Captain Smollett’s eyes narrowed. “No, m’lud, never.”

“Why not, Captain?”

“It would be stupid, m’lud. Yes. As long as we know who he is… uh… if we knew who he was… it would be much more to our advantage to keep an eye on him, to watch him; to see to it, in fact, that he got the information that we wanted him to have, rather than the information he wants. Also, our knowing the Chief of Polish Intelligence would lead us to his agents. It is much easier to keep the body under surveillance when one can identify the head, m’lud.”

“Then would you say, Captain, that it would be very stupid of Polish Intelligence to have murdered Master Sir James Zwinge?”

“Very stupid, m’lud. Wouldn’t be at all good Intelligence tactics. Not at all.” For a moment, Captain Smollett blinked solemnly, digesting this new thought.

“Not even if Master Sir James had discovered that Master Ewen was working for the Poles?” Lord Darcy asked.

“Hmn-m-m. Probably not. Much better to pull Master Ewen out, move him to another post, give him a new identity.”

“Thank you, Captain Smollett.

“Now. As you have seen,” his words took in the entire company, “there is some question about whether Master Ewen could have committed this crime by Black Magic, and so skillfully hidden the evidence thereof that his complicity in the crime was undetectable. I put it to you, my lords, Your Grace, gentlemen, that he could not.

“Father Patrique.” He looked at the Benedictine.

The priest bowed his head. “Yes, my lord?”

“You have examined Master Ewen since his arrest, Reverend Father?”

“I have, my lord.”

“Is Master Ewen’s Talent as strong, as powerful, as effective as that of Master Sean O Lochlainn?”

“My lord Advocate…” The good father then turned his attention to my lord of London. “…And may it please the Court…”

“Proceed, Reverend Sir,” said my lord the Marquis.

“…I feel that, while my own testimony is adequate, it is not the best. In answer to your direct question, my lord, I must say that Master Ewen’s Talent is weaker, far poorer, than that of Master Sean O Lochlainn.

“But I put it to you, my lords, that this is not the best evidence. Observe, if you will, the relative ease with which Master Sean conquered Master Ewen in the battle of wills at the Manzana de Oro. Observe how very simple it was to break the spells on Master Ewen’s room lock and upon the carpetbag in which he carried his tools. I beg your pardon, my lord Advocate, if I am out of order.”

“Not at all, Reverend Sir,” said Lord Darcy. “But I will ask you once more. Will you testify that Master Sean’s Talent is much more powerful than Master Ewen’s?”

“It is, my lord.”

Lord Darcy looked at Grand Master Sir Lyon Gandolphus Grey.

“Have you anything to add to this, Grand Master?”

Sir Lyon nodded. “If it please the Court, I should like to put a question to Commander Lord Ashley.”

“Permission granted,” rumbled de London. “Ask your question.”

“My Lord Commander,” said Sir Lyon. “You have described to the investigators the use by Master Ewen of the Tarnhelm Effect upon his smallsword. Would you—”

“One moment,” said Lord Darcy. “I should like My Lord Commander to testify directly. If you would, Lord Ashley?”

“Of course, my lord.”

Lord Darcy looked at Sir Lyon. “You want a description of the battle on Somerset Bridge, Sir Lyon?”

“Yes, if you please, my lord.”

Lord Darcy looked at Lord Ashley. “If you will, My Lord Commander.”

Lord Ashley described exactly the sword fight on the bridge.

Then Sir Lyon said, “With the Court’s permission I should like to ask the witness a question or two.”

“Granted,” said My Lord de London.

“My Lord Commander,” said Sir Lyon, “what kind of sword was Master Ewen using?”

“A smallsword, Grand Master. A sword with a triangular cross section — no edge — about two and a half feet in length — very sharp point.”

Sir Lyon nodded. “You saw it. Then, when he began to use it, it disappeared?”

“Not exactly disappeared, Sir Lyon,” Lord Ashley said. “It… it flickered. I… I find it difficult to explain. It is simply that I couldn’t keep my eyes on it. But I knew it was there.”

“Thank you, Commander,” said Sir Lyon. “Now, if the Court will permit, I will give my testimony. A really powerful sorcerer, such as Master Sir James or Master Sean O Lochlainn—”

“Or yourself?” Lord Darcy asked suddenly.

Sir Lyon smiled. “…Or myself, if you insist, my lord Advocate. Any powerful sorcerer could have made his sword so completely invisible as to be totally undetectable.”

“Thank you,” said Lord Darcy. “The question I wish to put before the Court is this: Is it possible that a man of Master Ewen’s limited Talent — even though it was of Master grade — could have acted out a rite of Black Magic and then covered it up to such an extent that neither Master Sean O Lochlainn nor the combined Talents of the other Masters of the Guild at the Convention could have failed to discover what he had done?”

“Absolutely impossible, my lord,” said Sir Lyon firmly.

Lord Darcy glanced back at the Benedictine priest. “What say you, Reverend Father?”

“I agree completely with Grand Master Sir Lyon,” Father Patrique said quietly.

Lord Darcy turned to look at the Marquis of London. “Is there any need at this point, my lord, to call to the Court’s attention the testimony of Master Sean O Lochlainn, Master Sorcerer, that he could detect no Black Magic involved in the murder of Master Sir James Zwinge?”

“You may proceed, my lord. If such evidence becomes necessary, Master Sean’s testimony will be called for if and when it is needed.”

“Thank you, my lord. We have” — Lord Darcy paused and looked the group over again — “then the evidence before us that Sir James Zwinge was killed by ordinary physical means. There was no Black Magic involved in the murder of Sir James Zwinge, and yet the evidence shows that he was alone in his room when he was stabbed at approximately nine o’clock and when he died half an hour later. Now, how could that be?

“I put it to you that we are far too prone to accept a magical explanation, when a simply material explanation will do.”

He leaned back in his chair, but before he could say anything, Sir Thomas Leseaux raised his hand. “If I may, my lord, I should like to say that any theory of this murder which includes thaumaturgical processes would be mathematically impossible — but I do not see how a man could have been killed in the middle of a locked room by ordinary material means.”

“That is why I must explain the Crown’s case,” said Lord Darcy. “Although, I repeat, the evidence is all before you.

“The point we have all tended to overlook is that a man need not be in the same room with another in order to kill him. There was no one else in Goodman Georges Barbour’s room when he was stabbed, true — and yet he fell so near the door that it is not only quite possible but very probable that someone standing in the hall stabbed him.”

“Come now,” said Commander Lord Ashley, “that may be possible with Goodman Georges, but it certainly does not apply to Master Sir James.”

“Oh, but it does, My Lord Commander,” Lord Darcy said. “Given the proper implement, Master Sir James might easily have been stabbed from the hallway outside his room.”

“But — through a locked door?” asked Lord John Quetzal.

“Why not?” asked Lord Darcy. “Locked doors are not impermeable. The doors to the rooms in the Royal Steward are very old — couple of centuries or more. Look at the size of the key required to open them. And then look at the size of the keyhole required to admit such a large, heavy key. Although the door to Sir James’ room was locked, its keyhole was easily large enough to admit a one-inch wide blade.”

Lord Darcy looked at Master Sean O Lochlainn. “You have a question, Master Sean?”