“Maybe,” said Monk, after a look at Sir Alec. “That restricted equipment Aylebsury said they were trying to get their hands on? There’s a good chance it would’ve helped them make good on their side of the bargain.”
“Or at the very least advanced their cause far past the point where I, and Sir Ralph, and any number of other concerned parties would be comfortable,” said Sir Alec. He gave Bibbie a small nod. “So now it seems we are in debt to both of your brothers, Miss Markham.”
“So… what?” said Melissande, frowning. “After the near-disaster at the bridge they decided Harenstein couldn’t be trusted to succeed?”
Sir Alec sat back. “Certainly that’s one explanation. But I don’t begin to understand the machinations of the Lanruvian mind.”
“Speaking of the bridge,” said Reg, “has that manky bugger Dermit turned up yet? Or his knife-happy offsider?”
Gerald held his breath. Dermit and Volker’s bodies had been thaumaturgically disposed of, their deaths comprehensively lied about. As far as Sir Alec and Sir Ralph and everyone else was concerned, Norbert of Harenstein’s co-conspirators had seen the writing on the wall and fled. He’d not wanted to lie about it, not to Sir Alec, but what could they do? Risk Bibbie being arrested for murder?
Bloody hell, Reg. What are you playing at?
But Sir Alec was shaking his head. “No, they remain unaccounted for.”
“Well, I hope you find them,” said Bibbie, playing dangerous games. “And throw them into a dungeon. I mean, they did try to drown me in the Canal.”
“Indeed,” said Sir Alec, at his most bland. “We’re doing what we can.”
Did he harbour even a sliver of suspicion? Nothing in his expression suggested it. But then, he was an expert at keeping secrets
…
“And what about the cherries?” Bibbie added. “Was that Leopold’s daft idea?”
“Yes,” said Sir Alec. “Norbert encouraged him since it helped undermine Splotze, which was his primary goal. I understand the marquis promised Gertz a great deal of influence in the cherry liqueur business as a reward for his help.”
“Norbert,” said Melissande, in tones of deep loathing. “Honestly, I could kick myslef. I should’ve known he was rotten. I mean, how difficult is it to remember someone’s name?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Miss Cadwallader,” said Sir Alec, surpringly kind. “Nobody suspected Harenstein. After all, not every villain struts the stage twirling his moustache and loudly proclaiming his evil plans. Which is a pity, since it would certainly make my job a lot easier.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“Nothing public,” said Sir Alec. “There are talks going on, behind firmly closed doors. Everything is being handled with the utmost discretion.”
Monk shook his head. “The whole thing’s been handled that way. It’s been very impressive, really. Well. You know.” He looked at Bibbie. “Except for the part where the palace burned down.”
Bibbie thumped the table. “It did not burn down! Will you stop saying it burned down? There’s still a palace there, right?”
“Yes,” Monk murmured. “A charred, sooty, smelly, burned palace.”
“Anyway,” said Melissande, with a daggered look at Monk and Bibbie, “my point is, Sir Alec, will Norbert be punished for what he did?”
Sir Alec hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Miss Cadwallader. He will.”
“Good,” she said, fiercely smiling. “Then please be so kind as to give me his postal address when he’s settled in his new and hopefully very dungeon-like accommodation. I shall write to him once a week. Dear Norris. Dear Nigel. Dear Neville. Dear Nugent.”
Gerald, watching Sir Alec, thought it was the closest he’d ever seen his self-contained superior to outright laughter.
“So it’s over?” said Bibbie. “We won, they lost, three cheers, pip pip, hoorah?”
“As far as anything like this can ever be said to end, Miss Markham? Yes,” said Sir Alec, very cool. “Ludwig and Ratafia are now man and wife, the new Canal treaty has been signed and ratified, and as a result we can look forward to a new era of peace and prosperity in the region.”
Melissande snorted. “Provided Erminium stays out of the way. But I, for one, won’t be holding my breath.” She favoured Sir Alec with a narrow-eyed stare. “Now, since it seems we’re tying up all the loose ends, what about Abel Bestwick? I mean, without him Norbert would’ve got everything he wanted.”
Ah, yes. Bestwick. Talk about complications…
“That’s a Department matter, Miss Cadwallader,” Sir Alec, his expression bland again. “Don’t let it concern you.”
Melissande pointed a finger at him. “But it does concern me. I want your word he’ll not be punished for wick-dipping with Mitzie. She helped save the day too, y’know. And they’re in love.”
A pained look ghosted across Sir Alec’s face. “Indeed.”
“Well, then?”
“Well, then, Miss Cadwallader…” Sir Alec shrugged. “You have my word.”
Gerald nearly swallowed his tongue.
“And what about-” Monk hesitated. “Well. You know.” He waved his hand. “Everything else.”
Sir Alec raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mister Markham.”
“You know,” Monk said, scowling. “The embassies and so forth. You were s’posed to sort that out with Uncle Ralph.”
The eyebrow climbed higher. “Was I?”
Sitting beside him, Bibbie patted his hand. “Ignore him, Monk. He’s teasing. I had tea and crumpets with Uncle Ralph this morning and everything’s fine.”
Monk slewed round to stare at her. “You did? Why didn’t you invite me?”
Bibbie’s smile was poisonously sweet. “You told Dodsworth the palace burned down.”
“Bloody hell,” Monk muttered. “I give up.”
Under cover of more lively sibling nattering, Gerald looked at Sir Alec. “And what about me?” he said quietly. “Does Mister Jennings have an opinion?”
“Perhaps, Mister Dunwoody, this is neither the time nor place to-”
“You might as well tell me, sir. We both know I’m going to tell them after you’re gone.”
Sir Alec frowned. “Indeed. Well, Mister Dunwoody, in a nutshell? Mister Jennings is reluctant to draw a definitive conclusion as to what has happened to you.”
“Ha,” said Reg. “I’m not. You should sack that tosser Jennings and give me his bloody job. What happened, Mister Clever Clogs, is exactly what you hoped would happen. The grimoire magic you left behind in Gerald, on purpose, and don’t you think for a moment any of us was fooled by that little ploy, has grafted itself well and truly into my boy’s rogue potentia. Whatever he was before his little jaunt into my world, well, he’s twice that now, at least… and it might be only the beginning. That’s the explanation, sunshine. So. Are you happy now?”
Silence, as they all looked at Sir Alec. Silence, as Sir Alec looked back at them.
“Obviously,” he said at last, “there will be no discussion whatsoever with anyone outside this room regarding the events that transpired in Splotze. In fact, it would be best if you never discussed them again, either.” His lips pinched. “Of course, I say that purely as a matter of form, since I know perfectly well you’ll talk of nothing else for the foreseeable future. But as far as my Department is concerned, the Splotze-Borovnik file is closed. And I think I can safely say the same opinion is held by Sir Ralph. Mister Markham, you’ll return to your duties in Research and Development, while the rest of you will get back to Witches Inc. And should I have need of your services again, Mister Dunwoody, be sure I shall find you there. And now I’ll bid you good night.” He stood. “It was a delightful meal. Thank you.”
They sat in silence after he left. Then Reg broke the hush with a vigorous rattle of her tail.
“Right,” she said briskly. “So that’s that. At least for now. And you know what they say. All’s well that ends well. So, who wants more pie?”
