Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (10 page)

‘Richard,’ he said, ‘I, er, read your piece in... in Fathom.  On Music and, er...’

‘Fractal Landscapes,’ said Richard shortly.  He didn’t want to talk to Michael, and he certainly didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation about Michael’s wretched magazine.  Or rather, the magazine that used to be Michael’s.

That was the precise aspect of the conversation that Richard didn’t want to get drawn into.

‘Er, yes.  Very interesting, of course,’ said Michael in his silky, over-rounded voice.  ‘Mountain shapes and tree shapes and all sorts of things.  Recycled algae.’

‘Recursive algorithms.’

‘Yes, of course.  Very interesting.  But so wrong, so terribly wrong.  For the magazine, I mean.  It is, after all, an arts review.  I would never have allowed such a thing, of course.  Ross has utterly ruined it.  Utterly.  He’ll have to go.  Have to.  He has no sensibilities and he’s a thief.’

‘He’s not a thief, Wednesday, that’s absolutely absurd,’ snapped Richard, instantly getting drawn into it in spite of his resolution not to.  ‘He had nothing to do with your getting the push whatsoever.  That was your own silly fault, and you...’

There was a sharp intake of breath.

‘Richard,’ said Michael in his softest, quietest voice -- arguing with him was like getting tangled in parachute silk -- ‘I think you do not understand how important...’

‘Michael,’ said Susan gently but firmly, holding open the door.  Michael Wenton-Weakes nodded faintly and seemed to deflate.

‘Your book,’ Susan added, holding out to him a small and elderly volume on the ecclesiastical architecture of Kent.  He took it, murmured some slight thanks, looked about him for a moment as if he’d suddenly realised something rather odd, then gathered himself together, nodded farewell and left.

Richard didn’t appreciate quite how tense he had become till Michael left and he was sud