work in a good cause, if for no other reason than the happiness of a rather nice person known as Wayness Tamm. She agreed to do what she could for you, if you arrived tomorrow about noon at her shop.'
“That is good news, Mr. Xantief!”
'Before you get your hopes up, she mentioned that she did not know Moncurio’s present whereabouts, but only the address he had supplied to her some years ago.'
'Anything is better than nothing.'
'Exactly. I will bid you goodnight once again. These are my working hours, as you know; in fact, I hear a customer waiting for me now.'
In the morning Wayness awoke to find the sun shining brightly down upon the Adriatic. She was served breakfast in her room by one of the blue unformed call-boys: an undersized youth named Felix. After a covert appraisal, Wayness decided that Felix might suit her purposes very well. He was deft and agile, with lank black hat and sharp black eyes in a thin knowledgeable face. He readily agreed to perform whatever services Wayness might require, and she gave him a sol to cement the arrangement.
'First and foremost,” she told him, “all our dealings must be kept confidential. No one must know. This is very important!”
“Have no fear!' declared Felix. “This is the way I normally do business! I am known to be discretion personified'
“Good! This is what I want you to do first.” She sent Felix out to the shops along the wharf. He returned presently with an old pea jacket, a gray work shirt, dungarees, rubber-soled sandals and a fisherman's cap. Wayness donned her new garments and surveyed herself in the mirror. She made a not-too-convincing old salt, but at least she was unrecognizable, especially after she darkened her face with skin tone.
Felix echoed her opinions. “I don’t know exactly what I’d make of you, but for sure you don’t look like what you were before.”
At half an hour before noon, Felix led her down the service stairs into the basement of the hotel, then along a dank passage to a flight of stone steps closed off by a heavy timber door. Felix opened the door and they descended still further, finally to jump down upon the shingle of the beach at the far side of the sea wall, under the wharf, with the waters of the Adriatic only fifteen feet to the side.
The two proceeded a hundred yards along the shingle at the base of the sea wall and at last came to a ladder by which they climbed to the face of the wharf. Felix was now ready to turn back, but Wayness protested. “Not yet! I feel safer with you beside me.'
“That is an illusion,” said Felix. He looked over his shoulder. 'No one has followed; if someone did so, and started a row I should probably run away, for I am a coward.'
'Come along anyway,' said Wayness. “I do not expect you to lay down your life for what I intend to pay you. My thinking is this: if we are attacked, and if we both run, my chances for survival are doubled over what they would be if I were alone.”
“Hmf!” said Felix. 'You are even more cold-blooded than I. If I come, I will expect an extra sol, for the danger involved.'
'Very well.'
Where Via Malthus opened upon the wharf, a small restaurant served dock workers, fishermen, and whoever else felt the need for fish stew or mussels, or fried fish. Again Felix was ready to turn back but again Wayness would not hear of it. She gave him careful instructions. 'You must go up Via Malthus to a shop with some green buckles in the window.'
“I know the shop. It is run by a crazy woman named Alvina.'
“Go into the shop and tell Alvina that Wayness Tamm is waiting here, at this restaurant. Make sure no one overhears. If she cannot leave her shop, bring a message.'
“First, my pay.'
Wayness shook her head. “I was not born yesterday. You will be paid when you return with Alvina.'
Felix set off. Ten minutes passed. Alvina entered the restaurant, followed by Felix. Wayness had seated herself in a corner, and Alvina looked here and there in puzzlement. Felix led her to the corner table. Wayness now paid Felix three sols. “Do not mention this excursion to anyone,' she told him. “Also, leave the door open at the bottom of the steps, so that I can return the way we came.”
Felix departed, not displeased with himself. Alvina gave Wayness a cool inspection. “You are taking careful precautions, although you neglected a black beard.”
'I never thought of that.”
'No matter. I would never have recognized you as you are now.'
'I hope not last night, I was attacked on my way home from Xantief’s shop. I barely escaped.”
Alvina raised her eyebrows. “That is disturbing!'
Wayness wondered if Alvina were taking her seriously. Perhaps she thought the disguise over-dramatic. A waiter in a stained white apron appeared. Alvina ordered a bowl of red fish soup and Wayness did the same. Alvina asked: “I wonder if you would tell me the background of your search?”
“Certainly. A thousand years ago the Naturalist Society discovered the world Cadwal, and considered it so beautiful, with so many entrancing aspects that they decided to make it into a perpetual Conservancy, safe from human exploitation. At the moment the Conservancy is in serious danger: all because a former Secretary sold off Society documents to antique dealers, including the Grant-in-Perpetuity to Cadwal and the original Cadwal Charter. These documents disappeared — where, no one knows. But if they are not found, the Society may lose title to Cadwal.”
“And how do you enter the picture?”
“My father is Conservator of Cadwal, and lives at Araminta Station. My uncle, Pirie, is Secretary of the Society here on Earth, but he is an invalid, and there is no one to do what needs to be done but me. Other folk are also looking for the Grant of Ownership; some of them are wicked, some are simply foolish, but they want to break the Conservancy, and so they are my enemies. I think that some of them tracked me to Trieste despite my best efforts. I fear for my life, I fear for Cadwal, which is vulnerable. If I don’t find the documents, the Conservancy cannot survive. I am getting closer and closer. My enemies know this and they will kill me with no compunction whatever, and I am not ready to die just yet.'
“I should think not. Alvina drummed her fingers on the table. “You have not heard the news, then?'
Wayness looked up in apprehension. “What news?'
'Last night Xantief was murdered. This morning he was found in the canal.”
Time stood still. Everything became blurred except for Alvina's gray-green eyes. Wayness finally managed to Stammer. “This is terrible. I had no idea — it must be my fault! I led them to Xantief.'
Alvina nodded. 'It might have happened that way. Or maybe not; who knows? It makes no great difference, one way or the other.”
After a pause Wayness said: 'You are right. It makes no difference.' She wiped the tears from her face. The waiter brought bowls of red soup. Wayness looked numbly at the bowl.
“Eat,' said Alvina. 'We have to pay for it, regardless.”
Wayness pushed the bowl away. 'What happened?'
“I don’t like to tell you. It was not nice. Someone wanted information from Xantief. He could give them none because he had none, except what he told you. No doubt he explained this immediately, but they persisted and killed him, and dropped him into the canal. Alvina busied herself with the soup, then said: “It is clear, however, that he did not mention me.”
“How so?”
“I came to my shop early today, and no one was waiting for me. Eat your soup. It is pointless to suffer on an empty stomach.'
Wayness heaved a deep sigh. She pulled the bowl of soup toward herself and began to eat. Alvina looked on with a grim smile. 'Whenever tragedy has dealt me its worst blows, then I go forth and rejoice. I drink fine wine, and dine on delicacies I can’t afford, and perhaps indulge myself in some sort of worthless new gewgaw.'
Wayness laughed weakly. “Does the program work?”
