“Big difference,” the Melinda woman continued. “Like the difference between something that’s supposedly inflatable and something that’s actually inflated. Between something that’s supposedly unbreakable and something that will actually survive a good fling at the wall.”

“What?” said Dirk.

“I mean that however respectable your business may be, if it was actually respected you’d probably be able to afford a carpet, some paint on the walls, and maybe even another chair in here for a person to sit on.”

Dirk had no idea what had happened to the other chair in his office, but he certainly wasn’t going to admit it.

“You don’t need a chair,” he said. “I’m afraid you are here under a misapprehension. We have nothing to discuss. Good day to you, dear lady, I am not going to look for your lost cat.”

“I didn’t say it was a lost cat.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Dirk. “You distinctly . . .”

“I said it was a sort of lost cat. It’s half lost.”

Dirk looked at her expressionlessly. Apart from being extremely good-looking in a blondish, willowyish kind of way, she was dressed well in an “I don’t care what I wear, just any old thing that’s lying around” kind of way that relies on being extremely careful about what you leave lying around. She was obviously pretty bright, probably had a pretty good job, like running some sort of major textile or telecommunications company despite being clearly only thirty-two. In other words, she was exactly the sort of person who didn’t mislay cats, and certainly didn’t go running off to poky little private detective agencies if she did. He felt ill at ease.

“Talk sense, please,” he said sharply. “My time is valuable.”

“Oh yes? How valuable?”

She looked scornfully around his office. He had to admit to himself that it was grim, but he was damned if he was just going to sit there and take it. Just because he needed the work, needed the money, had nothing better to do with his time, there was no reason for anybody to think that he was at the beck and call of every good-looking woman who walked into his office offering to pay for his services. He felt humiliated.

“I’m not talking about my scale of fees, though it is, I promise you, awesome. I was merely thinking of time passing. Time that won’t pass this way again.”

He leaned forward in a pointed manner.

“Time is a finite entity, you know. Only about four billion years to go till the sun explodes. I know it seems like a lot now, but it will soon go if we just squander it on frivolous nonsense and small talk.”

“Small talk! This is half of my cat we’re talking about!”

“Madam, I don’t know who this ‘we’ is that you are referring to, but . . .”