The Dark Lady

Blue Dragon in his act.”
    “A Blue Dragon?” repeated Heath. “I've never heard of it.”
    “It's a reptile the size of a small house from somewhere out on the Rim— and he actually climbed right into its mouth! I mean, the goddamned thing could have swallowed him whole! I never saw anything like it in my life.” He paused for a moment, and opened his eyes again. “When the show was over, I waited around to tell him how much I enjoyed his act. Evidently I wasn't the only one, because the police had cordoned off a walkway for him from the tent to his vehicle, and when he finally came out, he had her on his arm.”
    “The Dark Lady?” asked Heath.
    Venzia nodded. “I was flabbergasted. I mean, here was the flesh and blood embodiment of what I had thought was an hallucination. She was identical in every detail.”
    “Did you speak to her?” I asked.
    “The police wouldn't let me get near them.” He looked up suddenly. “I'll have another drink now, if you don't mind.”
    “Now?” demanded Heath, obviously annoyed that Venzia's story had come to a halt.
    “Yes, please.”
    Heath grimaced, got up, walked to the bar, quickly mixed the drink, and returned with it. The entire process took perhaps forty seconds.
    “Okay, go on with it,” said Heath. “When did you finally get to speak to her?”
    “Never,” said Venzia.
    “That's it?” exclaimed Heath unbelievingly. “That's the whole story?”
    “That's just the beginning,” answered Venzia. “I didn't know who or what she was then.”
    “And now you do?”
    “Yes,” said Venzia. “I went back the next night in the hope of meeting her. It wasn't romantic or obsessive or anything like that. I just wanted to relate my experience to her.” He shrugged helplessly. “I don't even know why.”
    “So you went back the next night... ” prompted Heath.
    Venzia nodded. “I went back the next night,” he repeated, his face twitching again, “and the animal tamer climbed into the Blue Dragon's mouth, and the Blue Dragon closed it, just like he'd done the night before— but this time there was a terrible crunching sound, and when the Dragon opened its mouth again, it was empty.” Venzia stopped speaking and drained his glass.
    “It sounds horrible!” I said.
    “It was horrible,” he agreed. “I stayed after the show to offer my sympathies to the woman, but I couldn't find her. I asked around the next day, and no one had seen her since the end of the performance.” He paused. “She never showed up again, and when the circus left Declan IV, it left without her. I still believed that people didn't just vanish into thin air, and since I knew she hadn't left Declan, I hired a detective agency to find her. They never did.”
    “ I believe she vanished from my ship, but you shouldn't have,” said Heath. “Not based on what you've told us so far. It would have made more sense to assume she simply left the planet before you hired the detective. Declan IV's a pretty busy world; there must be ships coming and going every few minutes.”
    “That's precisely what I assumed,” answered Venzia. “I thought it was an odd coincidence, and that her disappearance was a little strange, but that was all.” He exhaled deeply. “Until I saw a painting of her go up for sale in an estate auction.” He turned to me. “Malcolm Abercrombie bought it. It's the one by Justin Craig.”
    “That must have surprised you,” I said.
    “Why?” asked Heath sharply.
    “Because Justin Craig died in the Battle of Genovaith IV almost thirteen hundred years ago,” I replied.
    “I found three biographies of him,” continued Venzia. “Two made no mention of any woman in his life, but the third one mentioned a dark-haired woman who seemed to be his constant companion during the last two weeks of his life, and vanished mysteriously as soon as he was killed.” He paused. “Just as she had done with the animal tamer,” he added meaningfully.
    “But he didn't paint her,” noted Heath.
    “Why should he?” asked Venzia. “He didn't know the first damned thing about painting.”
    “Excuse me, Friend Reuben,” I said. “But are you telling us that not everyone who has seen her has painted her?”
    “Of course they haven't,” replied Venzia. “Hell, did everyone who saw her on Acheron run right out and buy a paintbrush and easel?”
    “No,” I answered, surprised that I had overlooked so obvious a fact. “No, they didn't.”
    “Anyway, I spent the next