“It has always been an honor to serve your needs, Ms. Rabinowitz.”
“Then tell me the truth: Did you kill your master?”
“Absolutely not. It would be unspeakable to break so sacred a trust.”
“I believe you. But your police don’t care about my opinions, so we’ll have to bombard them with facts. Tell me your side of what happened that day.”
“I was working as usual in the Highest’s office up until an hour before the time when they tell me the murder occurred—”
“You were working that day? Levexitor said it was your day off.”
“No, I was working. Then a call came in on the Highest’s personal line. He grew very agitated, then told me my services would not be needed for the rest of the day. He practically pushed me out of the house.”
“Do you know who that call was from or what it was about?”
“No, Ms. Rabinowitz, I do not.”
“Had he ever had calls like that before?”
“Several times over the past few months. Frequently he would tell me to go home. I think there was someone he did not want me seeing.”
“That’s a good bet. What did you do when he shooed you out on the day he died?”
“I went home, as he suggested.”
“Can the cab driver verily your story?”
“I could not afford a cab, Ms. Rabinowitz. I walked home.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“Thousands of people saw me, but no one knew me. I have no way to prove I was not in the Highest’s house at that time.”
“No alibi. OK, then tell me this: Do you know anyone named Raj-Pen Dewahl?”
“He is a petty merchant hoping in a hurry to make himself tall. He has always been hovering around the edges of the Highest’s deals, hoping to grab some leavings for himself.”
“Do you think he might have killed your master?”
“I don’t think he has that much originality of thought.”
“My feeling, too. Have you heard the names Peter Whitefish, Jivin Rash-tapurdi or Nils Fredericksen?”
“Peter Whitefish, yes. He was another broker from Earth that the Highest had some dealings with. Occasionally I was excluded from their meetings, but I don’t think it was he who made those suspicious calls. That would have been someone of a much greater size than him. The other two names I have not heard at all. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. There’s no reason you should know them.” She paused. “What about a Detective Hoy, a policeman from Earth?”
“I believe he called several times. The Highest refused to speak with him.”
“Well, he had some taste. I want to thank you for talking with me. I hope I can do something to save your life.”
“My life is probably forfeit, but I appreciate your efforts, Ms. Rabino-witz.” Chalnas looked the picture of despair as his guards escorted him once again from the visiting cell.
She found a message from Detective Hoy on her phone mail when she returned home. “I think we need to have a talk, Ms. Rabinowitz,” he said. “Peter Whitefish is dead.”
“Miami Beach?” Rabinowitz said.
“Well, it seems he had a beach house there.” Hoy sat across from her in the parlor, immaculately dressed and ogling her with his usual intensity. “Maybe he felt safer there than New York.”
“But why should Interpol concern itself with an ordinary mugging?”
“He was found in an alley. He’d been beaten, then stabbed with a hunting knife you could buy at any hardware store. All his cards were taken; the Miami police had a hell of a time identifying his body. An ordinary mugging. A studiously ordinary mugging.”
“They’ve been known to happen.”
“Not to people on my list.”
“It’s getting shorter, isn’t it?”
“A lady’s not supposed to notice such things.”
“A lady’s not even supposed to be involved in such things,” Rabinowitz said. “But since I’m on the list and someone tried to kill me, I can’t help taking perverse curiosity in it.”
“There was a message from you on his phone mail.”
“As if you had to check his phone mail to know that.”
“Please, Ms. Rabinowitz. Allow us to keep up at least the appearance of innocence.”
“Neither the believer nor the atheist is completely satisfied with appearances. And why shouldn’t I call him? We’re in the same business. Or were.”
“Will you miss him?”
“Like a mildew stain in the bathroom.”
“A man of tarnished ethics, as I understand it.”
“Tarnished?” Rabinowitz chuckled. “I doubt that very much. His ethics were bright and shiny and new. They’d never been used. He attracted bright young writers to sign with him, then stifled them. His contracts were so tight his clients had to sacrifice all their early work to get out of them—and I know quite a few that did. There may be tears at Peter’s funeral, but they won’t be of grief.”
“Sounds like you’re the perfect suspect for his murder.”
“I have no motive except for the strictly intellectual one of purifying my industry. And you know I haven’t been to Miami lately.”
“As a detective, I just despise coincidence.”
“Really?” Rabinowitz smiled broadly. “Let me share some more with you, then. Levexitor is dead. White-fish is dead. I was very nearly dead. And one thing we all had in common was an Interpol detective with a conspiracy theory. Is it just coincidence that you’re linked to all the murders, actual and attempted?”
Hoy nodded. “An interesting hypothesis. It has a certain naive charm and simplistic elegance. It’s utterly wrong, of course, but worth considering for a few seconds. Since I know I’m innocent, I hope you won’t mind if I just discard it out of hand.”
“And since I know I’m innocent, we can remove me from the picture, too.”
“Nice try, Ms. Rabinowitz. Well, as you said, the list is getting shorter all the time. If I wait long enough, I’ll just have to arrest the last person standing.”
“Since I don’t intend to fall and since I’ve committed no crimes, I find that unacceptable. You’ll have to rein in that police mentality of yours.” She stood up. “Now, if you don’t have any other startling news for me—”
Recognizing his cue, Hoy stood too. “I certainly hope I don’t have to arrest you. Although I do know a few games we could play with handcuffs.”
“Tell you what. Start without me and I’ll catch up. I’m overdue right now for an appointment where murder is much more straightforward.”
Hoy looked at her curiously. “Where’s that?”
“Eleventh-century Scotland.”
It was nighttime in the courtyard, black and gloomy in many places with just occasional spots lit by torches. The castle walls, when they could be seen at all, were stone and mortar, solidly built to withstand the most punishing assault a medieval Scotsman could conceive. A group of people, some in period garb and some casually modern, were standing around talking as Rabinowitz walked on from stage right.
“Sorry I’m late, people,” she said hurriedly. “The director should set an example—”
That was as far as she got, as the others burst into applause and several of them rushed over to see how she was. “We’re just glad you’re here at all,” one young woman said. “Especially me. They expected me to direct. I’m just a stage manager.”
“Thank you, Fran,” Rabinowitz said, “both for saving my life and for doing my job. I’m sure you were wonderful.” Several of the other people nodded.
“It’s too much work. I just want to solve problems and deal with disasters. You can tell them where to stand.”
“To be quite honest I’d rather be here putting you all through your paces than lying in a hospital bed.”