“As one who writes theses?”

He nodded.

“What’s your field?” I asked.

“History.”

“You’ve a topic already assigned, of course.”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

He swallowed. “Sort of offbeat, I’m afraid.”

“Good.”

“Excuse me?”

“Offbeat topics are the best. What’s yours?”

“The Turkish persecutions of Armenians during the late nineteenth century and immediately before and after the First World War.” He grinned. “Don’t ask me how I got saddled with that one. I can’t figure it out, myself. Do you know anything about the subject, Mr. Tanner?”

“Yes.”

“You do?” He was incredulous. “Honestly?”

“I know a great deal about it,” I said.

“Then can you…uh…write the thesis?”

“Probably. Have you done anything on it to date?”

“I have notes here-”

“Notes that you’ve shown an instructor or just your own work?”

“No one’s seen anything yet. I’ve had some oral conferences with my instructor but nothing very important.”

I waved his briefcase aside. “Then I’d rather not see your notes,” I told him. “I find it easier to start fresh if you don’t mind.”

“You’ll do it?”

“For seven hundred fifty dollars.”

His face clouded. “That seems high. I don’t-”

“A master’s degree is worth an extra fifteen hundred to industry the first year. That’s minimal. I’m charging you half your first year’s differential. If you try to haggle, the price goes up, not down.”

“It’s a deal.”

“This is for Columbia, you said?”

“Yes.”

“And your grades have been-”

“B average.”

“All right. About a hundred-page thesis? And you want it the middle of next month?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have it. Call me in three weeks, and I’ll let you know how it’s coming along.”

“Three weeks.”

“Don’t call before then. And I’ll want half the money now, if it’s all the same to you.”