said so. I would have quoted you
a price. I did not. I gave you an unqualified refusal. I give it to you
still. _No._ Flatly, absolutely, and finally ... _no_."

Nguma was the only one of the three who could find his tongue
immediately. "I should think," he said somewhat acidly, "that you would
consider it your duty to--"

The detective cut him off. "My duty, Mr. Nguma, is, at this moment, to
my employers. I am a paid investigator for Lloyd's of London, Belt
branch. I draw a salary that is more than adequate for my needs and
almost adequate for my taste in the little luxuries of life. I am, for
the time being at least, satisfied with my work. So are my employers.
Until one or the other of us becomes dissatisfied, the situation will
remain as it is. I will not accept any outside work of any kind except
at the instructions of, or with the permission of, my employers. I have
neither. I want neither at this time. That is all, gentlemen. Good day."

"But the money ..." Nguma said.

"The money should be withdrawn from the bank and returned to Earth. I
suggest you return it to the people who have donated it to your
organization. If that is impossible, I suggest you donate it to the
Government officials who are working so hard to do the job you want
done. I assure you, they are much more capable than I of dealing with
the Nipe. Good day, Mr. Nguma, Mr. Vandenbosch, Mr. Gerrol."

They looked hurt, bewildered, and angry. Only Mr. Barnabas Nguma looked
as if he might have some slight understanding of what had happened. He
was the only one who spoke. "Good day, Mr. Martin. I am sorry we have
disturbed you. Thank you for your valuable time," he said with dignity.
And then the three men walked out the door, closing it behind them.

The detective sat behind his desk, looking at the door, almost as if he
could see the men beyond it as they moved down the corridor. Several
minutes later, when his secretary opened the door again, he was still
staring thoughtfully at it. She thought he was staring at her.

"Something the matter, Mr. Martin?" she asked.

"What? Oh. No, no. Nothing, Helen; nothing. Just wool-gathering. Did you
see our visitors out all right?"

She glided in and closed the door behind her. "Well, none of them fell
and broke a leg, if that's what you mean. But that Mr. Gerrol looked as
though he might break a blood vessel. I take it you turned them down
again?"

"Yes. For the last time, I think. It's a shame they h