“All right, people!” I said loudly. “Nice of you to look in, but, gosh, look at the time, you must be going. Visiting hours are over until I’m through here. Hopefully you’re more intelligent than the crowd outside, so we can dispense with the usual threats and menaces…Good, good. Head for the door, single file, no pushing or shoving or there’ll be tears before bedtime.”
They left with their heads erect and their noses in the air, ignoring me as thoroughly as they could. Penny went to follow them, but I stopped her with a gesture.
“Hang about for a minute, Penny. I need to talk to you.”
“What makes you think I want to talk to you?”
“Because unlike most of that crowd, you’ve actually got a brain in your head. Because you’ve always had the good of the family at heart. And because what I have to say is linked directly to the continued survival of the Drood family. Interested?”
“Maybe. You always did like the sound of your own voice too much, Eddie.”
“You wound me deeply.”
“I notice you’re not denying it.”
“How’s the Matriarch?” I said quickly, deftly changing the subject.
“As well as can be expected.”
“And Alistair?”
“How do you think?”
It was clear she wasn’t going to give me an inch, so I gestured for her to stay where she was, while I went over to stand beside the Matriarch. I waited for her to at least glance at me, but she just kept on spooning soup into the dark gap in Alistair’s bandages. I couldn’t see any sign of him swallowing it. If it hadn’t been for the slight but definite rise and fall of his bandaged chest, I would have wondered if he might be dead, and no one had had the heart to tell Martha.
“Hello, Grandmother,” I said finally. “I would have come sooner, but I’ve been very busy. Working for the family. How is he?”
“How do you think?” Martha Drood said flatly, still not turning around. Her voice was tired, but still cold as steel, sharp as a razor blade. “Look at him. Maimed. Crippled. Disfigured. My lovely Alistair. All thanks to you, Edwin.”
“How did he ever get his hands on the Salem Special?” I said. “Awful weapon. We should have destroyed it long ago. And Alistair never knew anything about guns. So someone must have given it to him. Did you give him the gun, Grandmother, to use against my Molly?”
She looked at me for the first time, her face cold and implacable as stone. “Of course not! Alistair was never a fighter. He abhorred guns. It was one of the things I loved most about him. No…He just wanted to protect me. So he showed some initiative, for the first time in his life. He had to know how dangerous the Salem Special was, but all he could think of… was that I was in danger.”
“Turned out you were right about him after all, Grandmother,” I said. “He was a good man and true, when it mattered. That’s why you never told him the secret of the golden torcs. Never told him about the generations of Drood babies sacrificed to the Heart, so we could wear the golden armour. You never told him, because you knew a good man like that would never have stood for such an abomination.”
“He didn’t need to know! It was my burden, not his! And I did what I had to, to keep the family strong. Stronger than all the enemies who would have dragged us down in a moment if we had ever stumbled!”
“Martha?”
Alistair’s bandaged head turned slowly, blindly, back and forth, disturbed by her raised voice, or perhaps just because the soup had stopped. His voice was light and breathy, like a child’s. “Is there someone here, Martha?”
“It’s all right, darling,” Martha said quickly. She went to pat him on the shoulder, and then stopped for fear of hurting him. “Hush now, dear. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“I’m cold. And my head hurts. Is there someone here?”
“It’s just Edwin.”
“Is he back visiting us?”
“Yes, dear. You rest quietly, and you can have some more nice soup in a minute.” She looked at me. “He doesn’t remember any of it. Probably for the best. Except… he doesn’t seem to remember much of anything anymore. He knows who he is, and who I am; and that’s about it. Maybe someday he’ll have to forget even that, to forget what you did to him. Damn you, Edwin, what are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough harm? You killed my son James. The very best of us, and a better man than you’ll ever be! You’ve destroyed my husband. And you’ve neutered the family, by taking away its torcs. Left us defenceless in the face of our enemies, and the whole of humanity undefended. I should never have let my daughter marry that man. Should never have let you run away. I should have had you killed years ago, Edwin!”
“Can’t say any of this comes as much of a surprise to me, Grandmother,” I said after a while. “I always knew you felt more duty toward me than love. Children can tell.”
“What do you want, Edwin?”
“I want your help, Grandmother. Yes, I thought that would get your attention. I need your help and cooperation to rebuild the family, and make it strong again. Strong and united… A divided family cannot stand, and the vultures are already gathering. I’m doing what I can to provide leadership, but everywhere I look there’s a new faction springing up. Your endorsement would go a long way towards unifying the family behind me. So I’m asking you to put aside all hurts and grievances, old and new, and help me. For the sake of the family.”
“No,” said Martha, quite calmly, enjoying the disappointment in my face. “I won’t fight you, Edwin, but I won’t help you either. I’m going to let you run this family, and when you’ve messed it all up and run the family into the ground, they’ll come to me…and beg me to lead the family again; and I will. And I’ll undo everything you’ve done and put the family back the way it was. The way it’s supposed to be.”
“People will die, Martha.”
“Let them. Let them pay the price for disloyalty.”
Penny stepped forward. She actually looked shocked. “But…Matriarch? What about anything for the family?”
“Leave me,” said Martha Drood. “I’m tired.”
Penny and I walked back through the antechamber, side by side. The people waiting looked startled at seeing the two of us together, but had the good sense to say nothing. The ones I’d booted out of the bedroom couldn’t wait to rush past me, desperate to ask the Matriarch what had just happened. I wondered how much she’d tell them. Out in the corridor, I shut the suite’s door firmly behind me, started to speak to Penny, stopped, and then led her a little farther down the corridor. Just in case someone had their ear pressed to the door. I wouldn’t put it past them. It was what I would have done.
“Penny,” I said. “You see how things are. I need your help. I’m asking you for the same reason I asked the Matriarch; because I can’t do this alone. Help me run things. For the sake of the family.”
Penny looked at me thoughtfully, her cool regard as unreadable as always. “What precisely did you have in mind? As a secretary?”
“Join my Inner Circle. Help set policy. Help make the decisions that matter.”
She looked genuinely shocked for a moment, and I had to smile. Whatever she’d been expecting to hear, that hadn’t been it. Membership in the Inner Circle would give her real power in the family, and a real chance of influencing me. She took a deep breath, which did interesting things to her tight white sweater, and was immediately her old cool and composed self again.
“Why in hell would you want someone like me, a hardcore traditionalist?”
“To keep me honest,” I said. “To tell me the things I need to know, whether I want to hear them or not. To rein me in when I go too far, try to make changes too quickly. Or to spur me on if I start dithering. You’ve always been the sensible one, Penny. A terrible thing to hear, I know, but facts are facts. If I can’t convince you something is right or necessary, maybe it isn’t. And…you know a hell of a lot more about running things and organising people than I do.”
“Pretty much anyone knows more about those things than you do,” said Penny. “I had to spend hours cleaning up your mission reports before I could pass them on.”