The Dogtown Tourist Agency (16 page)

“You must interrupt him because I’m now on my way to the Triskelion, with Gidion Dirby and the Ubaikh. We will arrive in five minutes, and Sir Estevan is anxious to see us.” Hetzel flicked off the screen and blew out his breath. “I’ve never seen such obduracy! Is she a machine? Does Sir Estevan beat her when she makes a mistake? Is she determined to insulate Sir Estevan from the realities of life? Is she simply stupid?”

“I’ve seen that girl before,” said Gidion Dirby in a thick voice. “Sometimes, when I was a captive, I’d wake up to find a girl crawling around the room on her hands and knees. This was the girl.”

Hetzel made a sound of annoyance. “We want fewer complications, not more.”

“It’s not necessarily a complication.”

“Perhaps not. After all, Sir Estevan was filmed in the corridor of his private villa, no doubt by Byrrhis…Well, let’s get on with our principal business.”

Dirby rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’d better wait here until matters are settled. I don’t care to risk Captain Baw.”

“If you’re innocent, you don’t need to worry.”

“Oh, I’m innocent, no fear of that.”

“Then you must come. I want to set up conditions exactly as they were—”

“A re-enactment.”

“A re-enactment, precisely.”

Dirby shrugged. “Just as you say. If Captain Baw claps me into the Exhibitory, you’ve got to get me out.” He walked toward the door. Hetzel stepped forward, grappled Dirby with one arm, felt in Dirby’s pouch with the other, and withdrew a gun. Dirby wrenched himself free, face contorted. He started to fling himself upon Hetzel; then, seeing Hetzel’s face—the arrogant, down-drooping mouth, the cold gray gaze—and noting the gun held negligently ready, he backed away.

Hetzel said politely, “I merely want to make sure that I, not you, control the situation. Come along, then.”

The three walked across the vast gray-silver plaza. The sun hung halfway up the green sky; the day seemed clearer than usual, and the eccentric architecture of the Triskelion was manifest.

Vvs. Felius and Vv. Kylo stood on duty behind the Gaean desk. Vvs. Felius, observing Gidion Dirby and the Ubaikh, leaned back with bulging eyes and a trembling jaw. Hetzel went directly to Sir Estevan’s office. Vvs. Felius called out indignantly, but Hetzel paid no attention.

Sir Estevan himself stood in the outer office, standing by Zaressa’s desk with his hand on her shoulder. Zaressa’s face was pink and her eyes were wet. Sir Estevan appeared to be consoling her.
He looked at Hetzel with unsympathetic eyes. “I can’t quite condone your hectoring of my secretary.”

“She has exaggerated my offense,” said Hetzel. “I did no more than insist upon seeing you. I have here the Ubaikh who witnessed the assassinations, and here is Gidion Dirby, who was also present. Hopefully, we will be able to discover the truth of the situation.”

Sir Estevan seemed uninterested in Hetzel’s remarks. “Quite frankly, I’m bored with the whole matter. So far as I’m concerned, the matter can rest in abeyance.”

Gidion Dirby uttered a caw of savage laughter. “I don’t want to let the matter rest! You accused me and sent your pet porpoise out to arrest me; let’s hear what the witness has to say.”

Sir Estevan gazed at Dirby without expression, then turned to Hetzel. “I have just received news that Vv. Byrrhis has been murdered. What do you know of this?”

“I am an effectuator,” said Hetzel. “If you want me to perform an investigation, I may or may not be able to help you, depending upon the fee. Vv. Dirby hired me to bring the facts of the Triskelion assassinations to light, and this is my single concern. I suggest that you summon Captain Baw. We can then step into the chamber and allow the Ubaikh to indicate the source of the shots.”

Sir Estevan gave a stony shrug. “I don’t care to participate in any such demonstration. The Liss and the Olefract are the aggrieved parties. Perform your demonstrations before them.”

“In that case,” cried Dirby, “why did you send Baw to arrest me?”

“Captain Baw undertook the arrest on his own initiative.”

“As I see the situation,” said Hetzel, “the Liss and the Olefract Triarchs were killed because they were about to hear a complaint against Istagam, which they would have been only too glad to act upon. Given the circumstances of Gidion Dirby’s detention and your unwillingness to investigate this matter, I believe that Gidion Dirby has grounds for legal action. Unless you cooperate now, it will appear that you are attempting to cover up for Istagam, presumably because you are profiting from the operation.”

