“No. Still, eat the soup.”
After a few moments Wayness said: “I must learn to be absolutely callous. I cannot let myself be weak.”
'I don’t think you are weak. Still, are there no others to help you?'
“Yes, but they are far away. Glawen Clattuc will be here sometime soon — but I can’t wait.”
'You carry no weapons?'
“I don’t own any.”
''Wait here.” Alvina left the restaurant, returning a few minutes later with a pair of small parcels. “These articles will give you comfort, at the very least.' She explained their use.
'I thank you,” said Wayness. 'May I pay for them?'
'No. But if you use either upon whoever murdered Xantief, please let me know.'
'I promise that I will.” Wayness tucked the articles into pockets of the pea jacket.
“Now, to business.' Alvina brought out a slip of paper. “I cannot direct you to Moncurio himself, since he is gone from Earth. Where, I have no idea, but he left me an address in case money came in from some old accounts which had never been settled.”
Wayness asked doubtfully: 'Is this address still useful?'
“It was as of last year. I sent money to the address, and finality got back a receipt.'
“From Moncurio?”
Alvina grimaced and shook her head. 'I sent the money in care of Irena Portils, who is apparently Moncurio’s spouse — formally or informally, I have no idea. She is a difficult and suspicious woman. Do not expect her to oblige you, gladly or otherwise, with Moncurio's current address. She would not even give me a proper receipt for the money; she said that there must be no linkage between her name and his. I told her that this was preposterous, since Moncurio had already made the linkage, and that if she did not sign the receipt using Moncurio's name and her own as an endorsement, I would void the draught and send her no more money. Ha! Her avarice is even stronger than her nervousness, and she sent the proper receipt, with just enough icy sarcasm to irritate me.”
“Perhaps she is nicer when she is not worried, said Wayness without conviction.
“Anything is possible. Still I can't imagine how you will deal with her, much less extract information.”
“I must give the matter some thought. Perhaps I will try a subtle indirect approach.”
“I wish you luck. Here is the address.' She gave over the paper. Wayness read:
Sra. Irena Portils
Casa Lucasta
CaIIe Maduro 31
Pombareales, Patagonia
Wayness returned to the Hotel Sirenuse the way she had come: down the wharf to the ladder, down to the shingle and beside the sea wall to the stone steps, then up and through the timber door into the nether regions of the hotel. Here she lost her way and for a time groped back and forth along damp dark passages smelling of must, old wine, onions and fish. Finally, behind a door she had forgotten, she found the service stairs, and so climbed thankfully to the second floor, where she hurried back to her room. She threw off her disguise, bathed and dressed in her ordinary clothes. Then she sat looking out across the sea, pondering the new realities of her life.
Outrage and anger served no purpose; they were only a frustration. Fear was equally profitless, though fear was hard to control.
Wayness became restless. There was too much to think about, and too many complexities. While she thought, she was static and vulnerable; she could protect herself only by activity.
Wayness went to the telephone and called Fair Winds. Agnes appeared, then went to summon Pirie Tamm from the garden. 'Ah Wayness!' He spoke guardedly. 'I was on my way out; I have an errand at the bank in Tierens. Do you wish to call back in half an hour or so?”
'If you can spare me a minute, I'll talk to you now.' Wayness tried to sound easy and casual, but her voice seemed strained, even to her own ears.
“I cart spare a minute or two. What is your news?”
“It is both good and bad. I spoke with a certain Alcide Xantief yesterday. He knew nothing himself but in passing he mentioned a repository in Bangalore. I telephoned there this morning and they have the documents we are seeking, and they would seem to be quite accessible.”
“Amazing!” said Pirie Tamm, blinking in perplexity.”
'It is that and more, when I think of what I have gone through to get this information. I have written to you, to my father and to Glawen, so that the information will not be lost in case something happens to me.”
“Why should anything happen to you?”
'Last night I had a rather frightening experience. It might have been mistaken identity, or romance Adriatic style: I can't be sure. But in any case I escaped.”
Pirie Tamm gave an exclamation of outrage. “That is damnable! I like this expedition of yours less and less! It's not right that you should be tackling a man's job!'
“Right or wrong, the job must be done,' said Wayness.
“And there is no one to do it but me.”
'Yes, Yes,” grumbled Pirie Tamm. “We've been over these arguments before.”
“Be sure that I am taking all precautions, Uncle Pirie, and now I will let you go on your errand. If you are indeed stopping by the bank, please ask after a remittance I am expecting from home.”
“I’ll do that, certainly. But what now for you?”
“I'm off for Bangalore, by the best connection, or even the worst, so long as I get there fast.”
'And when will I hear from you next?'
'Soon; from Bangalore, most likely.'
“Goodbye then, and take care of yourself.''
“Goodbye, Uncle Pirie.'
Half an hour later Wayness called the bank in Tierens from the public telephone in the hotel lobby. Pirie Tamm's face again appeared on the screen. “Now then! Perhaps we can talk more freely.'
“I hope so, since I distrust even the telephone in my room.” I am certain that I have been followed to Trieste.' Wayness decided not to mention the murder of Xantief.
'I gather then, that Bangalore will not be your next destination?”
'You gather correctly, Uncle Pirie. If I can send someone off on a wild goose chase, so much the better.”
“So what have you achieved in Trieste?”
'I have descended another step on the ladder, and you will be surprised to learn whom I found there.'
'Oh? Who might this be?'
“It is your tomb-robbing friend Adrian Moncurio.”
“Ha!” said Pirie Tamm after a moment’s reflection. “I am surprised, to be sure, though maybe not as much as I might be!”
'Do you have any inkling as to his present address?'
'None whatever.”
“What of mutual friends?'
'We have none. Since I have not heard from him, I suspect that he is either off-world or dead.'
'In that case I must continue my inquiries. They may possibly take me off-world.'
“Off-world where?'
'I don’t know yet.”
“'Then where are you going from Trieste?'
'I am afraid to tell you, for fear the information will somehow leak out. Even now I am using the hotel's public telephone, on the chance that the telephone in my room has been tapped.”
'You are quite right! Trust nothing and no one!'
Wayness sighed, thinking of Xantief, his clarity and honor. 'Another matter, Uncle Pirie. I did not send you down to the bank for nothing. I am carrying about three hundred sols, but if I must go off-world, it won’t be enough.
