“That would be very helpful.”
At dinner Pirie Tamm announced that he had assembled a considerable body of information; “Probably as much as you will need, However, I suggest that we postpone the report until after dinner, since I have a tendency toward discursiveness. Notice this tureen! We have been served a truly noble dish: stewed duck with dumplings and leeks."
“Just as you like, Uncle Pirie.”
"I will say this much: over the centuries the family has been neither staid nor stolid, but has produced its share of adventurers and eccentrics, as well as several renowned scholars. Naturally there are hints of a scandal or two. At the moment, this particular quantity seems to have gone into abeyance. It is an aged woman, the Countess Ottilie, with whom you must deal."
Wayness mulled over the information in silence. A thought occurred to her. “You mentioned that Julian used the telephone before he left?”
“Yes; so he did.”
“You have no idea whom he called?”
“None whatever.”
“Odd. Julian has never mentioned friends on Earth and it is just what he would most likely talk about."
“For a fact, he is quite a talker.” Pirie Tamm grinned sourly. “He is dissatisfied with Ararninta Station and its social and environmental works.”
“There is room for criticism; everyone agrees to that,” said Wayness. “If the staff had done a better job over the years, there would be no Yips at Yipton, and no problem now."
“Hmm. Julian spoke at length of the ‘democratic solution’."
“What he meant is entirely different from what you understood. The Conservationists want to resettle the Yips on another world, and maintain the Conservancy. The LPFers — they hate being called ‘Peefers’, though it is much easier, want to let the Yips loose on the mainland, where they would live, so it is claimed, in rustic simplicity, singing and dancing, and celebrating the passage of the seasons with quaint rites.”
“That is more or less what Julian implied.”
“Meanwhile the Peefers will annex vast estates of choice land for themselves, and become the new landed gentry. When they talk about this, they speak of 'public service' and 'duty' and 'administrative necessities.' But I've seen Julian's plans for the country house he hopes to build someday — using cheap Yip labor, of course."
"He used the word 'democracy' several times."
"He used the Peefer definition. Each Yip has one vote and each Conservationist has one vote. Ah well, enough of Julian. At least, I hope so.”
After dinner, the two went to the drawing room and settled themselves in front of the fire. "Now," said Pirie Tamm, “I will tell you something about the Counts de Flamanges. The family is very old — three or four thousand years, at least. Mirky Porod was built on the site of a medieval castle and for a time functioned as a hunting lodge. The place has a colorful history: the usual tumult of duels by moonlight, intrigues and betrayals, romantic escapades by the hundreds. Nor has there been any lack of the macabre. Prince Pust over a period of thirty years kidnapped maidens and did horrid deeds upon them; his victims numbered over two thousand and his imagination never flagged. Count Bodor one of the early Flamanges, conducted demoniac rituals, which ultimately became frenzies of the most fantastic sort. I derive this information from a book called UNUSUAL TALES FROM THE MOHOLC. The author tells us that the ghosts at Mirky Porod are therefore of dubious origin, and might derive either from the time of Prince Pust, or of Count Bodor, or possibly other circumstances now forgotten to history."
Wayness asked: "How long ago was this book written?"
"It seems to have been a relatively recent work. I could find it if you became interested in one or another of the cases."
“No. Don’t bother."
Pirie Tamm nodded placidly and went on with his remarks.
“In general, the Counts de Flamanges seem to have been of good character, save for the occasional bad hat like Count Bodor. A thousand years ago Count Sarbert was a founder of the Naturalist Society; the family has traditionally been associated with conservationist causes. Count Lesmund offered to donate a large tract of land to the Naturalist Society as a site for a new headquarters, but unfortunately: the plan came to naught. Count Raul was a member and strong supporter of the Society until his death some twenty years ago. Hus widow, the Countess Ottilie, now lives at Mirky Porod alone. She is childless, and the heir is Count Raul's nephew, Baron Trembath, whose estate is beside Lake Fon, and who operates an equestrian school.”
“Countess Ottilie, as I mentioned, lives in seclusion, seeing no one but doctors for herself and veterinaries for her dogs. She is said to be extremely avaricious, though she commands great wealth. There is a hint or two that she is, let us say, eccentric. When one of her dogs died, she beat the attending veterinary with her walking stick and drove him away. The veterinary seems to have been of philosophical disposition. When the journalists asked if he intended to sue, he merely shrugged and said that both beating and biting were accepted hazards of his profession, and there the matter rested.”
“Count Raul had been a generous contributor to Society a fact which the Countess bitterly resented.”
“Mirky Porod itself occupies a splendid site, at the head of a valley, with Lake Jerest only a few yards away. There are wild hills and dense forests at the back and forests to both right and left. It is not uncomfortably large; in fact, I made copies of photographs and the floor plan, if you are interested.”
“Very much so.”
Pirie Tamm gave her the material in an envelope. He spoke plaintively: “I wish I understood better what you have in mind. The Charter and Grant will never be found at Mirky Porod; that is certain."
“Why do you say that?"
“If these documents had come into the possession of Count Raul, he would certainly have turned them over to the Society.”
“So it would seem. Still, there are any number of possibilities why that should not be so. For instance, suppose he were ill when he received the documents and never found time to check them over? Or that these items were mislaid while he was sorting things out? Perhaps Countess Ottilie recognized their value and put them aside? Or, worse, them into the fire?”
“As you say, anything is possible. Still, Count Raul did not buy the material at Gohoons auction; there was a far larger volume of material, and if Countess Ottilie were giving away those relatively personal records, she surely must have included the other material. In other words, it was someone else who bought the Charter and Grant from Gohoon — which means that your searches are not leading you toward the Charter but away from it.”
"Not so,” said Wayness. “Imagine the Charter as resting in the rung of a ladder. We can find it either by starting at the top and working down, or starting at the bottom and working up."
“That is a fine analogy," said Pirie Tamm. “It’s only fault is unintelligibility.”
"In that case, I will explain again, but without the analogy. Nisfit stole the goods; they passed through
Mischap and Doorn to Gohoon, then to someone we must call A, Simonetta Clattuc learned the identity of A, but either she could not find him or he passed the material on to B, who might have given it to C, who sold it to D, who passed it on to E. Somewhere along this progression she has been brought to a halt. Let us say that the Funusti Museum is F and Count Raul de Flamanges E, then now we are looking for D. In other words, we must work backward along the line until we reach whoever has the Charter. Simonetta is starting from A, and seems to have met difficulties along the way. Then there is Julian, who is starting from X, which is to say, Aeolus Benefices at Croy. Where he goes from there I can't even guess. In any case, we have no time to delay, and Countess Ottilie may not choose to be helpful.”