“Thank you,” he said after returning to his chair and taking a sip. Suddenly he laughed in self-deprecation.

“What is it, Mr. Cain?”

He held up the glass. “I just realized that there’s normal gravity in this room,” he replied. “Some observant hunter I am! If I hadn’t noticed that this stuff didn’t float away, I would never have known.”

“The Orange Monkeys like zero gravity. I find continued exposure to it a bit upsetting, so I tailor my office to my own needs.”

“It must cost a fortune,” he commented.

“It does. Thankfully, I’ve got a fortune to spare.”

He took another sip. “This is pretty good stuff.”

“It ought to be,” she said. “It comes straight from Deluros Eight.”

“You handle merchandise from that far away?”

“You’d be surprised at what passes through Deadly Nightshade, Mr. Cain,” she replied. “Or perhaps you wouldn’t. Exactly how much did Stern tell you about Duncan Black?”

“Only that Black handled stolen goods, and that he was a middleman between Stern and Santiago,” replied Cain. “I know he had access to some of the gold that Santiago picked up in the Epsilon Eridani raid.”

“Now that was a cargo!” she said with a smile. “Six hundred million credits’ worth of pure bullion!”

“I got the impression from Terwilliger that you decided to follow in Black’s footsteps.”

“Terwilliger talks too much.”

“Most people do,” agreed Cain.

“Besides, they were my footsteps to begin with,” she continued. “I was dealing in stolen commodities long before Duncan Black ever thought of it.” She paused. “I gave him a share of the business to insure his loyalty.” She looked at Cain. “Does that seem manipulative and immoral to you?”

“I gave up making moral judgments a long time ago,” he replied.

“Anyway,” said the Sargasso Rose, sipping her drink, “Duncan liked dealing with people more than I did, so he became our front man for places like Port étrange and people like Stern.”

“Then you made the initial contact with Santiago, not Black.”

“Actually, Santiago made the initial contact with me,” she answered him. “Though it took a few years before I knew beyond any doubt that I was dealing with him.”

“Have you ever met him?” asked Cain.

She shook her head. “No. Or perhaps I should say, not to my knowledge.”

“But you might have?”

“Who’s to say?” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I met any number of people who delivered goods that Santiago may have stolen—though in truth I can’t imagine why he would have risked exposure by coming here.”

“Do you know anyone who has actually met him face to face?” persisted Cain.

“Yes, I do.”

“Who?”

“Before I tell you, Mr. Cain,” said the Sargasso Rose, “there are a few things I would like to know, just to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Such as?”