“I regret to inform you that I don’t have access to it,” said Breshinsky nervously.

“You are the account officer of the New Ecuador branch of the Bank of Misthaven, are you not?”

Breshinsky nodded again.

“Then you know on which world Dimitrios Galos initially established his business account.”

“I’m forbidden by law to tell you that,” protested Breshinsky. “That’s privileged information.”

“Which you are now going to give to me,” said the Angel, staring intently at the uncomfortable banker.

“It’s out of the question!”

“If it were out of the question, you wouldn’t have shown up.”

“I came because nobody says no to the Angel.”

“Then don’t say no now, or I could become very annoyed with you,” said the Angel gently.

“This could cost me my job!”

“This could cost you considerably more than your job.”

Breshinsky seemed to shrink within himself.

“Who is your companion?” he asked at last. “I can’t divulge sensitive information like this in front of a third party.”

“I personally guarantee her silence.”

“You’re sure?” asked Breshinsky, staring at Virtue.

“I just gave you my word.”

There was another uncomfortable pause.

“Can we at least discuss some compensation?” asked Breshinsky, his hands trembling noticeably. “My entire future is at stake if this should get out.”

“Of course,” said the Angel. “I’m not an unreasonable man.”

“Good,” said Breshinsky, pulling out a silk handkerchief and mopping his forehead. “May I sit down?”

“That won’t be necessary,” replied the Angel. “I never haggle. I’ll make one offer, and you can take it or leave it.”

“All right,” said Breshinsky. “What’s your offer?”

“Your life, Mr. Breshinsky,” said the Angel calmly.

The portly little man gasped, then emitted a nervous giggle. “You’re joking!”

“I never joke about business.”

Breshinsky stared at him for a long moment, then uttered a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. “The account was initiated on Sunnybeach.”

“Thank you, Mr. Breshinsky,” said the Angel. “You’ve been most helpful.”

“May I leave now?”

The Angel nodded, and the little banker walked rapidly to the door.

“Would you really have killed him if he hadn’t told you what you wanted to know?” asked Virtue.

“Of course.”

“I thought you only killed fugitives.”

“And fools,” added the Angel. “Eventually one comes to the realization that everyone is one or the other.”

“Including Santiago?”

“Almost everyone,” he amended.

“You’re a very cynical man,” she said.

“It must be the company I keep,” he replied. He noticed that his cigar had gone out again, and unwrapped and lit a fresh one. “We’ll leave for Sunnybeach at sunrise tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’d better go back to my hotel and start packing,” said Virtue. She paused. “What will I do with my ship?”

“That’s not my concern,” said the Angel.

“Thanks a lot.”