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Updated: May 8, 2025
He studied her face for a moment. "Commissioner Tate gave me a message for you," he said suddenly. Trigger's eyes narrowed slightly. "When?" "The day after he left." Plemponi lifted a hand. "Now wait! You'll see how it was. He called in and said, and I quote, 'Plemp, you don't stand much of a chance at keeping secrets from Trigger, so I'll give you no unnecessary secrets to keep.
There were not five men in court who were not certain that Griffenbottom was corrupt, and that Sir Thomas was not; that the borough was rotten as a six-months-old egg; that Glump had acted under one of Trigger's aides-de-camp; that intimidation was the law of the borough; and that beer was used so that men drunk might not fear that which sober they had not the courage to encounter.
Fresh alarm, real consternation, had leaped into the eyes of every man of them. "Then then, that means our search isn't over?" cried Mr. Mott, starting up. "It does! Every inch of this ship, every damned inch of it, from stem to stern. Overlook nothing, Mr. Mott. Don't delay a second." Percival was alone with the agitated Captain an instant later. Trigger's eyes were rather wild and bloodshot.
Fast work, Plemp, she thought approvingly. But it was Brule Inger's face that flashed into view on the ComWeb. Trigger's heart jumped. Her breath caught in her throat. "Brule!" she yelled then. She shot up out of her chair. "Where are you calling from?" Brule's eyes crinkled around the edges. He gave her the smile. The good old smile. "Unfortunately, darling, I'm still in the Manon System."
Like seeing one's mirror image start moving about independently. If the girl had talked, it might have reduced the effect. But she remained silent. She put on the dress Trigger had been wearing and smoothed it down. Mihul surveyed the result. She nodded. "Perfect." She took Trigger's robe and scarf from the back of a chair where someone had draped them and handed them over.
Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin. Then he turned to the young man. "Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival." "So I understand, sir."
If only he would open his eyes, I thought, he might recognize the new comer, either as friend or foe. But no, he slept on as peacefully as if he were still in the cosy dormitory at old Trigger's, with its blue and white counterpanes and windows commanding a wide sweep of distant sea.
Virod slapped a pocket of his jacket, and some part of Trigger's mind noted the gesture and suddenly came awake. "So I saw. Well too bad about Pilli. But it was necessary. Bring her here then. And be reasonably gentle." Lyad still sounded unruffled. "And put that gun in a different pocket, fool, or she'll take it away from you."
It's safer." Quillan patted him fondly on the shoulder. "That's one law-abiding citizen in this group!" He winked at Trigger. "Trigger's wondering," he told Lyad, "why she and I are being told these things." "Well, obviously," Lyad said, "Trigger and you are in an excellent position or will be, very soon to act as middlemen in the matter." "Wha...." Trigger began, astounded.
"Well," the Commissioner remarked, "this might be as good a time as any to ask a few questions. Got your little quizzer with you, Quillan?" Quillan nodded. Lyad looked at both of them in turn and then, briefly and for the first time, glanced in Trigger's direction. It wasn't exactly an appealing glance. It might have been a questioning one.
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