“The daughter of the house,” said Queter, “knew that I hated her for taking advantage of my sister. She came to me and said that she wanted the fleet captain to die, that the fleet captain always bathed early before anyone else was awake, and an explosion in the bathhouse at the right time was sure to kill her.” Raughd scoffed again, drew breath to speak, but then met her mother’s look and said nothing, just crossed her arms and turned to stare at the antique blue and green tea set, on its stand three and a half meters away from where she stood.

“The daughter of the house,” continued Queter, her voice steady but just a bit louder in case anyone tried to speak over her, “told me that she would supply me with the explosive if I didn’t know where to get it. If I refused, the daughter of the house would do it herself and be sure the blame fell on my sister. If I would do it, she would grant my sister clientage, and she would be sure the blame never fell on me.” She looked over at Raughd then, whose back was still to the rest of the room. Said, with withering contempt, “The daughter of the house thinks I’m stupid.” She looked back at the magistrate. “I can understand why someone would want to kill the fleet captain, but I don’t have any personal argument with her. The daughter of the house is another matter. I knew that whatever happened I would be going through Security and my sister would have nothing but grief. For such a price, why not be rid of the person who threatened my sister?”

“You’re a very articulate young person,” said the magistrate after three seconds of silence. “And by all accounts fairly intelligent. You know, I hope, that you can’t possibly lie about this without being discovered.” A competently conducted interrogation with drugs would uncover a person’s most secret thoughts.

But of course, if authorities assumed the truth of your guilt, they might not bother to conduct any such interrogation. And if someone truly, mistakenly believed something, that’s all an interrogation would uncover. “Interrogate the daughter of the house, Magistrate,” said Queter, “and discover if what I say is true.”

“You admit that you tried to kill Citizen Raughd,” remarked the magistrate dryly, “and that you have, as you put it, a personal argument with her. I have no reason to assume that you’re not just making this up in order to cause her as much difficulty as possible.”

“I’ll make a formal accusation if one is needed, Magistrate,” I said. “But tell me, have you found the source of the explosive?”

“Security confirms it likely came from a construction site. None of the sites nearby reports anything missing.”