Penny and Mr. Stab went walking through the grounds, down by the lake. The sky was very blue, the trees were bowing slightly under the urging of the gusting wind, and pure white swans sailed majestically over the dead-still waters of the lake. Penny made encouraging noises to them, but none of them would come close while she had Mr. Stab with her. The two of them walked on together, smiling and talking like old friends.
“So,” Penny said, “Did you have a good time, killing all the Loathly Ones?”
“Not really,” said Mr. Stab. “They didn’t die like people do. There was no real suffering, no horror in their eyes, and such things are meat and drink to me.”
“Was the whole thing as big a disaster as Harry keeps saying?”
“No,” said Mr. Stab after a thoughtful pause. “We stopped the Loathly Ones from bringing their unholy master through from Outside. Destroyed their tower, killed most of them, and scattered the others. Edwin came up with the plan that made that possible. If he hadn’t, if that Being had come through, that would have been a disaster, and the whole world would have paid for it. Humanity itself might have been wiped out . . . even me. It was an interesting sensation to find myself face to face with something worse than I am.”
“Do you still feel the need to kill?” Penny said abruptly. “Or are you . . . satisfied, now?”
“I still feel the need,” said Mr. Stab. “I always do.” He looked at her bluntly. “Why do you seek me out, Penny? You know what I am. What I do to women. Do you want me to do it to you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why, Penny?”
“No one’s ever as bad as they’re painted,” she said after a while.
“I am.”
“Perhaps. I’ve heard all the stories. But I wanted to meet the man behind the stories. Something . . . draws me to you.” Penny looked into his face, meeting his cold gaze unflinchingly. “Everyone can be saved. Everyone can be brought back into the light. I’ve always believed that.”
“What if they don’t want to be saved?”
“If that were true,” said Penny, “you would have broken your word to Molly by now. You live here with us, surrounded by temptation, but you do nothing. Molly said you were a good friend to her.”
“Molly believes . . . what she wants to believe,” said Mr. Stab.
“So do I,” said Penny. “Enough talk of dark and unpleasant things! Let me take your mind off such things, for a while.”
Mr. Stab nodded slowly. “Yes. You might be able to, at that.”
“I thought a picnic,” Penny said cheerfully. “I’ve got a hamper all set out, in that little grove over there. Shall we?”
“Why not?” said Mr. Stab. “It’s been a long time since I did anything so . . . civilised.”
“We need to get to know each other better,” said Penny. “How long has it been, since you could talk freely to anyone? How long since anyone would just sit and listen to you?”
“A long time,” said Mr. Stab. “I have been alone . . . a very long time.”
“I can’t keep calling you Mr. Stab,” said Penny. “Don’t you have a first name?”
He smiled. “Call me Jack.”
“Oh you,” said Penny.
And they walked on together, arm in arm.
I put the Merlin Glass away and headed for the front entrance at speed. I didn’t want Penny alone with Mr. Stab, far away from help. I didn’t think he’d dare hurt a Drood right in the shadow of Drood Hall, but . . . I hurried through the hallways and connecting rooms, and all the way my family drew back and gave me plenty of room. Some glared, some muttered, but none of them had anything to say to me. Just as well. I had nothing to say to them. When I finally got to the front entrance, Molly was there waiting for me, along with one familiar face and one strange one. She had them both in vicious ear holds, putting on just enough pressure to keep them both quiet and grimacing at her sides.
“Look what I found!” Molly said cheerfully. “Sneaking around in the grounds . . .”
“We were not sneaking!” protested the familiar face, with as much dignity as could be managed when someone is twisting your ear into a square knot. “We were just . . . taking our time about making our presence known.”
“Hello, Sebastian,” I said. “Been a while, hasn’t it, since you betrayed me to Manifest Destiny, and then tried to kill me. Who’s your wriggling friend?”
“Hold still!” snapped Molly. “Or I’ll rip them right off and make you eat them.”
