The Martian Ambassador by Alan K Baker Page A

set up procedure, and remove the dream catcher, thus leaving the cogitator vulnerable to infection.’
    ‘And presumably,’ added Sophia, ‘the djinn was then purposely directed at the machine, with the intention of destroying your mind.’
    ‘Quite so.’ Blackwood and Sophia looked at each other. ‘Still doesn’t quite add up, does it?’
    ‘Unless...’ said Sophia, and then gave a small gasp. ‘Unless someone knew that you would be assigned to the case, which means–’
    ‘Which means that there is a traitor in Her Majesty’s Bureau of Clandestine Affairs!’ said Blackwood in a grim, bitter voice. ‘It’s the only explanation that makes sense. The events must have run like this: on the evening of the twenty-second, Lunan R’ondd dies during the banquet at Buckingham Palace; a post-mortem is performed the following day, during which the Acarus galvanicus larvae are discovered in his body; while I am buying my cogitator, Grandfather decides to put me on the case and sends for me; while I am away from my rooms, Shanahan and the other De Dananns complete the set up procedure and leave the cogitator; sometime thereafter, something enters the machine and removes the dream catcher.’
    ‘You say “something”, but couldn’t it have been a person who broke into your apartments and sabotaged your cogitator?’
    ‘I think not, for although you yourself have proved how easily a lock can be picked, I have ways of detecting unauthorised entry to my home: telltale signs which I will not go into now. Suffice it to say that when I returned from Buckingham Palace this morning, I saw no signs of a break-in. But regarding the train of events I have described, the only hypothesis that can account for them is that someone at the Bureau knew of Grandfather’s intention to give the case to me.’
    ‘Do you have any idea who that could be?’ asked Sophia.
    ‘Peter Meddings.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘The man who delivered Grandfather’s summons to me. Meddings obviously knew that the Bureau was about to begin an investigation, and he clearly guessed the reason for his own assignment.’
    Sophia sat quietly for a moment, digesting this. ‘Do you think that Meddings could be the one who murdered the Ambassador?’ she wondered.
    Blackwood shook his head. ‘I doubt it. I suspect that he is merely somebody’s flunky. As to who that somebody is... well, it’s certainly someone with a profound knowledge of the occult.’
    ‘Including Arabian Star Magick.’
    ‘Indeed.’
    ‘But surely we are headed in the wrong direction!’ exclaimed Sophia. ‘Surely we should apprehend this Meddings fellow immediately and question him.’
    Blackwood smiled at his companion. ‘I admire your readiness to spring to action, but I don’t believe that would be wise – at least, not yet. Assuming that Meddings is indeed culpable in this affair, it may be better to let him believe he is not under suspicion for a little while longer, during which time we may be able to gather more evidence against him.’
    ‘And in the meantime,’ added Sophia, ‘Mr Shanahan may be able to come up with additional information.’
    ‘Quite right. I will, however, telegraph Grandfather from Paddington, to let him know of our suspicions and to ask him to keep an eye on Mr Meddings.’
    ‘Wouldn’t you run the risk of alerting Meddings by doing so?’
    ‘I think not. Grandfather has his own telegraph machine in his office, to which no one else has access – not even Miss Ripley...’
    ‘Miss Ripley? Grandfather’s secretary?’
    ‘The same.’
    ‘Is it not possible that she might be the traitor?’
    Blackwood guffawed at this, then recovered himself and apologised. ‘Forgive me, Sophia. It’s possible , of course, but most unlikely, I assure you: Miss Ripley has served the Bureau faithfully and admirably for many years.’
    ‘I see,’ Sophia smiled. ‘In that case, you must forgive me for impugning her good character.’
    ‘Not at all, my dear. We must