The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump

True enough," I admitted. "And if anything is wrong - not that I think there will be - Mistress Tamarisk will have a visit from Pete and Luke when she sets up here next week."

"Which one of them is which?" Judy asked. "Oh, good!" I exclaimed. "I'm not the only one who couldn't tell, then." And when somebody like Judy has trouble telling two people apart, you know there isn't much to choose between them.

Before long, we went back to the dealers' gate: after Tamarisk's stall, the rest of the meet was strictly a downhill slide. I manhandled the spellchecker out of losefs office, poured out a little wine to enspirit the microimps, and touched the probe to Judy's ring.

Physically it was gold and copper in a ration of three to one: it had an 18-karat stamp, and lived up to it. The little emerald was a real little emerald. That was plenty to satisfy me, but as long as the microimps were looking at the ring, I let them examine its magical component as well.

I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd drawn a blank: jewelry is a trade you can, if you so choose, cany on largely without sorcerous aid. But no - Tamarisk had worked a small spell of fidelity on it, by analogy with the legionary's faithfulness to his Eagle as a symbol of Rome. That just made me happier: what better enchantment to find on an engagement ring?

Judy was reading the ground glass upside down. When she saw that, she squeezed my hand, hard. I shut down the spellchecker, hauled it to my carpet, and took it back to the constabulary station. I got a round of applause when I brought it in. "Sign him up!" somebody shouted, which made me grin like a fool.

We flew back to my block of flats after that. When we got back up to my place… well, I won't say I got molested, because I didn't feel in the least that it was a molestation, but it was something on that order. Judy and I liked pleasing each other in lots of different ways, which also augured well for the days that would come after we stood under the kiwppah together.

After Sunday, worse luck, comes Monday. With Monday, worse luck, would come the weekly office staff meeting. As if that weren't enough to start things off on the wrong foot, congealed was the only word that fit traffic on St. James' Freeway. What with my weekend peregrinations, I was starting to think I lived on that miserable freeway It's a curse of Angels City life.

When at last I got up to my desk, I discovered somebody had put a toy constabulary badge on top of the papers in my IN basket. "What's this about?" I said loudly, carrying the souvenir out into the hall.

Several people heard me squawk and stuck their heads of out their offices to see what was going on. "We didn't know till yesterday that we had a real live hero here in the office,"

Phyllis Kaminsky said. She batted her eyes at me in a way she'd evidently borrowed from the succubi she was trying to control. From her it came off as more sardonic than seductive.

"That's right," Jose Franco chimed in. "I wish my garlicspraying program would get as much good ethemet publicity as Dave pulled in last night."

"Oh, God," I said, and meant every word of it. "What have they been saying about me?" I didn't really want to know.

One more argument against having an ethemet receiver: that way you don't have to listen to what reporters do to things you were involved in.

"We heard what a brave fellow you were, breaking up this contraband ring and capturing the leader singlehanded,"

Martin Sandoval said. The graphic artist paused before he stuck the gaff in me: "So we all clubbed together to buy you that symbol of our appreciation."

I looked down at the little tin badge. If it cost half a crown, whoever bought it got cheated. "I do hope it won't bankrupt you generous people"

Bea swept into the office just then. "What won't bankrupt whom?" she asked, which meant everybody had to tell the story all over again. I resigned myself to getting ribbed worse than Adam until people got tired of the joke. Bea said, "I know a better way to commemorate the occasion: David can lead off at the meeting this morning." "Thank you, Bea," I intoned. If she'd told me I could leave after I'd given my report, that would have been worthwhile. As it was, I figured I'd taken the early lead in the running for the dubious achievement of the week award.

I went back into my office and did as much as I could till half past nine, which was meeting time. Just to make sure we couldn't pretend to forget and so accomplish something worth doing before lunch, Rose called everyone to remind us all to come on up to Bea's office. Even Michael Manstein was there, looking out of place in his white lab robe among all the business domes and Martin's casual getup (since he doesn't go out in the field, he can dress as he pleases, the lucky so and so).

"Good morning, everyone," Bea said when we'd all assembled, bright and not too eager, before her. "I think we'll begin with David this morning. By all accounts, he's had the most exciting week of any of us."