“It’s all right, Molly,” I said soothingly. “You can let go now. Even a notorious thief and con man like Sebastian Drood has better sense than to start any trouble at Drood Hall. Right, Sebastian?”
“Of course, of course! Leave off, woman, before my ear is permanently malformed! I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Damn right you will,” growled Molly.
She let go, reluctantly, and Sebastian and his companion straightened up and felt gingerly at their reddened ears. Sebastian’s usual air of sophistication was in tatters, but he still looked very prosperous in his expertly cut suit, and in really good shape for a man in his sixties. Even if his thinning hair were obviously dyed.
“I am not just any old thief,” he said haughtily. “I am a gentleman burglar. I steal beautiful objects from people who don’t appreciate them, and pass them on to people who can. For a percentage. I only steal the very best, from the very best. I have standards.”
“How did you get into the grounds unnoticed?” I said. “We’ve completely reworked the Hall’s security systems since I came back. Alarms should have gone off all over the place the moment you even thought about breaking in.”
Sebastian gave me his best supercilious smile. “I am a professional burglar, old thing, and an expert in my craft. And I . . . called in a few old favours. You know how it is.”
“Not even remotely,” I said. “Enlighten me.”
“Do you tell me all your secrets? Suffice it to say it was a one-time deal, and highly unlikely to be repeated. And as to why I chose the less obvious way in, let’s just say I wasn’t entirely sure of my welcome. Given our past history. Your message to the rogues did say All sins forgiven, but I’m afraid I’ve grown terribly cynical in my time away from the family.”
“You have so many sins to be forgiven,” I said. “Including those against me and Molly. But don’t sweat it, Seb, just because you betrayed me to my enemies. We take that kind of thing for granted in the family, these days. But you seemed to be doing so well, out in the world . . . Why leave your little lap of luxury in Knightsbridge, after all these years? And don’t even mention the word duty; I know you, Seb.”
“I want my torc back,” Sebastian said flatly. “I’ve made too many enemies in my time to survive long without one.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “But if just one precious heirloom goes missing in the Hall while you’re here, I’ll know it was you. And I will have Molly turn you into something even more slimy than you already are.”
“Something truly viscous and oozy, with exposed eyeballs and testicles, ” Molly said gleefully. “I’ve been practicing.”
“And they say you can’t come home again,” said Sebastian. “This is exactly how I remember the family: coldly judgemental and extremely threatening. Worry not, Edwin, I’m not here to make waves. I just want my torc. Even if I have to, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, earn the damn thing.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said. “You’ll fit in nicely.”
“I understand you’re looking for tutors,” said Sebastian. “There are any number of useful tricks I could teach to the . . . more open-minded young Droods. Subjects and skills they probably never even dreamed of.”
“I should hope not,” I said. “Or they’d have been kicked out, just like you.”
Sebastian sniffed, hurt. “There isn’t an ounce of charity in you, is there, Edwin?”
“Not a bit,” I said. “I had it all removed surgically. Now; who’s your friend?”
“Oh, I’m Freddie Drood, darling!” said the young man on Molly’s other side. “Fabulous to meet you!”
Freddie was tall and dark and handsome, with coffee-coloured skin and close-cropped jet-black hair. He wore a snakeskin jacket over a silk shirt open to the navel, and Levi’s so tight he must have shrunk them on in the bath. He had mascaraed eyes, a bushy moustache, and a big, toothy grin.
“Freddie,” I said. “Can’t say the name rings a bell.”
“How unkind,” said Freddie, pouting. “I was absolutely notorious in my time, darling. But of late I found myself just a teensy bit financially embarrassed, so I teamed up with Sebbie here, as partners in crime. I got him into all the best parties, so he could case the joints, and then we came back later and robbed the poor dears blind.”
“And just why did the family find it necessary to kick you out?” I said.
