Kirdy shrugged.

"The affair is over and done with. I say, let it rest in peace."

"That's not the way things happen," said Glawen.

"It's also another reason why I don't want you fraternizing and gossiping with the Mummers. They must not know of our investigation."

"I still don't see what difference it makes."

"You can't be that dense. If Drusilla knows that we can link her with a set of crimes, she'll simply disappear, and we'll never know what she can tell us about her confederates.

Don't forget that she is married to Aries."

Kirdy gave a contemptuous snort.

"Are you accusing Aries as well?"

"Accusations can wait until we return to Araminta Station."

A few steps farther Kirdy made a tentative suggestion: "We could visit the Mummers but still keep a close tongue in our heads."

Glawen sighed.

"If you think that I am mishandling this investigation, make a report to Bodwyn Wook. Until then, you are under my orders, and I have made them absolutely clear.

If you disobey, I will instantly expel you from Bureau B."

"You don't have the authority."

"Just test me out, and see for yourself. You are not so disoriented as to misunderstand the meaning of an official order."

"I don't like official orders."

"Too bad."

"Not really. I've always done what I wanted, official orders or none."

The two walked on in silence. Arriving in the lobby of the Lambervoilles, Glawen made an amicable suggestion: "Let's look into the lounge and try out the virtue of the local ale."

Kirdy asked a sarcastic question: "Is that an official order?"

"Not at all," said Glawen.

"I would like to hear your appraisal of the case as it now stands."

"Why not?" asked Kirdy.

"Talk is cheap."

The two went into the lounge and took seats in deep leather chairs before a fireplace, and were served ale of good quality in tall glass beakers.

"So then," said Glawen.

"Who is guilty and who is innocent? Have you formed any opinions?"

"First of all, I wonder why you want to go out to Pogan's Point. You have learned who distributed the brochures."

"So far, so good," said Glawen.

"But I have an uncomfortable feeling that we have only seen the tip of the iceberg. For instance, Sibil wore a tattoo on her forehead."

"What of that? I've heard of ladies with port and starboard running lights tattooed on their bottoms."

"No matter. These women with tattooed foreheads are mysterious."

"There are more than one?"

"Yes. One such woman had strange dealings with Chilke.

Something is going on which neither he nor I understand.

Namour may be involved, and I'd like to find out why, how, when and where."

"Bah," muttered Kirdy.

"The folk at Pogan's Point don't know Namour."

"Probably not. I can't so much as guess what they know--but I want to find out. And tomorrow is an excellent opportunity."

"We could put the time to better use," grumbled Kirdy.

"How?"

"By visiting Diamonte and the Mummers, of course!"

Glawen said in a strained voice: "I've already explained three times and given three sets of explicit orders that I don't want you to visit the Mummers. You know my reasons.

Don't you remember?"

"I remember your words, but they carry no great conviction."

"In that case, why should I trouble to explain anything to you? Now, for possibly the fourth and certainly the last time, I issue these clear, definite and direct orders: Do not communicate with the Mummers! Do not go near them! Do not speak to, listen to, look at, signal to, send messages to the Mummers, their representatives or any members of their entourage. Do not attend any performances. In short, have nothing whatever to do with the Mummers! Have I forgotten anything? If so, include it as part of the orders.

I can't be any more definite. Am I correct in this?"

"Eh? Yes indeed. I'll have more of this excellent ale."

"Tomorrow," said Glawen, "I will be leaving early for Pogan's Point. You must sit in the lobby or in your room, but make sure the