The Dark Lady

last one, if I recall correctly, was Oscar.”
    “I am delighted to discover that you are willing to employ non-humans.”
    “As I believe I mentioned, their testimony is not allowed in Charlemagne's courts,” replied Heath. He paused. “Also, they work for less money than humans, and I'm continually trying to cut expenses— not that it ever does any good. I was brought up never to settle for second best, but no one thought to teach me how to afford the best. My professional life has been an endless round of trial and error.”
    “Obviously you haven't made too many errors,” I noted, “since you are still at large.”
    “Oh, I've made my share,” he answered easily. “But so have the police. You'd be surprised at how long it takes them to realize that someone in my position could be a thief. A stock-market swindler, a manipulator of government contracts, a buyer of political favors— these things are expected from a man of obvious wealth and breeding. But a thief in the night? It never seems to occur to them.”
    “Then why were you forced to hide in my suite?” I asked.
    “ Almost never,” he amended. “And of course by the time they catch me, the Morita will have already been placed with a person who has even less reason than I to make its possession a matter of public record, and then I'll be given a clean legal bill of health and a series of profuse apologies, and the police will wait even longer before suspecting me of the next theft.”
    “It seems very convenient,” I said disapprovingly.
    “To say nothing of illogical,” he added. “Consider the folly of arresting the typical disadvantaged underworld character for stealing a precious gem or a rare painting. I mean, he's barely able to pay for a clean shirt; how could he possibly be the man they're after? Whereas I require upward of half a million credits a month just to meet my basic expenses, and I have no visible means of support. If the police just looked at things logically, they'd round up every member of the idle rich and keep them all imprisoned without bail until the culprit confessed.”
    “It is a very interesting point of view,” I admitted.
    “And not without a basis in fact,” he continued. “I never worry about being robbed when I go out among the unwashed masses, whereas I always go armed to the teeth when traveling among my peers.” He turned to me. “Remember, Leonardo: The moment a man tells you that he has no need for money, grab your wallet and run.”
    “And what should I do if he tells me that he is a thief?”
    “We're all thieves,” he said with a smile. “I just happen to be an honest one.”
    “Is that not a contradiction in terms?” I asked.
    “Of course. Whoever said that a man can't be contradictory?” He looked out the window. “Ah! Here we are.”
    I reached for the door handle, but he gently grabbed my hand.
    “Not just yet,” he said. Then he activated an intercom switch. “Twice around the block, James.” He turned back to me. “If you don't mind, we'll take an extra minute or two to make sure we're not being followed and that the entrance to my building isn't under surveillance.”
    “And if it is?”
    “Then I'll disguise myself as a neighbor and take the painting out right under their noses.”
    “What if the real neighbor should make an appearance?” I asked.
    “You're looking at him,” said Heath with a smile.
    “I do not understand.”
    “I keep two apartments in the building. The one in the basement is rented in my own name, but the one on the sixth floor is leased by an elderly gentleman with a white beard and a very noticeable limp. He rarely emerges from his apartment, just often enough so that the neighbors can identify him.”
    “Am I to understand that you maintain two identities in Oceana?”
    “Three, actually,” he said. “It's a bother, but you never know when they'll come in handy.” He spoke into the intercom again. “That will do, James. Park about a block away after you let us out, and keep a watchful eye out for us.”
    The vehicle came to a stop, and we emerged into the warm, dry night air.
    “This way,” he said, leading me to the front door of a large steel and glass apartment complex.
    We entered a small foyer and waited for the security system to identify Heath.
    “Good evening, Mr. Heath,” said a metallic voice.
    “Good evening,” replied Heath.
    “You have a companion,” said the voice. “Please identify him.”
    “This is