He blocked it on his
forearm. Immediately, the girl in black turned and said something to
her, and she subsided. Vall said, into the box:
"Barth, have the girl in the black cloak brought down to Number Four
Interview Room. Put the other two in separate detention cubicles;
we'll talk to them later." He broke the connection and got to his
feet. "Come on, Dalla. I want you to help me with the girl."
"Just try and stop me," Dalla told him. "Any interviews you have with
that little item, I want to sit in on."
* * * * *
The Proletarian girl, still guarded by a detective, had already been
placed in the interview room. The detective nodded to Vall, tried to
suppress a grin when he saw Dalla behind him, and went out. Vall saw
his wife and the prisoner seated, and produced his cigarette case,
handing it around.
"You're Zinganna; you're of the household of Councilman Salgath Trod,
aren't you?" he asked.
"Housekeeper and hostess," the girl replied. "I am also his mistress."
Vall nodded, smiling. "Which confirms my long-standing respect for
Councilman Salgath's exquisite taste.
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