"Asprin, Robert - Myth 07 - M.Y.T.H. Inc. Link (c)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

She appeared almost at once, ignoring the Deveel's leer as she moved to my desk.

"Yes, sir?"

"Bunny, you forgot to brief me on this client. Who is he?"

She arched one eyebrow and shot a sideways glance at the Deveel. We rarely did our briefings in front of clients. Our eyes met again and I gave her a small nod to confirm my request.

"His name is Bane," she said with a shrug. "He's known to run a small shop here at the Bazaar selling small novelty magic items. His annual take from that operation is in the low six figures."

"Hey! That's pretty good," the Deveel grinned.

Bunny continued as if she hadn't heard.

"He also has secret ownership of three other businesses, and partial ownership of a dozen more. Most notable is a magic factory which supplies shops in this and other dimensions. It's located in a sub-dimension accessible through the office of his shop, and employs several hundred workers. The estimated take from that factory alone is in the mid seven figure range annually." The Deveel had stopped leering.

"How did you know all that?" he demanded. "That's supposed to be secret!"

"He also fancies himself to be a lady-killer, but there is little evidence to support his claim. The female companions he is seen in public with are paid for their company, and none have lasted more than a week. It seems they feel the money is insufficient for enduring his revolting personality. Foodwise, he has a weakness for broccoli."

I turned a neutral smile on the deflated Deveel.

"... And that, sir, is the talent that earns Bunny her job. Did you enjoy your sample?"

"She's wrong about the broccoli," Bane said weakly.

"I hate broccoli."

I raised an eyebrow at Bunny, who winked back at me. "Noted," she said. "Will there be anything else,

Boss?"

"Stick around. Bunny. I'll probably need your help quoting Mr. Bane a price for our services . . . that is, if he ever gets around to telling us what his problem is."

That brought the Deveel out of his shocked trance. "I'll tell you what the problem is! Miss Bunny here was dead right when she said my magic factory is my prize holding. The trouble is that someone's robbing me blind! I'm losing a fortune to pilferage!"

"What percentage loss?" Bunny said, suddenly attentive.

"Pushing fourteen percent... up from six last year."

"Are we talking retail or cost value?"

"Cost."

"What's your actual volume loss?"

"Less than eight percent. They know exactly what items to go after . . . small, but expensive."

I sat back and tried to look wise. They had lost me completely about two laps into the conversation, but Bunny seemed to know what she was doing, so I gave her her head.