'You appear to be a spectre,' he said.

     Our  nature  is not  a  matter  for discussion, arrived in his head. We offer you a commission.

     'You wish someone inhumed?' said Downey.

     Brought to an end.

     Downey considered this.  It was  not as  unusual  as it appeared. There were precedents. Anyone could buy the services of the Guild. Several zombies had,  in the past, employed the Guild to settle scores with their murderers. In fact the Guild, he liked to  think  practised the ultimate democracy. You didn't need intelligence, social position,  beauty or charm to  hire it. You just needed money which, unlike the other stuff, was available  to everyone. Except for the poor, of course, but there was no helping some people.

     'Brought to an end...' That was an odd way of putting it.

     'We can-' he began.

     The payment will reflect the difficulty of the task.

     'Our scale of fees-'

     The payment will be three million dollars.

     Downey sat back. That was  four times higher than any fee yet earned by any member  of the Guild, and that had been a special family rate, including overnight guests.

     'No questions asked, I assume?' he said, buying time.

     No questions answered.

     'But  does the  suggested fee  represent the difficulty  involved?  The client is heavily guarded?'

     Not  guarded at all. But almost  certainly impossible  to  delete  with conventional weapons.

     Downey nodded.  This  was not  necessarily  a big problem, he  said  to himself. The  Guild had amassed quite a  few unconventional weapons over the years. Delete? An unusual way of putting it ...

     'We like to know for whom we are working, he said.

     We are sure you do.

     'I  mean that we  need to know your  name.  Or names. In  strict client confidentiality, of course. We have to write something down in our files.'