Any good, mate?" he said to Richard.
"Amazing," murmured Richard, "just amazing."
He found a nearby newsagent's and picked up a couple of packets of Disque Bleu for Dirk, and a copy of the new edition of Personal Computer World, which had a picture of Gordon Way on the front.
"Pity about him, isn't it?" said the newsagent.
"What? Oh, er... yes," said Richard. He often thought the same himself, but was surprised to find his feelings so widely echoed. He picked up a Guardian as well, paid and left.
Dirk was still on the phone with his feet on the table when Richard returned, and it was clear that he was relaxing into his negotiations.
"Yes, expenses were, well, expensive in the Bahamas, Mrs Sauskind, it is in the nature of expenses to be so. Hence the name." He took the proffered packets of cigarettes, seemed disappointed there were only two, but briefly raised his eyebrows to Richard in acknowledgement of the favour he had done him, and then waved him to a chair.
The sounds of an argument conducted partly in French drifted down from the floor above.
"Of course I will explain to you again why the trip to the Bahamas was so vitally necessary," said Dirk Gently soothingly. "Nothing could give me greater pleasure. I believe, as you know, Mrs Sauskind, in the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. Furthermore I have plotted and triangulated the vectors of the interconnectedness of all things and traced them to a beach in Bermuda which it is therefore necessary for me to visit from time to time in the course of my investigations. I wish it were not the case, since, sadly, I am allergic to both the sun and rum punches, but then we all have our crosses to bear, do we not, Mrs Sauskind?"
A babble seemed to break out from the telephone.
"You sadden me, Mrs Sauskind. I wish I could find it in my heart to tell you that I find your scepticism rewarding and invigorating, but with the best will in the world I cannot. I am drained by it, Mrs Sauskind, drained. I think you will find an item in the bill to that effect. Let me see."
He picked up a flimsy carbon copy lying near him.
"'Detecting and triangulating the vectors of interconnectedness of all things, one hundred and fifty pounds.' We've dealt with that.
"'Tracing same to beach on Bahamas, fare and accommodation.' A mere fifteen hundred. The accommodation was, of course, distressingly modest.
"Ah yes, here we are, 'Struggling on in the face of draining scepticism from client, drinks--three hundred and twenty-seven pounds fifty.'
"Would that I did not have to make such charges, my dear Mrs Sauskind, would that the occasion did not continually arise. Not believing in my methods only makes my job more difficult, Mrs Sauskind, and hence, regrettably, more expensive."
Upstairs, the sounds of argument were becoming more heated by the moment. The French voice seemed to be verging on hysteria.
"I do appreciate, Mrs Sauskind," continued Dirk, "that the cost of the investigation has strayed somewhat from the original estimate, but I am sure that you will in your turn appreciate that a job which takes seven years to do must clearly be more difficult than one that can be pulled off in an afternoon and must therefore be charged at a higher rate. I have continually to revise my estimate of how difficult the task is in the light of how difficult it has so far proved to be."
The babble from the phone became more frantic.
"My dear Mrs Sauskind--or may I call you Joyce? Very well then. My dear Mrs Sauskind, let me say this. Do not worry yourself about this bill, do not let it alarm or discomfit you. Do not, I beg you, let it become a source of anxiety to you. Just grit your teeth and pay it."
He pulled his feet down off the table and leaned forward over the desk, inching the telephone receiver inexorably back towards its cradle.
"As always, the very greatest pleasure to speak with you, Mrs Sauskind. For now, goodbye."
He at last put down the receiver, picked it up again, and dropped it for the moment into the waste basket.
"My dear Richard MacDuff," he said, producing a large flat box from under his desk and pushing it across the table at him, "your pizza."
Richard started back in astonishment.
"Er, no thanks," he said, "I had breakfast. Please. You h
ave it."
Dirk shrugged. "I told them you'd pop in and settle up over the weekend," he said. "Welcome, by the way, to my offices."
He waved a vague hand around the tatty surroundings.
"The light works," he said, indicating the window, "the gravity works," he said, dropping a pencil on the floor. "Anything else we have to take our chances with."
Richard cleared his throat. "What," he said, "is this?"
"What is what?"
"This," exclaimed Richard, "all this. You appear to have a Holistic Detective Agency and I don't even know what one is."
"I provide a service that is unique in this world," said Dirk. "The term 'holistic' refers to my conviction that what we are concerned with here is the fundamental interconnectedness of all..."
"Yes, I got that bit earlier," said Richard. "I have to say that it sounded a bit like an excuse for exploiting gullible old ladies."
"Exploiting?" asked Dirk. "Well, I suppose it would be if anybody ever paid me, but I do assure you, my dear Richard, that there never seems to be the remotest danger of that. I live in what are known as hopes. I hope for fascinating and remunerative cases, my secretary hopes that I will pay her, her landlord hopes that she will produce some rent, the Electricity Board hopes that he will settle their bill, and so on. I find it a wonderfully optimistic way of life.
"Meanwhile I give a lot of charming and silly old ladies something to be happily cross about and virtually guarantee the freedom of their cats. Is there, you ask--and I put the question for you because I know you know I hate to be interrupted--is there a single case that exercises the tiniest part of my intellect, which, as you hardly need me to tell you, is prodigious? No. But do I despair? Am I downcast? Yes. Until," he added, "today."
"Oh, well, I'm glad of that," said Richard, "but what was all that rubbish about cats and quantum mechanics?"
With a sigh Dirk flipped up the lid of the pizza with a single flick of practised fingers. He surveyed the cold round thing with a kind of sadness and then tore off a hunk of it. Pieces of pepperoni and anchovy scattered over his desk.
"I am sure, Richard," he said, "that you are familiar with the notion of Schrodinger's Cat," and he stuffed the larger part of the hunk into his mouth.
