Simon Green - Property of a Lady Faire

“You wouldn’t like them, Molly,” I said. “Swan meat is actually pretty bland and greasy. We have to supplement their feed with a special kind of corn just to make them palatable. Like the Royal swan-keepers do.”

Molly looked at me. “Didn’t I read somewhere that only the Royal family are allowed to eat swan?”

“We have a special dispensation,” I said.

“The Queen told you that you could eat swan?”

“No, we told her that we could eat swan.”

“I’ve had enough of this lake,” said Molly. “And the swans. Let’s go somewhere else, Eddie.”

• • •

We strolled through the grounds together, heading for a pleasantly shady copse of elm trees. It all seemed very calm and peaceful, but long experience had taught me that you can’t trust anything at Drood Hall to be what it appears to be.

“You should be more careful,” I said. “Antagonising swans is never a good idea. Powerful creatures, you know. A swan can break your arm. If it’s got a crowbar.”

Molly laughed, despite herself. “I couldn’t stay in the Hall,” she said. “Far too dark and gloomy. And claustrophobic. And far too many people looking at me.”

“Looking down their noses, perhaps?” I said. “Like the swans?”

“So,” Molly said brightly, in her best I am changing the subject now and you’d better go along voice. “How was the family?”

“Much as usual,” I said.

“Bad as that, eh?” said Molly.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been banished again. Go, and never darken our doorstop-the whole bit.”

“They should know by now,” said Molly. “That never works. So, what did your grandmother leave you in her will? Was it money?”

“No,” I said. “She just left me a keepsake. Something to remind me of the kind of person she was.”

Molly waited until she was sure I had nothing more to say, and then she said, almost casually, “Have you finished your business here?”

“Yes,” I said. “Nothing to hold me here now. It’s time for us to go visit the Department of Uncanny, and have our long-delayed little chat with the Regent of Shadows. My grandfather, Arthur Drood.”

“Good,” said Molly. “I could use cheering up. I am just in the mood for some serious violence and extreme property damage.”

“Never knew you when you weren’t,” I said.

“Flatterer,” said Molly.

“We are going to try talking first,” I said firmly. “If communications break down, then we move on to more distressing measures of persuasion.”

“Wimp,” said Molly.

“The Regent didn’t just decide to kill your parents on his own,” I said carefully. “Someone ordered him to do it. Some specific person, inside my family, condemned your parents to death, for reasons of their own.”

“The Matriarch,” said Molly.

“Not necessarily,” I said. “There have always been advisers and Councils and powers behind the throne, in the Droods. Not to mention wheels within wheels, and departments that don’t officially exist. In a family as big as mine there’s room for pretty much everything. And the Droods have a long history of using outside agents to do the really dirty and deniable stuff.”

Molly shot me a look. “So whoever made the decision, and gave the Regent his orders, might still be a person of importance in your family? And not necessarily one of the obvious ones?”

“Could be,” I said.

“I will have my revenge on someone,” said Molly.

“It could be any number of people!” I said. “That’s the point! That’s why we need to talk to the Regent, to get the full story. He was just the weapon; someone else pointed him at your parents.”

“They’re just as guilty,” said Molly.

“I know,” I said. “I’m just trying to say . . . it’s complicated.”

“You want it to be complicated, so I won’t kill your grandfather,” said Molly. “I’ll listen, if he’s ready to talk. I want to know everything. But what if he doesn’t want to talk?”

“I won’t let you kill him,” I said carefully. “I can’t let you do that. But I think we are quite definitely entitled to intimidate the hell out of him, should it prove necessary.”

“You think it won’t?” said Molly.

“He sent us to Trammell Island, expecting the truth to come out,” I said. “He wanted us to know. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell us in person. Now we know . . . I think he’ll tell us the rest. I think he wants to.”

“But if he doesn’t?” insisted Molly.

“Look, we can’t hurt him anyway!” I said. “He’s got Kayleigh’s Eye, remember? As long as he’s wearing that amulet he’s invulnerable to all forms of attack. And that very definitely includes your magic, and my armour.”

Molly started to say something, and then stopped, and looked at me. “What, or who, is Kayleigh? Do you know?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” I said. “I’ve heard of it, because . . . well, I’ve at least heard of most things. Comes with the job, and the territory. But I haven’t a clue where the Eye comes from.”

“God, demon, alien?” said Molly.

“Almost certainly in there somewhere,” I said.

“I can always threaten to blow up the whole building,” said Molly.

I looked at her. “For you, restraint is just something other people do, isn’t it?”

She smiled at me dazzlingly. “I have always believed in extremes and excesses. Why settle for less?”

I took the Merlin Glass out again, and muttered the proper activating words to establish communication with the Department of Uncanny. Molly clapped a hand on my arm.

“Hold it! Are you really going to tell them we’re coming? And throw away the whole element-of-surprise bit?”

“We need to be sure he’s at home,” I said. “I don’t want to turn up there and find him gone. I don’t think he’d make us chase him, but . . . I think his first reactions will tell us a lot about how this is going to go.”

“Good point,” said Molly. “Go on, then. Get on with it.”

But when I looked into the hand mirror, no one was there. No reflection, no contact; the Glass was just full of an endless, buzzing static. Which was . . . unusual. I lowered the Glass, and looked at Molly.

“That’s never happened before.”

“Could they be blocking us?” said Molly. “If the Regent has decided he’s not going to talk to us, and that as far as he’s concerned we’re now both persona non grata . . . the whole Department could be hiding behind heavy-duty security shields.”

“The Regent wouldn’t hide behind his own people,” I said. “At the very least, he’d have left us a message. Some kind of explanation. No . . . Something’s wrong at Uncanny. Get ready. We’re going through.”

I had the Merlin Glass lock onto the Department’s coordinates, and it jumped out of my hand, growing rapidly in size to make a door big enough to walk through. I led the way, with Molly treading close on my heels, leaving Drood Hall and its grounds behind.

• • •

I expected to arrive in London, in the shadow of Big Ben, overlooking the Department of Uncanny’s hidden entrance. Instead, Molly and I arrived inside the Department itself, in the waiting room, which shouldn’t have been possible. Normally you have to pass through all kinds of shields and protections.

The smell hit me first. The unpleasant coppery smell of freshly spilled blood. The Merlin Glass shrank back down without having to be told, diving back into my pocket. I barely noticed. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

The last time Molly and I had been here, the waiting room had been a cheerful, cosy place. Flowers in vases, pleasant paintings on brightly painted walls, even a deep shag pile carpet. But now, the whole place had been trashed. The flower vases had been smashed, the paintings ripped from the walls and reduced to shreds and tatters, and all the furniture torn to pieces. And there was blood everywhere, splashed across the walls and soaked into the carpet. No bodies, just blood. It looked like a bomb had gone off in an abattoir.