“Oh, I’ve always been big and flamboyant and larger than life, honey,” said Freddie, throwing back his head and striking a dramatic pose. “I started out as a field agent, but once away from dreary family restraints, I just blossomed! I was practically a celeb, darling, and positively in demand for every little bash where the famous and infamous gathered. The family approved at first, because I picked up the most wonderful gossip about our putative lords and masters . . . But I just couldn’t bring myself to stay under the radar. I was getting noticed . . . so the family told me to come back home. I refused, and they cut me off without a penny. The heartless swine.
“Fortunately, I was already living with the first of a long line of sugar daddies, all of them quite prepared to keep me in the style to which I was determined to become accustomed, so for a long time it was just party, party, and let the good times roll! Until I made the mistake of trying to set up a little private income of my own, through a little discreet blackmail. The very first person I chose committed suicide, the poor dear, and left a very revealing letter behind. After that I was persona non grata in all the better circles, for ever such a long time. Which is how I ended up with Sebbie. I had a very large lifestyle to fund, darling: dancing and drinking and debauchery, all night long!”
“And what are you doing back here?” I said, when Freddie finally paused for breath.
“I really do need a torc, sweetie. There are just too many diseases out there these days. Don’t worry, I’m quite prepared to sing for my supper. A girl in my position does tend to hear things. I’m sure I can tell you all sorts of things you need to hear . . .”
“I’m sure you can,” I said. “All right; you both appal me beyond my ability to describe, but unfortunately, right now, you’re probably just what the family needs. Go on in and report to the Sarjeant-at-Arms, and find a way to make yourselves useful. Seb, I think we’ll keep you nice and busy with a series of lectures and tutorials. Like how to use a torc in illegal ways, for breaking and entering, and so on. Freddie, try to keep busy, and out of trouble.”
“Honey, I’ve never been that busy in my life,” said Freddie.
And with a wave and a wink, he sauntered off into the Hall, with Sebastian trailing dolefully after him.
“Was that wise?” said Molly. “One’ll get you ten they only came back to loot the Hall.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Hopefully the Sarjeant will keep them under his thumbs. It’s either that, or kill them. And we need the rogues to come home. We need their different viewpoints, knowledge, skills.”
“Even if it means welcoming back pond scum like Sebastian?”
“Everyone deserves a chance,” I said. “I need to believe . . . that anyone can be redeemed.”
At which point Freddie returned, without Sebastian. “I’ve just had a thought!” he said brightly. “As I understand it, the family has put out a call for all rogues to come home, but hardly any are taking up the offer. Am I right? Thought so, darlings. Quite understandable, I’m afraid. Not everyone trusts the new regime to be terribly different from the old one. But . . . I have been known to bump into all sorts of rogues in my time, in all sorts of interesting places. Some long forgotten, or even thought dead, by the family. How would it be . . . if I were to go out into the world, track these elusive fellows down, and use all my many charms to persuade them to come home? For a generous bounty on each head, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” I said. “Sounds good to me. Do well, and I guarantee you a new torc. Didn’t take you long to get tired of the old homestead, did it?”
“Honey, I’d forgotten just how oppressive the old pile is,” said Freddie. “I could never live here. It would just crush my spirit. I would wither, darlings, positively wither! I must have my freedom.”
“You’ve got it,” I said. “You can leave right now.”
“And the extent of the bounty?”
“Depends on who you can deliver,” I said. “You can find your own way out, can’t you?”
“I always do, honey,” said Freddie.
He sauntered off down the long gravel pathway, swaying his hips just that little bit more because he knew we were watching. Somehow I just knew Freddie was always happiest in front of an audience.
“Your family never ceases to amaze me,” said Molly.
“They can surprise me too, sometimes,” I said. “My own Inner Circle has turned against me, because you weren’t there to back me up.”
“Eddie, that’s not fair,” said Molly. “If you can’t control them, you certainly can’t expect me to.”
“I don’t want to control them,” I said. “Not as such. I just want the stupid bastards to understand that I’m right. I need them to believe that my way is the right way. Or everything I’ve done, to save the family’s soul, could be undone.”
“You don’t need me for that,” said Molly.
“Yes I do! I do need you, Molly. I’m . . . stronger, more confident, when you’re with me.”
