Simon Green - Live and let Drood

I stopped there, surprised by a sudden rush of memories of the man that weren t all bad. I do miss him sometimes. He was harsh and arrogant and a royal pain in the arse but he did teach me an awful lot about how to be a field agent when I first came to London.

He was a creep, Molly said succinctly, and I had to smile.

Well, yes. I don t think anyone would argue with that, I said. But he was a very professional creep. You have to make allowances. He was family.

If I hear that bullshit one more time, Molly said ominously, there is going to be a very unfortunate incident. Right here and now. Shit is shit, whether you re related to it or not. Take my sisters

I d rather not, I said.

It was Molly s turn to smile. Lots of people say that. Wait a minute! I ve just had an idea!

Oh no, I said. That s never good.

When all this is over, why don t I join up with you, and we can be field agents in London together? We could patrol the streets, side by side. That should throw a scare into all the right people. And according to all the women s magazines I read, relationships work much better when you ve got shared interests in common.

I think London needs a regular field agent who s at least heard of diplomacy, I said carefully.

You re a fine one to talk!

True. But at least I can fake it when I have to. For you, diplomacy is just something you ve heard of that other people do.

I can fake it if I have to, Molly said darkly.

I d really rather not go there, I said.

Let us consider the external protections of the Establishment Club, before we go any further.

We both looked the club s exterior over carefully. My Sight immediately revealed that the whole front of the building was crawling with defence spells, and energy fields and layer upon layer of really heavy-duty protections. Intertwining and overlapping force shields and shimmering screens, with built-in weapons both magical and technological, along with all kinds of curses, bombs and booby traps. Some of the protections shone so brightly they almost blinded my inner eye. Just trying to make sense of the various patterns and structures made my head ache.

Okay, I said, after a while. Some of these defence systems are seriously old. Laid down centuries ago, going right back to Londinium times. Hell, some of them go back so far I ve only ever read about them in old books. To be honest, the word overkill is coming to mind. Even Buckingham Palace doesn t have some of the orders of protection I m Seeing here. Layers upon layers, supporting and reinforcing one another. Something this intricate doesn t just happen. This was planned.

Can you break through it? Molly said bluntly.

Is your new armour up to it?

Maybe. Eventually. But not without drawing a lot of attention and probably the arrival of major reinforcements.

The Regent did say Crow Lee had his own private army.

Well, yes, but I doubt he brings them with him when he comes to visit his club. He d expect the club to protect him. Probably has his own bodyguard, though.

Hah! said Molly. I laugh in the face of bodyguards! And then I do really awful things to them and make them cry for their mothers.

I know, I said. I ve seen you do it. Let us try the straightforward way first.

I nodded significantly at the doorman, who was still standing stiffly at attention before the club s doorway, pretending he wasn t giving his full attention to every word we were saying.

Ah! Molly said happily. The old way! The bullying and intimidation of stuck-up flunkies! Oh, Eddie, you re so good to me.

Yes, I am, I said. And don t you forget it.

I get to go first!

Of course.

Molly strode up to the doorman so she could glare right into his face. Though she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. He met her gaze levelly, giving every indication of being entirely unmoved. Which was, of course, the worst thing he could have done. Molly will stand for a lot of things, but being ignored definitely isn t one of them.

We are coming in, Molly said firmly. That can be past you, or over your beaten and broken body. It s up to you. Guess which I d prefer.

No trainers, said the doorman. And definitely no witches that don t know their place. No entrance here ever, unless you re a member in good standing, which you aren t and never will be. Now piss off, girlie, or I ll set the hellhounds on you.

You haven t got any hellhounds, said Molly, grinning really quite unpleasantly. I d know. So get the hell out of my way, or I ll turn you into a small squishy thing with your testicles floating on the top.

The doorman lowered himself to sneer at her. I hear worse than that from the members every day if I don t move fast enough. You can t touch me; I m protected by the club. Now get out of my sight, before I make you cry.

I stepped forward then to stand beside Molly. You try to be nice to people, but then they have to go and cross the line. No one threatens my Molly and gets away with it. So stand aside, Uniformed Flunky with an Unfortunate Attitude, or I ll rip your dickey off.

Eddie! said Molly, amused but just a bit shocked.

Not in public

A dickey, I explained patiently, is another name for the bow tie.

Ah, said Molly. I hadn t noticed he was wearing one. Now, that is distinctly unappealing. Downright ugly, in fact.

Bow ties are cool, I said. The Travelling Doctor said so.

And he should know, said Molly. He s been around. Mr. Doorman isn t moving, Eddie. Feel free to do your very worst.

I armoured up my right hand, grabbed a handful of the doorman s starched shirtfront and ripped it right off him. Along with his waistcoat and his dickey. The doorman stood there, bare-chested, and gaped at my golden gauntlet. He seemed to shrink in on himself just a little.

Oh, fuck. You re a Drood.

Language, Jeeves, said Molly, highly amused.

I dropped the wreckage of his shirtfront onto the pavement, and held up my golden fist before his face, so he could get a good look at it.

Who are you people? said the doorman. He was deeply upset. I could tell.

I am Eddie Drood, and this delightful yet dangerous young lady is Molly Metcalf, I said just a bit grandly.

A Drood and a Metcalf sister? Oh, shit, said the doorman miserably. I m going home early.

I would, I said.

The doorman turned and ran back into the club, leaving the door standing half-open. His voice gradually faded away as he receded into the club s interior, calling for help and protection. It was nice to know my name still meant something. And Molly s, too, of course.

The protections are still in place, Molly observed pointedly.

So they are, I said. Good for them. And good for us that I have this.

And I held up the skeleton key Patrick had given me. Just a yellowed piece of human bone, carved into a universal key, that could unlock anything. Including some things that were only technically or symbolic locks. I leaned carefully forward and eased the bone key into the door s keyhole. It didn t want to go in, but some applied pressure from my golden hand did the job. And it really didn t want to turn, either, until my golden gauntlet provided the necessary motivation. And then all the protections just disappeared, gone in a moment. I carefully retrieved the bone key and tucked it away about my person.

Definitely knows his stuff, I said to Molly.

All right, don t make a big deal out of it, she said with a sniff. I was learning how to carve skeleton keys while you were still learning how to pick the lock on the Drood tuckshop.

Trust me, I said. Drood Hall has never possessed any such thing.

Don t interrupt me when I m on a roll. Come on. Let s get in there and make some trouble before they get a reception committee organised.

I kicked the front door all the way open and strode inside with Molly sauntering along at my side. It s important to make the right kind of entrance on these sort of occasions. A wide-open hallway fell away before us, discreetly lit and completely empty. There were heavily wood-panelled walls, in the old style, that looked like they could stop cannonballs, plus a parquet floor and a whole bunch of tall potted plants of an almost primordial nature.