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On the phone, I briefed Gumshoe on what he should attempt to get out of Milton, although he probably would have asked the right questions anyway. Gumshoe was a professional and almost certainly knew better than I what buttons to press to persuade a human to open up. It would be a few hours before he would be able to apply the metaphorical thumbscrews to Milton, so I wondered what I might do to advance the case in the meantime. Eventually, I decided there was some legal research I could catch up on. I walked the few blocks and took a couple of transit tubes to the downtown area, and thence to the Public Library. The Library was a grand old building with high stone walls and tall columns and high overlapping domes, a veritable fortress of learning, a stronghold against those who would misappropriate the lessons contained within. I spent a couple of hours in there, reviewing various tomes with some assistance from the Goblin librarian - a dried-up old stick of a spinster who looked accusingly at me of the top of her half-moon spectacles until I showed her my PI buzzer. Then, she suddenly turned into helpfulness personified: nothing was too much trouble for an officer of the law, or some close facsimile thereof. What I was in the library to research was the Federal Interest marker. I had heard something of the nomenclature before; I had a dim memory as a minor part of the very fine police training course that was wasted on me some years ago - indeed, quite a lot of years ago. But I needed a refresher, and what I revised was certainly of enormous interest. I made my way back to my office, my head in a whirl. I now knew clearly that the FI indicator in official reports - those of government bodies of various flavours, the police, medics and hospitals, and so on - indicates that the subject should be automatically regarded as above suspicion. Indeed, above the law. There must be no questioning, no detention, nothing to prevent the subject from going about their business, left alone to do what they must do without let or hindrance. Anybody encountering the Federal Interest mark was effectively instructed to refer any enquiries to the Office of Internal Security, a shadowy arm of government whose responsibilities were defined in the vaguest possible terms. I felt it was better not making enquiries with that Office, especially if I wanted to move around without constant surveillance for the rest of my life. It was not at all clear whether all this had any bearing on the case - both cases - I had so precipitously become engaged in. But I had a sneaking suspicion that it did have more than just a minor bearing. And I was more than ever convinced that what my dear brother Nether was telling me - or, more precisely, not telling me - was of vital importance.
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Part 58