From a Drood to A Kill: A Secret Histories Novel

by Simon R. Green

“More than my fair share,” I said. “More than enough.”

  The Matriarch looked at Molly.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Molly. “I haven’t changed my mind. He’s the moral one here.”

  “This case calls for an agent’s skills,” the Matriarch said carefully. “Nothing more.”

  “All right,” I said. “Give me the details.”

  “Then you’ll do it?”

  “Give me the details.”

  “The Prime Minister made contact with the family, earlier this morning,” said the Matriarch. “Begging for our help. World leaders might like to boast to each other that they’re free from Drood influence these days, but they still know who to run to when it all goes pear-shaped. Ethel, be so good as to play back the recording of my conversation with the Prime Minister.”

  “Hold everything,” I said. “Ethel, since when have you been recording conversations inside Drood Hall?”

  “Welcome back, Eddie! I knew it had to be you, once I heard all the alarms. This place is always so much more fun when you’re around. Run the question by me again. I must have missed something. Why shouldn’t I be recording conversations?”

  “You’ve been recording everything?” I said pointedly.

  “Well, not everything. Just the important things, that the Matriarch wanted an official record of, for the family files. I have eyes and ears everywhere, after all, and infinite capacity, so . . .”

  “We are only talking about things that take place in a public setting,” said the Matriarch.

  “I haven’t forgotten all those long, boring lectures of yours, about respecting people’s privacy, Eddie. Even if no one has properly explained the concept to me yet. Or what it’s for.”

  “Show me the recording,” I said. “But we will be talking more about this later.”

  “Oh joy. Wildly looking forward to it. I’ll bring popcorn.”

  A vision appeared, floating on the air before us like a disembodied monitor screen. I didn’t ask Ethel how she was doing it. On the few occasions when I have been unwise enough to ask questions like that, I’ve rarely understood the answer. And when I have, I’ve usually ended up wishing I hadn’t. She is an other-dimensional entity, after all, a Power from Beyond. That’s all I need to know. Though I would quite like to understand exactly why Ethel has chosen to stick around here, in our limited reality, just to be near my family.

  One side of the vision showed the Matriarch sitting calmly behind her desk, in her office, while the other showed the Prime Minister sitting at his desk in his office. She seemed entirely relaxed; he didn’t. The Prime Minister was trying hard to look like a man of High Office and a World Leader, but he couldn’t seem to meet the Matriarch’s steady gaze for more than a few moments at a time. I got the feeling he was more distressed about the situation he was in than about having to beg the Droods for help. Something had seriously upset the man. And not just because he must know that if we did agree to help him out, he was going to have to pay a high price for it in the future. The Prime Minister started speaking, and I listened carefully.

  “You have to do something!” said the Prime Minister. “Important secret information is being leaked from our most secure listening centre.”

  “I take it we’re talking about one of those places where the Government spies on people who’d be very upset if they ever found out they were being listened to,” said the Matriarch.

  “Well, quite,” said the Prime Minister. “The majority of the information being leaked from this particular station is of a highly sensitive nature, and it seems clear that only a very important person could be doing it. Because only that sort of person would have access to this level of classified data. We need a Drood agent to go in undercover, find out what’s going on, and put an immediate stop to it.”

  The Matriarch smiled, briefly. “I think we can arrange that. Which particular listening centre are we talking about?”

  “The very latest, and most important,” the Prime Minister said quickly. “The most up-to-date establishment in the country. We spent a great deal of money on Lark Hill. We can’t afford for it to fail so soon. It’s our most wide-ranging eavesdropping operation, unofficially called the Big Ear. Their purpose is to monitor all forms of communication. They have a new extremely powerful and most secret device that allows them to listen in on absolutely everything without being detected. Phones, e-mails, computers—everything! Nothing is safe from this new device. The Big Ear is officially tasked and licensed to listen to everyone. Public and private, no exceptions. Including, of course, the most secret and secure information from every kind of source.”

  “No wonder you came to us,” said the Matriarch. “If the people of this country find out that you’ve been spying on them . . .”

  “It’s for their own good,” said the Prime Minister. “For their own protection.”

  “They might not see it that way.”

  “Which is why they must never know.” The Prime Minister tried a knowing smile, but quickly let it drop when he realised it wasn’t working. “We need a Drood field agent to go in and investigate the situation inside the Big Ear, because we can’t trust anyone inside the centre and we can’t call on anyone from the usual security organisations. Because they’re not supposed to know the Big Ear even exists. We need to know if someone inside Lark Hill is selling secrets for money, or politics, or for what they think is a higher morality. The last thing we need is for this kind of information to show up on WikiLeaks! God save us from well-meaning people . . .”

  “And,” said the Matriarch, “you’re worried about this new device of yours.”

  “Of course we’re worried about the new device!” said the Prime Minister. “Sorry! Sorry . . . Didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I’m really very concerned. If some disaffected person has gained access to it . . .”