“Totally false,” said Sir Estevan. “As I may have remarked to you, Istagam is an altruistic enterprise organized by Vv. Byrrhis. The Gomaz work productively instead of killing each other; they learn the rudiments of civilized knowledge in return. Istagam profits have built the magnificent tourist-agency inns. Neither I nor Vv. Byrrhis have cause for shame.”

Dirby said brassily, “Don’t be too sure of that. Who turned the chamber pot over my head? Do you think I’ve forgotten? Not much! Give me the opportunity, and I’ll do the same for you.”

Sir Estevan gave a snort of chilly humor. “I suggest that you keep a civil tongue in your head. You’re now in the jurisdiction of the Triarchy; I can easily turn you over to the Liss and the Olefract, and you can vent your impudence upon them.”

“You would certainly be exceeding your authority,” said Hetzel. “Either you, as the Gaean Triarch, are aggrieved, or you are not aggrieved. You can’t have it both ways. If you are not aggrieved, you have no right to inconvenience Vv. Dirby.”

“If nothing else,” said Sir Estevan, “the Gaeans have suffered embarrassment and ruinous loss of face. At the minimum, I am justified in believing that Dirby attempted murder upon me.”

“This is sheer speculation.”

“Captain Baw was witness to the circumstance.”

“Suppose, for the sake of argument, that Captain Baw shot the Triarchs himself. He would then be certain to blame the crime upon Gidion Dirby; do you agree?”

“Ridiculous,” said Sir Estevan. “Why should Baw kill the Triarchs?”

“The same question applies to Dirby. Why should he kill the Triarchs?”

“I couldn’t say. Perhaps he is deranged.”

“So you want to arrest a crazy man and turn him over to the Liss and the Olefract?”

Sir Estevan showed signs of boredom. “Criminality is a kind of insanity; criminals are punished under Gaean law; hence, under Gaean law, insane persons suffer punishment. How crazy is Dirby? I have no idea. He looks sane enough now.”

“So does Captain Baw. So do you. No doubt the Ubaikh appears sane.”

“Exactly what are you suggesting?” demanded Sir Estevan.

“I suggest that you look before you leap. Have you spoken to Vv. Dirby; have you heard his account?”

“No; it is really irrelevant. The facts are as they are.”

“Vv. Dirby,” said Hetzel, “be good enough to repeat to Sir Estevan what you told me.”

Dirby gave his head a mulish shake. “Let him put me under arrest; I’ll tell my tale in court, and let him squirm.”

“If you don’t tell him,” said Hetzel, “I will.”

“Do as you like; it’s the same to me.”

Hetzel said, “As accurately as I can recall, these are the circumstances.” He presented a brief outline of Dirby’s experiences. “It is clear that Vv. Dirby is a victim rather than a criminal. The question becomes: who in actual fact is the assassin? We can resolve the mystery in ten minutes, and it seems important to do so.”

“Important to whom?” inquired Sir Estevan in a cool voice. “As I say, the grievance is not mine.”

“The grievance is mine!” snarled Dirby. “For all I know, you’re the murderer yourself. I’ll get the Gaean marshal in and turn all the facts over to him!”

Sir Estevan threw up his arms in a fatalistic gesture. “Very well, let’s make an end to it.” He stepped into the lobby and signaled Captain Baw, who stood in glowering colloquy with Vvs. Felius. All marched into the Chamber of Triarchs. Sir Estevan went to the chair of the Gaean Triarch. “Captain Baw, please dispose these people as before.”

“Very well. The Ubaikh stood here. Over here…come stand here, there’s a good lad! I’d just come in through the side door with Dirby. He was about here, and I’d started across the room. I was about here when I heard the sound of shots.” He addressed Sir Estevan. “Would this accord with your recollection, sir?”

“Yes.” Sir Estevan seemed limp and dispirited. “Close enough.”

“Close enough,” said Dirby.

Hetzel spoke to the Ubaikh through the translator. “This is approximately the state of affairs when the shots were fired. Do you agree?”

The printout read: “I agree.”

“Very well, then—who fired the shots?”

Hetzel read the printout. “He says he doesn’t know.”

“‘He doesn’t know’! I thought you said that he would testify!”

Hetzel spoke to the Ubaikh. “Explain your remark, if you will. You heard the shots; you saw where they came from—but you can’t specify the individual who fired them?”

“The shots came from here.” The Ubaikh indicated the door leading into Sir Estevan’s private office. “The door opened; the shots were fired; the door was shut. I have told you what I know, and I will now return to the Ubaikh domain.” He stalked from the chamber.

Dirby uttered a shout of vindictive glee. He took a step toward Captain Baw, but Hetzel interposed himself. “You are now exculpated,” said Hetzel. “You are free to come and go. Why not return to Thrope and rest for a period? You have had a harrowing experience.”

