Trullion: Alastor 2262 by Jack Vance

had been dug two feet into the ground on the site of the fire. The hole was empty. Glinnes could form no sensible conjecture to account for such a hole, at the precise center of the old fire-site. At noon the Gilwegs arrived, and two hours later every evidence of the Drosset presence had been expunged.
    Meanwhile the Gilweg women prepared the best meal possible, disparaging Marucha’s larder, which they considered austere. They had never cared much for Marucha to begin with; she gave herself too many airs. The Gilwegs now knew every detail of Glinnes’ troubles. They offered an amplitude of sympathy and as much conflicting advice. Ao Gilweg, the head of the family, had spoken to Lute Casagave on several occasions. “A canny character, seething with schemes! He’s not out there on Ambal Isle for his health!”
    “It’s the usual way with offworld folk,” his wife Clara declared. “I’ve seen many, all overwrought and anxious, fussy and fastidious. Not one knows how to live a normal life.”
    “Casagave is either bashful or blind,” said Carbo. “If you pass his boat he never so much as lifts his head.”
    “He fancies himself a great noble,” said Clara with a sniff. “He’s far too good for us ordinary folk. We’ve never tasted a drop of his wine, that’s for sure.”
    Clara’s sister, Currance, asked, “Have you seen his servant? There’s a sight for you! I believe he’s half Polgonian ape, or some such mixture. That one will never set foot in my house, that much I swear.”
    “True,” declared Clara. “He has the look of a villain. And never forget: birds of a feather flock together! Lute Casagave is undoubtedly as bad as his servant!”
    Ao Gilweg held up his hands in remonstration. “Now, now! A moment for sensible thought! Nothing has been proved against either of these men; in fact, they’re not even accused!”
    “He sequestered Ambal Isle! Isn’t that enough?”
    “Perhaps he was misled, who knows? He might well be a just and innocent man.”
    “A just and innocent man would relinquish his illegal occupancy!”
    “Exactly! Perhaps Lute Casagave is that man!” Ao turned to Glinnes. “Have you discussed the matter with Lute Casagave himself? I thought not.”
    Glinnes looked skeptically toward Ambal Isle. “I suppose I could speak to him. But one stark fact remains: even a just man would want his twelve thousand ozols, which I am not prepared to supply.”
    “Refer him to Glay, to whom he paid the money,” Carbo advised. “He should have assured a clear title before he closed the bargain.”
    “It’s a strange circumstance, strange indeed … Unless he knew for a fact that Shira was indeed dead which leads into a set of macabre speculations.”
    “Bah!” declared Ao Gilweg. Take the bull by the horns; go speak to the man. Tell him to vacate your property and go for his money to Glay, the man to whom he paid it.”
    “By the Fifteen Devils, you’re right!” exclaimed Glinnes. “It is absolutely clear and obvious-he hasn’t a leg to stand on! I’ll make this clear to him tomorrow.”
    “Remember Shira!” spoke Carbo Gilweg. “He may be a man without restraint!”
    “Best to carry a weapon,” Ao Gilweg advised. “Nothing to induce humility as well as an eight-bore blaster.”
    “At the moment I have no weapon,” said Glinnes. Those Trevanyi villains gleaned my belongings like a rumblesnout sucking bugs from a box. Still, I doubt if I’ll need weapons; if Casagave, as I hope, is a reasonable man, we’ll quickly reach an understanding.”
    Between Rabendary dock and Ambal Isle lay only a few hundred yards of still water, a trip that Glinnes had made uncounted times. Never had it seemed so long. Ambal Isle showed no activity; only Casagave’s gray runabout indicated his presence. Glinnes moored bis boat, jumped up on the dock as jauntily as his still-aching ribs permitted. As etiquette demanded, he touched the bell-button before starting up the walk.
    Ambal Manor was