“Pity.” He pulled out a handsome cigarette case and offered one to her.

“No, thanks.”

“They’re very good,” he said, removing one and lighting it up. “Imported from the Kakkab Kastu system.”

“I prefer my own,” she said, withdrawing a distinctive box.

“Don’t you find those kind of harsh?” he asked.

“I’ve been smoking them since I’ve been on the Frontier,” replied Virtue. “They grow on you after a while.”

“You’ve been on the Frontier?”

“For almost a year.”

“What were you doing out there?”

“The same thing I’m doing on Pegasus: following up a story.” She paused. “I’ve also picked up a pretty interesting partner.”

“I thought you always worked alone,” said Smythe.

“This time I needed help.”

“Is it anyone I know?”

“Probably not,” Virtue replied. “Ever hear of the Songbird?”

He shook his head. “Is that her byline?”

“It’s a him.”

“I’ve never seen any of his features.”

“That’s not surprising. He’s a bounty hunter.”

“What the hell kind of story are you working on?”

“If I tell you, we’re all through exchanging pleasantries and we start talking business.”

He shifted his weight uneasily but nodded in agreement. “We’re going to do it sooner or later. I suppose we ought to get it over with.” He paused. “Salvatore Acosta was a small-time smuggler who died broke. He wasn’t worth much more than a five-second obituary. So who are you really after?”

“Santiago.”

He laughed. “You and ten thousand other journalists.”

“I’m different,” said Virtue seriously. “I’m going to get him.”

“I wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” she replied. “I need information.”

“You probably know more about Acosta than I do.”

“Forget Acosta,” said Virtue. “He’s a dead end. I need something else.”

“Such as?”

“Someone who can tell me where Santiago is.”

Smythe laughed again. “Why don’t you ask for a million credits while you’re at it? One’s as likely as the other.”

“This person doesn’t have to know Santiago’s headquarters. He just has to point me in the right direction.”

“What the hell makes you think anyone on Pegasus has any dealings with Santiago?”

“Because, with all due respect for your beautiful city, it’s not exactly a vacation spa. Acosta was here to deliver some goods or some money, or else to pick something up. He probably didn’t deal directly with the person I want—but that doesn’t mean you can’t help me find that person.”

“Are you telling me Acosta worked for Santiago?” asked Smythe.

“Indirectly. I doubt that they ever met. Acosta was just a conduit for stolen goods, or perhaps money. What I need from you is the name of the biggest operator in Hektor.”

“Harrison Brett,” replied Smythe without hesitation.

“Does he have a criminal record?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He’s got thirty arrests.”

“Any convictions?”

Smythe looked uncomfortable. “Two.”