Molly smiled and moved in close, putting her hands on my chest. “That’s very sweet, Eddie. But I can’t always be with you. I just can’t. Not here. Not in this place. I told you; I’m never going to fit in here. I belong in the wild. I’m beginning to think I made a mistake in coming here with you. I love you, Eddie, you know I do. You matter to me in a way no one else ever has. I want you, Eddie, but I don’t want all this.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her dark eyes deep and unfathomable. “You’re starting a war, Eddie. A war I’m not sure you can win. The Loathly Ones were bad enough, but that thing they were summoning? Major-league bad. I signed on to fight demons, not gods. You need to start with something smaller, more manageable. Like Manifest Destiny. Truman’s still out there, putting his nasty little organisation back together again. And this time he won’t have the Zero Tolerance people holding his reins and pulling him back. Start with him, Eddie. With a fight you can win.”
“I’ll consider it,” I said. “Now, please, come back inside. Be with me, if only for a while. I’m tired. I need to crash. Get some sleep, forget the world and its problems for a while. It’s going to be a hard day tomorrow.”
“Of course, sweetie. Come and lie down with me, and I’ll take all your cares away. And you can help me forget mine. But what’s so special about tomorrow? What’s happening then?”
“The funerals,” I said.
Next morning came round all too quickly, and the insistent clamour of a bullying alarm clock made sure Molly and I were up bright and early to greet the coming day. And all the pressures and problems it promised. Molly and I went down to breakfast in one of the big dining rooms. Rows and rows of tables covered with bright white cloths, a long sideboard with every kind of breakfast you could imagine, and huge windows looking out over the lawns. There were braised kidneys, and kedgeree, and even porridge, though you couldn’t get me to eat that stuff no matter how much salt you put on it.
I’m not really a morning person, never have been, and I’m not all that keen on breakfast, but this day of all days I needed to be seen, so that no one could accuse me of avoiding the funerals. My abse
nce would have been interpreted as an admission of guilt.
So I nursed a cup of strong black coffee while Molly tucked into a full fry up, complete with liver and mushrooms and more scrambled eggs than was good for her arteries. I’d never realised what a noisy eater she was, unless it was the terribly early hour. Everything sounds louder and more oppressive, first thing in the morning. There were a lot of other people around us, breakfasting and talking animatedly. None of them had anything to say to me, or Molly.
“Why are we up this early?” said Molly, attacking her mound of steaming scrambled eggs with quite appalling vigour.
“Funerals here are always held early in the morning,” I said. “It’s tradition. Probably for the best, this time; we’ve got a lot to get through. All the people I lost . . .”
“Don’t start,” Molly said sternly, threatening me with her fork. “None of what happened was your fault. If it was, I’d tell you. Loudly and violently and where everyone could hear me.”
I considered that. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“So, why are we holding the funerals so quickly? It’s not like they’re going to go off.”
“We don’t hang around, where funerals are concerned,” I said. “The family has too many enemies who might try to use our own dead against us.”
Molly chewed on a crispy bit of bacon, thoughtfully and thoroughly. “What kind of funeral does your family put on?”
“Oh, it’ll be a big ceremony,” I said. “My family has a ceremony established for practically everything. We’re very big on tradition. Helps discourage the rank and file from thinking for themselves. And I’ll have to make a speech, at the end. It’s expected of me.”
“What are you going to say?” said Molly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose I could throw myself on the family’s mercy . . .”
Molly shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”
After breakfast, I led Molly to the back of the main house and out through the huge French windows onto the long sloping lawns where the funeral was to be held. The coffins gleamed brightly in the early morning sun, rows and rows of them stretching away before us. All closed, of course, to hide the fact that most contained only parts of bodies, and some contained nothing at all. Two hundred and forty wooden boxes. I didn’t know we kept that many in stock. Or perhaps someone just used a duplication spell. Two hundred and forty fewer Droods, to stand between the world and all the evils in it.
Daemons Are Forever Page 22