  “If we agree to do this,” said the Matriarch, cutting firmly across his carefully rehearsed speech, “you will agree to owe us. I will tell you what and I will tell you when. And you don’t get to whine about it.”

  The Prime Minister nodded immediately, trying his knowing smile again. “Of course! Understood. Yes. I’ll leave it to you to sort out the details, shall I . . .”

  The Matriarch cut off the connection; and the vision disappeared from the rose-red air.

  “He expects this to go wrong,” I said. “He wants someone from outside in the frame, to lay the blame on.”

  “Of course,” said the Matriarch. “He’s a politician. But I need you to do this, Eddie. Partly because we need the present administration to owe us a favour, something we can hold over them in the future—and partly because I want to know more about this new eavesdropping device they have that can do so much. They shouldn’t have access to anything that powerful.”

  “Why do you want me specifically?” I said.

  “Because you are not officially part of this family at present. Everyone knows you’re affiliated with the Department of Uncanny. Which should make it just that little bit harder for the mud to stick, if it starts flying. If . . .”

  “If what?” said Molly.

  “If I knew that, I could send one of my own people,” said the Matriarch. “There’s clearly something going on at the Big Ear that the Prime Minister isn’t telling us, so . . . go in and sort it out, Eddie. Do whatever you have to, to get to the heart of things and put this right. While doing your very best to keep the family out of the line of fire. I’ve already made arrangements with the Armourer to sort you out a suitable cover identity with all the proper paperwork. You can go in as a security consultant from some real but minor organisation that won’t even know its identity has been hijacked until it’s too late. Do this favour for the family, Eddie . . . and you’ll get what you want.”

  Molly looked at her suspiciously. “You couldn’t have known Eddie was going to turn up here today. What would you have
done if he hadn’t been available?”

  “I do have other off-the-books field agents,” said the Matriarch. “Any number of them could handle an assignment like this. But . . . none with your experience, Eddie. Just in case it becomes necessary for you to do something . . . drastic. And, Eddie, you have to do this on your own. You can’t take Molly with you. The Prime Minister would have a shit-fit if he even thought the notorious Wild Witch was anywhere near his precious new listening centre.”

  Molly sniggered loudly. “They’ve probably got special security in place just to detect my presence. Lots of places have. All right, I get it. You’re on your own, Eddie. But you will tell me all about it afterwards, won’t you? If you know what’s good for you.”

  “Ah, the joys of a continuing relationship,” I said. “So, I can go in as an expert supplied by British Security. A term vague enough to cover a multitude of sins, while still being sufficiently impressive and intimidating. As long as I appear to have all the proper clearances, and the implied authority that goes with them, no one at Lark Hill will challenge me. The Prime Minister will have informed them by now to expect someone. I’ll just tell them I’m there to check their internal and external security measures, make sure they’re up to regulations. There’s always someone checking something.”

  “Remember, no one at the Big Ear is to even suspect we’re interested,” said the Matriarch. “We don’t want the leak to take fright and run before we know how much damage they’ve done, and who they’ve talked to.”

  “Teach your grandmother to juggle eggs,” I said. “Now, what did the Prime Minister tell you that you’re not telling me? What makes the Big Ear so important to us, that we need to get involved?”

  The Matriarch chose her words carefully. “Officially, the Big Ear was created to spy on terrorists, but really it’s there to spy on people. All the people, all the time. So the Government can know what they’re doing, what they’re talking about, and what they’re planning . . . so those in power can stop any trouble before it can get started.”

  “Trouble?” said Molly, frowning darkly.

  “Anything that might make trouble for the Government,” said the Matriarch.

  “Listening to everyone, public and private?” I said. “Is that even legal?”

  “If the Government does it, it must be legal,” said the Matriarch. “They make the laws.”

  “And we don’t like Governments that get above themselves,” I said.

  “No,” said the Matriarch. “We don’t. But I’m more interested in this marvellous new device they have that allows them to listen in on absolutely everything. Even we don’t have anything that wide-ranging. I need to know what this device is, Eddie, and where they got it. In case we decide they can’t be trusted with it. At the very least, I expect you to come back with a full set of plans so the Armourer can duplicate it.”

  I looked at her thoughtfully. “This new Prime Minister is a bit frisky, isn’t he? Contacting you directly out of the blue and asking for a favour? There used to be whole layers of protocol for people like that to go through before they got to you.”

  “In the old days, he wouldn’t have dared,” the Matriarch agreed. “But things have changed. You changed them. As long as he’s still sufficiently respectful, and scared, I’ll settle for that.”

  “What,” I said carefully, “are my instructions for this mission? Exactly?”

  “Find out the source of the problem,” said the Matriarch, just as carefully. “And then do whatever you feel necessary to bring the situation to a close.”

  “Ah, good,” I said. “Nothing at all ambiguous there. But remember, I won’t kill.”

  “I’m not asking you to kill,” said the Matriarch. “Just asking you to spy.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll take the case. As a favour to you. But this is conditional on your agreeing that the family will use all its resources to locate my mother and father.”

