"Nonsense. Have you looked into the divorce laws on Maylor? You should. If a husband refuses to eat the food his wife prepares, that's grounds for divorce. Eleanor fixed the guy's breakfast yesterday morning, right after the marriage ceremony. She laced the food with that special sauce of mine. The guy got sick and had to be pumped out. For lunch she gave him more of the same, and his sensitive Maylorian stomach put him in the hospital overnight. This morning he refused to eat breakfast, and she called in a judge and got her divorce."
"Obviously some woman thought up that law."
"You may be right. A man can divorce his wife any time he likes, just by refusing to eat, but there's no divorce unless she makes the complaint herself and proves there's nothing wrong with the food by eating it herself. Fortunately Eleanor has developed a taste for my sauce. It solved the problem neatly."
"Very neatly," Dudley agreed. "Have you seen McGivern?"
"Saw him yesterday. He gave me my new assignment - resident manager on Nunquad. It's a pushover, and I leave tonight as planned. Now come to lunch."
They walked back to the apartment, Dudley maintaining a glum, meditative silence, and Bakr cheerfully commenting on Maylorian social customs and several times plucking Dudley bodily from the menacing traffic. Eleanor met them at the apartment door, kissed Dudley gushily, and escorted him to the luncheon table.
"Maylorian stew," she said brightly. "The recipe was the property of the deceased wife of my ex-husband."
"Too bad she didn't take it with her," Dudley muttered. He poked doubtfully with his spoon, took a small amount to sample - and doubled up in agony.
"You put that sauce in it!" he exclaimed, when he had rinsed out his mouth and wiped his eyes.
"Delicious, isn't it?" Eleanor asked. "Have some more."
"I can't eat the stuff, and you know it."
"This is a terrible blow to a woman's pride," Eleanor said. She went to the apartment door and opened it. The old judge stood there scowling.
"At lunchtime, too," he grumbled. "You Aliens have no innate sense of decency. Why can't you divorce your wives at breakfast?"
"Your Wisdom," Eleanor said, "my husband refuses to eat the food I have prepared."
"Is this true?" the judge demanded. "I ask you now, in the presence of a witness, to eat."
Dudley glared at Eleanor. He clenched his teeth and firmly shook his head.
"You will now eat of the food to demonstrate that it is properly prepared," the judge said to Eleanor.
"Certainly," Eleanor said. She took Dudley's bowl and ate noisily. "Delicious stuff," she said.
"The witness will note that the husband has refused to eat and that the wife has eaten. Present yourself at my office with your witness, and I shall draw up your bill of divorcement."
"Certainly, Your Wisdom," Eleanor said. "Shall we come now?"
"After lunch," the judge said. "That'll be in about three hours."
He went out, banging the door behind him.
"I still have some packing to do," Eleanor said. She flitted into the bedroom.
"I suppose Eleanor is leaving Maylor with you," Dudley said to Bakr.
Bakr nodded. "The ship leaves at midnight. We'll have the captain marry us as soon as we go on board."
"You're entirely welcome," Dudley said.
"Glad you feel that way, old man - though I can't understand why you're so eager to give up a wife like Eleanor. She was afraid you'd fight it."
"She flatters herself."
"At least we can part friends. And we wish you luck with the insurance problem and especially with McGivern. I've never seen the old boy in such a violent mood. It's too bad we didn't think of that divorce gimmick earlier. We could have saved a lot of trouble."
"Bakr!" Dudley exclaimed. "You killed that woman deliberately!"
Bakr grinned. "So what? Have you worked for McGivern all these years without his sermon getting through to you? Hasn't he ever pointed his finger and said, 'Be ruthless!'?"
"He has. Quite recently, in fact."
"You should have listened. Men at the home office have been wondering for years when their bright boy Dudley will grow up and start doing a man's work. The groundcar accident was Eleanor's idea. She wanted to get you incarcerated so you couldn't keep her from leaving Maylor. Apart from divorce, the law on this planet is entirely on the husband's side. But neither of us bore you any ill will, and when we thought of that divorce gimmick we used it to get the judge and the police off your back. We didn't have to, you know. I could have smuggled Eleanor away from Maylor and left you incarcerated indefinitely. Ready, Eleanor?"
"Ready," Eleanor said, bringing two suitcases from the bedroom. "You can junk the rest of the stuff, Walter, unless you want to keep it as a memento. Bye, bye. Keep a grip on yourself and don't be too ruthless."
Dudley went to the window and looked out. He saw Bakr and Eleanor leave the building together and walk slowly through the construction area. There was a momentary lull in the street traffic; the two of them were alone except for the workers, who were raising another load of brick.
The impulse struck Dudley so suddenly, the timing was so perfect, that he acted before he quite knew what he was doing. He whipped his penknife from his pocket, leaned out, sliced the nearest strand of rope. The sling collapsed instantly and the entire load of brick poured down upon Bakr and Eleanor.
The horrified workers ran forward. Dudley turned away, seated himself on the sofa, and waited. His only thought was that the pathetic body under his groundcar had somehow been revenged, and he almost looked forward to suffering whatever penalty this queer Maylorian legal system imposed for killing one's soon to be ex-wife.
Then McGivern burst into the room. "You idiot!" he panted. "Have you lost your mind?"
Dudley smiled calmly. "I've never felt saner."
"I was across the street - saw the whole thing." McGivern flopped down beside him. "I don't blame you for getting rid of that alley cat, but - in broad daylight, with fifty witnesses about? There's bound to be a scandal, your connection with Galactic will be publicized, and it'll be bad for business. Had you thought about that?"
"I hadn't thought of it in precisely that way."
"You wouldn't. Consider yourself fired as of yesterday. If you can manage this so Galactic isn't mentioned, I'll furnish any money you need for your defense and buy you a one-way ticket to the world of your choice when - or if - they let you go."
"That's magnanimous of you."
"I think so. Why'd you have to kill Bakr, too? I'll admit he wasn't much more than an ornament, but he had his uses. Of all the stupid, asinine, irrational things to do -"
There was a knock at the door. Dudley calmly admitted a police officer.
"There's been a most unfortunate accident," the officer said. "Accident!" McGivern exclaimed.
The police officer looked at him doubtfully. "Which of you is the Alien Dudley?" Dudley nodded gravely. "A clumsy oaf of a workman has managed to kill your wife," the officer said. "Would you oblige us by identifying the body?"
"Is that necessary?" Dudley asked.
"No. Two of your neighbors already have done so. I have sent for a judge and the workman's wife."
"The workman's wife?" McGivern sputtered. "What the devil for?"
"The workman has killed Alien Dudley's wife. He must, therefore, give his wife to Alien Dudley. Are you not familiar with our Rule of Justice?"
For one of the few times in his life, McGivern was speechless. "I shall return when all is ready for the marriage ceremony," the police officer said. "Thank you," Dudley told him.
He returned to the window. A crowd of spectators had blocked off the street. Workmen were reloading the bricks, and a doctor's robe was spread over the two bodies.
"Marriage ceremony!" McGivern said hoarsely. "What are you up to?"
"Does it matter? You just fired me."
McGivern was silent for a long time. Finally he said, "Does this fiasco have anything to do with solving the insurance problem?"