recording machine that walked and talked like a man.
Did Gruer know that? His look at Daneel had certainly something of the furtive about it.
Gruer said, “No, I cannot say the murderer is completely unknown. In fact, there is only one person that can possibly have done the deed.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean only one person who is
likely
to have done the deed?” Baley distrusted overstatement and had no liking for the armchair deducer who discovered certainty rather than probability in the workings of logic.
But Gruer shook his bald head. “No. Only one possible person. Anyone else is impossible. Completely impossible.”
“Completely?”
“I assure you.”
“Then you have no problem.”
“On the contrary. We do have a problem. That one person couldn’t have done it either.”
Baley said calmly, “Then no one did it.”
“Yet the deed was done. Rikaine Delmarre is dead.”
That’s something, thought Baley. Jehoshaphat, I’ve got
something
. I’ve got the victim’s name.
He brought out his notebook and solemnly made note of it, partly out of a wry desire to indicate that he had scraped up, at last, a nubbin of fact, and partly to avoid making it too obvious that he sat by the side of a recording machine who needed no notes.
He said, “How is the victim’s name spelled?”
Gruer spelled it.
“His profession, sir?”
“Fetologist.”
Baley spelled that as it sounded and let it go. He said, “Now who would be able to give me a personal account of the circumstances surrounding the murder? As firsthand as possible.”
Gruer’s smile was grim and his eyes shifted to Daneel again, and then away. “His wife, Plainclothesman.”
“His wife … ?”
“Yes. Her name is Gladia.” Gruer pronounced it in three syllables, accenting the second.
“Any children?” Baley’s eyes were fixed on his notebook. When no answer came, he looked up. “Any children?”
But Gruer’s mouth had pursed up as though he had tasted something sour. He looked sick. Finally he said, “I would scarcely know.”
Baley said, “What?”
Gruer added hastily, “In any case, I think you had better postpone actual operations till tomorrow. I know you’ve had a hard trip, Mr. Baley, and that you are tired and probably hungry.”
Baley, about to deny it, realized suddenly that the thought of food had an uncommon attraction for him at the moment. He said, “Will you join us at our meal?” He didn’t think Gruer would, being a Spacer. (Yet he had been brought to the point of saying “Mr. Baley” rather than “Plainclothesman Baley,” which was something.)
As expected, Gruer said, “A business engagement makes that impossible. I will have to leave. I am sorry.”
Baley rose. The polite thing would be to accompany Gruer to the door. In the first place, however, he wasn’t at all anxious to approach the door and the unprotected open. And in the second he wasn’t sure where the door was.
He remained standing in uncertainty.
Gruer smiled and nodded. He said, “I will see you again. Your robots will know the combination if you wish to talk to me.”
And he was gone.
Baley exclaimed sharply.
Gruer and the chair he was sitting on were simplynot there. The wall behind Gruer, the floor under his feet changed with explosive suddenness.
Daneel said calmly, “He was not there in the flesh at any time. It was a trimensional image. It seemed to me you would know. You have such things on Earth.”
“Not like this,” muttered Baley.
A trimensional image on Earth was encased in a cubic force-field that glittered against the background. The image itself had a tiny flicker. On Earth there was no mistaking image for reality. Here …
No wonder Gruer had worn no gloves. He needed no nose filters, for that matter.
Daneel said, “Would you care to eat now, Partner Elijah?”
Dinner was an unexpected ordeal. Robots appeared. One set the table. One brought in the food.
“How many are there in the house,
Did Gruer know that? His look at Daneel had certainly something of the furtive about it.
Gruer said, “No, I cannot say the murderer is completely unknown. In fact, there is only one person that can possibly have done the deed.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean only one person who is
likely
to have done the deed?” Baley distrusted overstatement and had no liking for the armchair deducer who discovered certainty rather than probability in the workings of logic.
But Gruer shook his bald head. “No. Only one possible person. Anyone else is impossible. Completely impossible.”
“Completely?”
“I assure you.”
“Then you have no problem.”
“On the contrary. We do have a problem. That one person couldn’t have done it either.”
Baley said calmly, “Then no one did it.”
“Yet the deed was done. Rikaine Delmarre is dead.”
That’s something, thought Baley. Jehoshaphat, I’ve got
something
. I’ve got the victim’s name.
He brought out his notebook and solemnly made note of it, partly out of a wry desire to indicate that he had scraped up, at last, a nubbin of fact, and partly to avoid making it too obvious that he sat by the side of a recording machine who needed no notes.
He said, “How is the victim’s name spelled?”
Gruer spelled it.
“His profession, sir?”
“Fetologist.”
Baley spelled that as it sounded and let it go. He said, “Now who would be able to give me a personal account of the circumstances surrounding the murder? As firsthand as possible.”
Gruer’s smile was grim and his eyes shifted to Daneel again, and then away. “His wife, Plainclothesman.”
“His wife … ?”
“Yes. Her name is Gladia.” Gruer pronounced it in three syllables, accenting the second.
“Any children?” Baley’s eyes were fixed on his notebook. When no answer came, he looked up. “Any children?”
But Gruer’s mouth had pursed up as though he had tasted something sour. He looked sick. Finally he said, “I would scarcely know.”
Baley said, “What?”
Gruer added hastily, “In any case, I think you had better postpone actual operations till tomorrow. I know you’ve had a hard trip, Mr. Baley, and that you are tired and probably hungry.”
Baley, about to deny it, realized suddenly that the thought of food had an uncommon attraction for him at the moment. He said, “Will you join us at our meal?” He didn’t think Gruer would, being a Spacer. (Yet he had been brought to the point of saying “Mr. Baley” rather than “Plainclothesman Baley,” which was something.)
As expected, Gruer said, “A business engagement makes that impossible. I will have to leave. I am sorry.”
Baley rose. The polite thing would be to accompany Gruer to the door. In the first place, however, he wasn’t at all anxious to approach the door and the unprotected open. And in the second he wasn’t sure where the door was.
He remained standing in uncertainty.
Gruer smiled and nodded. He said, “I will see you again. Your robots will know the combination if you wish to talk to me.”
And he was gone.
Baley exclaimed sharply.
Gruer and the chair he was sitting on were simplynot there. The wall behind Gruer, the floor under his feet changed with explosive suddenness.
Daneel said calmly, “He was not there in the flesh at any time. It was a trimensional image. It seemed to me you would know. You have such things on Earth.”
“Not like this,” muttered Baley.
A trimensional image on Earth was encased in a cubic force-field that glittered against the background. The image itself had a tiny flicker. On Earth there was no mistaking image for reality. Here …
No wonder Gruer had worn no gloves. He needed no nose filters, for that matter.
Daneel said, “Would you care to eat now, Partner Elijah?”
Dinner was an unexpected ordeal. Robots appeared. One set the table. One brought in the food.
“How many are there in the house,
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