  The Matriarch nodded quickly. “Agreed. We will find them, Eddie. Wherever they are. After all, no one can hide from us.”

  “Charles and Emily have managed pretty well so far,” said Molly.

  “Only because we didn’t really care,” said the Matriarch. “But I have a condition of my own, Eddie. And I’m afraid I’m not in a position to negotiate about this. Before you leave on your mission you must hand over the Merlin Glass, into the family’s keeping.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  The Matriarch looked at me. “What?”

  “I’d already decided to give the Glass to the Armourer,” I said. “The damned thing’s been acting up so much recently, it’s no use to me any more.”

  “You’re being very reasonable,” said the Matriarch, clearly looking for the catch, and disturbed because she couldn’t see it.

  “I am being reasonable,” I said, “so that you will be reasonable. Don’t give me reason to regret it.”

  Molly came forward to stand before me. She planted both fists on her hips and glared right into my face. “That’s it? After all we went through to break you free from your family so we could make a life together? You’re ready to go back and work for them again?”

  “Only because I have to,” I said. “To get what I want.”

  “Give me time and I’ll find your parents!” said Molly. “I have resources your family never even dreamed of. People will talk to me who would never talk to them!”

  “I’m not sure my mother and father have time,” I said. “They’ve been gone too long. No arguments, Molly. I’ve made up my mind.”

  She sniffed loudly. “That’s what you think. There will be words, later.”

  “I’m sure there will,” I said.

  The Matriarch started to say something. Molly and I both looked at her, and she thought better of it.

  “I’ll go see the Armourer,” I said. “You can ask me one more question before I go, Matriarch. Because I’m feeling generous.”

  “You do still have the black box, don’t you?” said the Matriarch.

  “I know where it is,” I said.

  “What’s inside the box?” said the Matriarch.

  “Sorry,” I said. “That’s two questions.”

  “You’re keeping the box so you can always come back and take control of the family,” said the Matriarch. “If you ever decide you disapprove of what we’re doing.”

  “I’d rather not,” I said. “Been there, done that, and hated every moment of it. I don’t ever want to be Patriarch again—unless you make me.”

  “So I only get to be in charge as long as I keep making decisions you agree with?” said the Matriarch.

  “Think of me as your conscience,” I said. “With a really big stick. Because, God knows, this family needs one.”

  “Who gave you the right to sit in judgement on us?” said the Matriarch.

  “Ask my parents,” I said. “Or Molly’s.”

  * * *

  I left the Sanctity, with Molly at my side. Ethel called out a cheerful good-bye and closed the doors firmly behind us. I looked quickly down the corridor, but it was still empty. Molly and I both let out a long sigh of relief, grinned at each other, and strolled off arm-in-arm.

  “I thought that went rather well,” said Molly. “I told you that you’d have to make some kind of agreement with the Matriarch to get what you wanted. In fact, I think you got off lightly.”

  “Just the one case, and a simple investigation at that?” I said. “Very lightly.”

  “I don’t think I approve of this Big Ear listening centre,” said Molly.

  “You’re right,” I said. “Only Droods can be trusted with that kind of power. Because we don’t care what people think. It’s probably for the best that I’m taking this case; I’ll be able to find out what’s really going on in there. And shut the whole place down, if necessary, just on general principles.” />
  “What kind of amazing new device could they have that could do so much?” said Molly. “I mean, listen in on everyone, simultaneously?”

  “Could be recovered alien tech,” I said. “Black Heir has a long history of cleaning up things left behind after unauthorized close encounters. There’s always the possibility they made a present to the Prime Minister of something they shouldn’t have so they could get first shot at taking over the Department of Uncanny.”

  “Vultures,” said Molly.

  “It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to clean up the trash,” I said. “Still, you’re not wrong; there’s a limit to just how much reverse-engineered alien tech we can allow out in the world. Which could be just the excuse I need to pull the plug on Lark Hill.”

  “If you don’t, I will,” said Molly. “I will go there myself and hit the Big Ear with shaped curses, high explosives, and general insurrection.”

  “For you subtlety is just something other people do, isn’t it?” I said.

  “I’m really not keen on you working this case alone,” said Molly. “You need me with you, to watch your back and keep you grounded. Especially in morally dubious places like the Big Ear. You know they always design that kind of building in a circle, so everyone can stab each other in the back at the same time. Watch yourself, Eddie. They’ll all have something to hide, and really good excuses to keep you away from what you need to see, in the name of protecting their own territory.”

  “I did spend several quite successful years working as the Drood field agent in London,” I said. “Long before I ever teamed up with you. I think I can manage just the one case on my own.”

  “Those were the good days, back then,” said Molly.

  “When we weren’t trying to kill each other,” I said. “For being on a whole bunch of different sides.”

  “Ah yes,” said Molly. “Spies and secrets and lashings of violence. Happy times.”

  We shared a smile.

  “So,” I said, “what will you be doing while I’m gone? And please tell me it won’t involve shaped curses, high explosives, and general insurrection.”