8
The waiter unplugged the telephone and lifted it from their table.
"We're ready to order now," Maya said to him. "And please ask Mr. Gren to come in here."
A few moments after the waiter left, the manager came to their table. Quelman Gren was dark and thin-faced, with sleek, oily hair.
"When I told you I was here in an official capacity for the government, Mr. Gren, you said you would co-operate with me in every way possible," said Maya.
"Yes, Miss Cara Nome, I have made every effort to do so," replied Gren. "Is there some way I can help you now?"
"Yes, there is," she said. "This man is my prisoner, and I'm going to have to keep him in custody here for two days and a half, until help arrives from Mars City. I'd like for you to arm a couple of dependable men with heatguns and assign them to help me guard him."
Gren shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Miss Cara Nome, but none of the employees of the Chateau Nectaris was employed for that sort of work, and I'm not going to ask them to do it. What you should have is police help."