Dirby grinned. “Quite correct, and no doubt I’ll do just that.” He darted a final glance toward Sir Estevan, then turned on his heel and left the chamber.

“And now—from sheer curiosity—who was in your office?”

“When I left, the office was empty.”

“In that case, Zaressa Lurling would seem to be the guilty individual.”

“Impossible! Can you imagine her aiming and firing a gun?”

Hetzel shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. You had no inkling of this?”

Sir Estevan made no response. He looked toward his office. “I suppose now we must pursue the matter to its bitter limit.” He went to the door, thrust it aside. Zaressa Lurling was nowhere to be seen. Vvs. Felius sat at the reception desk. “Zaressa became ill,” said Vvs. Felius. “She asked me to take her place and went home.”

Sir Estevan stood stiff and rigid. Hetzel asked, “Vvs. Felius, do you recall the events just prior to the assassination?”

“I certainly do.”

“Did Vv. Byrrhis, or anyone else, go into Sir Estevan’s office?”

“Absolutely not. No one came but yourself and that Dirby fellow.”

“Thank you. I don’t think you need remain any longer.”

Vvs. Felius gave Hetzel a glare and looked at Sir Estevan. “Do you need me, Sir Estevan?”

“No, thank you, Vvs. Felius. You may go.”

Vvs. Felius haughtily left the room. Sir Estevan sat heavily down in a chair.

“So, then…Zaressa either fired the shots, or else she admitted the assassin through your private entrance. As to her motives we can only speculate. In any event, she shares the guilt of the murderer, either Wuldfache or Byrrhis. His identity is irrelevant; both are dead. I suspect Wuldfache, and I assume that Zaressa was enamored of him.”

“Yes,” groaned Sir Estevan. “No doubt…I admit that I suspected her guilt…and I did not care to learn the truth.”

“You apparently take a more than casual interest in Zaressa Lurling.”

“This is nothing which concerns you.”

“As you say, the matter is irrelevant. Byrrhis was the architect of the affair. He understood the enormous profits latent in Istagam, even over a relatively short period. He also knew that opposition was sure to materialize from you, from the Liss and Olefract Triarchs, or from all three. He prepared to neutralize the opposition, and brought Dirby to Maz. In order for Dirby to appear a convincing assassin, he must be supplied with motivation, hence his processing, which Byrrhis no doubt found amusing. He was aided by Casimir Wuldfache, whose adventures are a saga in themselves.

“At the old Kanitze castle, Dirby was conditioned, and his mind loaded with a whole catalog of insane events. But Dirby himself was
not
insane and could emphatically affirm the reality of these events. The more he asserted, the more insane he would seem; any alienist would declare him hyperparanoid. Even better, his ravings would be corroborated by mind search, which, after all, gauges only subjective authenticity.

“So, then: Byrrhis has contrived a subtle, complex but flexible plan. If and when complaints are made in regard to Istagam, the Liss and Olefract Triarchs will be killed, and Istagam is given
another year, perhaps longer; and Sir Estevan becomes a person who by a hair’s breadth has escaped assassination at the hands of a paranoid wanderer.

“But what of Sir Estevan? He must also be induced to ignore the activities of Istagam. Sir Estevan is a proud and obstinate man. How can he be so persuaded? He must be subjected to blackmail. Conditions have now been created whereby Sir Estevan can convincingly appear to be nefarious, base, and foolish. If he jibs or balks, Byrrhis, safely in Dogtown or off-planet, makes public the circumstances surrounding the assassinations and claims Sir Estevan to be his collaborator. Dirby’s hallucinations are certified as reality.
You
, Sir Estevan, have performed these absurd tricks,
you
have turned the chamber pot over Dirby’s head, and
you
become a figure of contempt and ridicule across the Gaean Reach; your dignity and reputation are lost forever. Hence, you are in no position to thwart Vv. Byrrhis’ schemes.”

For a moment Sir Estevan’s face remained still—a mask, classically handsome, the golden hair curling down upon his ears, the chin strong and set. What transpired behind the mask, Hetzel could only guess. Sir Estevan might be possessed of a honed and intricate intelligence, or he might be blank and dull.

“Remarkable,” said Sir Estevan coldly. “But I am not so concerned with public ‘contempt and ridicule’ as you suppose. Secondly, the Kzyk have lost their zest for knowledge. They are not interested in orthography and double-entry bookkeeping; they want guns and pulsors and machinery to level their enemies’ castles, which Byrrhis, for all his cleverness, dared not supply.”