| On Highway South |

  Mulch was nervous. He didn't know why. After all, he was now a completely legitimate businessman, complete with limo and Armani suit. But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself.

  Mulch, obviously, was Edmund Manchester. Within the space of three days, he had visited a guy he knew who was good with false I.D.s, opened a bank account using money from the credit card of an American tourist whose wallet he had pawned, used another leaf of Master Fowl's book to invest in gold in the stock market, and visited a personal tailor. He was now a very legal, wealthy Mr. Manchester, the owner of the brand-new company Fairyware, a company that would specialize in… well; Mulch hadn't figured that one out yet. Perhaps Fairyware could do everything. Children's toys to clothing to futuristic technology. Mulch liked that idea. After all, more products brought in more money.

  So, now all he needed was the cooperation of one certain boy genius. Mulch was certain that with the Irish boy's help, the imaginary Fairyware would boom. Of course, Mulch would be perfectly willing to risk it all alone. But a genius was always nice to have as a business partner, and besides, Mulch felt he owed the teenager something. If it hadn't been for Artemis, Mulch would be sitting in jail right now, rubbing his sore behind.

  The kleptomaniac dwarf lovingly fingered the gold minidisk in his suit pocket. It would only be a little while until he could ask for anything in the world… and no one would have the power to say no. Mulch giggled. Especially Julius.

|Fowl Manor|

  The bell rang. Butler dove for the front door immediately. Artemis was upstairs in one of many conference rooms, and his anxiety was wearing off on the manservant. Be careful… set up the door scanner… don't forget to check for bombs. Butler snorted. Honestly. One could only be so careful, but Artemis seemed to have forgone the limit.

  He drew the heavy oaken door open. It went easily, almost floating on its oiled hinges. Artemis insisted on that. He insisted on a lot of things. Artemis was far from easygoing, Butler reflected. How the Fowl heir was going to get married and continue the Fowl line was beyond thinking about.

  The bodyguard blinked and focused his attention on the individual on the doorstep. His eyes followed down… down… down… until finally he made eye contact with the diminutive man in a tailored suit and an elegantly sarcastic expression.

  "Good afternoon," said the individual. He was hiding behind a pair of rather large but somehow chic sunglasses. "I am Mr. Edmund Manchester, here to see Master Artemis Fowl?"

  Butler wondered how that could be a question, but acknowledged the unusually small man politely and led him upstairs to where Artemis was waiting in the aforementioned conference room, his hands folded delicately on a glass-topped table.

  Artemis did not seem at all shocked at the diminutive businessman's size; in fact he was overly pleasant. Butler withdrew and shut the door. He would be monitoring the progress of the conference from the rather obviously-named monitor room.

  Mulch suppressed a grin and instead allowed a somber, melodramatic smile to steal across his makeup-toned features. He'd touched up himself a little bit in the limo, just to make himself look a little rosier. There was no need to imitate Julius, but even the dwarf admitted that prison pallor was starting to take on his features.

  "Mr. Manchester," said Artemis, flipping up his laptop's cover and pushing it slightly to the side so he could see his contact's face. "You were rather… discreet… about business over the telephone. If you would not mind explaining yourself a little more directly, by all means do so." In the monitor room, Butler rolled his eyes. It was perhaps a more sugary way of saying, "Get down to business or you're outta here."

  "Indeed," said Mulch, in tones that would have put Julius to shame. "What I wanted to discuss was the beginning of my new corporation, Fairyware. I planned to market it as a multi-purpose company. I have good holdings in the stock market. I've bought over a thousand shares of gold at a price of two pounds apiece. All I need, Fowl, is a business partner. Preferably someone with brains and not averse to illegal schemes."

   Butler, watching the screen, did a double take. In the conferencing room, Artemis's pale face remained calm, but his mind was churning. This man wanted a business partner? Why was that odd? Perhaps it was the usual lack of faith that men put into the boy genius. That could have been it; but another rather suspicious thing was nagging at Artemis. Why had he never heard of this Edmund Manchester before? It was possible that the man in question was just a budding businessman – here the prodigy smirked- but still.

  Artemis addressed Manchester with genuine sincerity. "I will consider your generous offer. If I could have a moment please." He turned to his laptop and immediately activated a search for Interpol files on one Manchester, Edmund. Within moments a file whirred up onscreen.

  Now it was Mulch's turn to smirk. No doubt the Irish teenager was searching for Interpol files. Thanks to the false papers guy who'd had a contact who'd had a contact and so on, the boy would be finding one.

  Manchester, Edmund, the screen read. Born to duchess and duke in a far duchy of England, Manchester is currently launching company dubbed Fairyware. 38, 2'11, Caucasian.

  Artemis nodded impassively, then turned to face the man. "Just what was it that you were planning to market?" he asked.