"Barth, have the girl in the black cloak brought down to Number Four Interview Room. Put the other two in separate detention cubicles; we'll talk to them later." He broke the connection and got to his feet. "Come on, Dalla. I want you to help me with the girl."
"Just try and stop me," Dalla told him. "Any interviews you have with that little item, I want to sit in on."
The Proletarian girl, still guarded by a detective, had already been placed in the interview room. The detective nodded to Vall, tried to suppress a grin when he saw Dalla behind him, and went out. Vall saw his wife and the prisoner seated, and produced his cigarette case, handing it around.
"You're Zinganna; you're of the household of Councilman Salgath Trod, aren't you?" he asked.
"Housekeeper and hostess," the girl replied. "I am also his mistress."
Vall nodded, smiling. "Which confirms my long-standing respect for Councilman Salgath's exquisite taste."
"Why, thank you," she said. "But I doubt if I was brought here to receive compliments. Or was I?"
"No, I'm afraid not. Have you heard the newscasts of the past few hours concerning Councilman Salgath?"
She straightened in her seat, looking at him seriously.