Zitts eyed the round arm with interest. "Elementary," he said. "People are always wanting me to investigate something, and they always try to palm off that trash called gold. They never offer anything worthwhile, such as a dozen genuine bacteria for my collection, or a scuttle of coal--that almost priceless black stuff from which so many things are made. Ever seen any coal?" The woman shook her head, swinging the shoulder-length blonde hair from side to side, and her deep blue eyes opened wide in wonder. "Heard of it. Glossy ebon substance of which ornaments are made. A princess on Mars is said to own a chunk of it as big as my thumb, set in a pendant. It was captured in the Martian war with Saturn." "It's probably a phony," Zitts pointed out. "The Martians are too smart to let a woman wear that precious stuff. A piece that big could be made into the nucleus of a webbing which would trap enough sunlight and moisture from the orbit of Mars to turn every sandy plain on that planet into fertile land." The subject seemed beyond the grasp of the woman. "But you haven't told me," she said softly, "how you knew it was my husband's death, not something else." Zitts turned slightly in his chair. The turning itself seemed to serve as a signal. The door on his right opened noiselessly and a dusky Venusian female glided into the room, came and sat down on a seat which was remarkably like a man's knee. "My confidential secretary," Zitts said by way of introduction. "Miss Xuren Claustinkelwickwellopiandusselkuck. I streamline that a bit and call her Zoo. Zoo, this is Mrs. Elmer-Brown Jake-Smith." "What?" The blonde woman's eyes snapped from Zoo to Zitts. "How did you know my name? And how did you know I had two husbands?" "One husband," Zitts corrected. "Mr. Jake-Smith was done to death in some mysterious manner yesterday morning at daylight just as he was going to bed for the day. But you're still entitled to both names, having been legally wed to both men. The beyondlaws, I believe, are bidding Elmer-Brown." "Beyondlaws? Isn't that an outmoded term? Its meaning has slipped me." "Outmoded, yes, but still appropriate. Coined to replace the term congressmen. They once made the laws, I believe, but they were beyond the laws themselves. Then the people got stirred up and demoted them to ratcatchers and put responsible men in their places. They worked up from ratcatchers to jobs then known as policemen. The term ratcatchers stuck, but it seems more dignified to call them beyondlaws. These people are holding your other husband, leaving you husbandless. But that shouldn't be so bad. With your shape you ought to be able to snare a hundred husbands." * * * * * The woman dropped her eyes and blushed. "You shouldn't flatter a poor widow at a time like this," she said coyly. "But how do you know all these things about me?" Zitts turned to the Venusian. "Show her, Zoo," he said.