Whoever it is, they re not on the guest list, I said to Molly. No one is allowed in here until we ve got the family back in residence again.
Probably looters, Molly said cheerfully.
Oh, almost certainly looters, I said. The poor bastards. I am just in the mood to beat the crap out of some bad guys.
By the time we got to the front of the Hall, a whole line of really big trucks was storming up the main gravel drive and heading for the front entrance. All the trucks were huge, oversized monster-storage jobs, the kind you hire to move the whole contents of really big houses. They were heading through the grounds like they had every right to be there, and I was really looking forward to making it clear to them that they didn t. They had no right to be on Drood territory, menacing my home. They had to know what had happened to the Hall and my family, or they d never have dared be so brave. Made my blood boil Show one sign of weakness in this world, and before you know it the vultures are turning up with knives and forks and their best bibs on. That s what those trucks were. A convoy of scavengers. Come to loot and ransack whatever was left of the ruined Hall while the charred timbers were still warm.
I ran out into the main drive and stopped, taking up a position between the lead truck and the Hall. I struck an authoritative pose and held up one hand to signal the driver to stop. Did he, hell. He just sounded his horn and kept on coming. So I called up my armour. I didn t need the old activating Words; I just had to think, and there it was. The rogue armour swept over me in a moment, sealing me in from head to toe. I didn t cry out at the cold this time. I was growing accustomed to the new armour. I wasn t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but with a massive big truck bearing down on me and showing absolutely no signs of slowing, I was glad to have the armour about me.
The driver in the lead truck took one look at the Drood in his armour who d just appeared out of nowhere right in front of him (when presumably he d been promised he d never have to face any such thing) and slammed his foot hard down on the brake. The truck skidded to a halt amid screams of burning tyres and unhealthy-looking smoke issued out from under the wheel arches. Gravel flew in every direction as the front of the truck skidded back and forth, the driver fighting to bring it under control. It finally slammed to a halt so close to me, I could have reached out a hand and prodded the radiator grille. There was more screeching and skidding from all the other trucks farther down the line as they were forced into equally sudden halts.
I folded my golden arms across my golden chest and studied the white-faced driver in his raised cab. And then Molly Metcalf stepped out into the drive to stand beside me, and the driver looked even more upset.
For a long moment the driver stayed in his cab, looking down at us, clearly lost for what to do. I m sure he was hoping that if he just sat there long enough, we would disappear or go away but when it became clear that wasn t going to happen, he sighed heavily, turned off the engine, opened the side door and dropped down into the gravel to join us. He looked back at the long line of suddenly parked trucks, took a deep breath and walked slowly and very unhappily forward to face Molly and me. An average height, average weight, middle-aged guy with male pattern baldness and a sickly smile, wearing a much-used workman s outfit. He crashed to a halt right before me, his uncertain smile losing confidence by the moment.
Hello! he said with desperate conviviality.
Nice to be here! Isn t it a great day? Very summery! Yes. I m Dave Chapman, head of Plunder, Incorporated.
Oh, bloody hell, said Molly, cutting across his words mercilessly. I know who this is. You used to be the Road Rats, didn t you?
Chapman winced. We did operate under that trade name, yes, but we have recently upgraded. Gone upmarket, as it were. He was trying for dignity and not even coming close. Might I enquire whom I might be addressing?
I m Molly Metcalf. She gave Chapman her very brightest and most dangerous smile, and all the colour dropped out of his face.
Oh, shit.
You ve heard of me, said Molly, pleased.
Chapman glanced back over his shoulder, clearly debating whether to just break and make a run for it, and then he reluctantly stood his ground and looked at me.
And I am Edwin Drood, I said, not wanting to be left out of the intimidation. Chapman made a high whining noise and looked even more upset, if that were possible. His feet shifted nervously, disturbing the gravel, as though he desperately wanted to be excused.
Oh, shit, he said, miserably.
Well, quite, I said. What are you doing here at my home, on Drood grounds, Mr. Road Rat Chapman?
Given his piteous condition it was hard to stay mad at him, but worth the effort. I had only to look at the long line of trucks come to haul away my family s heritage, and my blood started boiling all over again.
Chapman gave up looking at Molly and me and looked down at his steel-toed workingman s boots currently digging little holes in the gravel, as though he hoped to find some answers there. Or at the very least, a large and comforting hole he could disappear into. He glanced up again, saw that Molly and I were still there, and shrugged glumly. He looked unhappily back and forth between us, as though he couldn t make up his mind which of us unnerved him most.
Well, sir and miss, of course, he said finally. Strictly speaking, you shouldn t be here. We d been promised no one would be here. We were, in fact, informed that Drood Hall had been blown up, set fire to and generally reduced to wreck and ruin. He glanced past us at what was left of the Hall and seemed to draw strength from the confirming vision.
We were told the Droods were no more, that the Hall and its grounds were no longer defended, and that there were rich pickings for everyone. Or at least for whoever got there first. So I rounded up the boys, fuelled up the rigs and put the hammer down all the way here.
How did you know where to find us? I said.
Drood Hall isn t on the map. Any map.
Chapman swallowed hard. Whatever it was that was hiding you, it s gone now, sir and miss, of course. We were given a sat nav that brought us straight to you. In fact, I think you can be pretty sure there are a lot more plunder-orientated organisations already on their way here, eager to get their hot little hands on Drood riches. We just got here first because we re more professional than most. We are, after all, the best in the business. The old firm, picking up unconsidered trifles and selling them for big profits, for centuries. We re a family business, just like you!
No, I said. You re nothing like us.
Road Rats, said Molly. Never met a disaster you didn t like so you could take advantage of it.
You got here first, so you ll make a fine example to all those who come after you, I said cheerfully to Chapman. A thought struck me. You said you were informed that the Hall had been burnt down. Who informed you?
We keep our electronic ears to the ground, sir. And miss, of course. We monitor all the unusual frequencies for occasions such as this.
So you can kick people while they re down and take what little they have left? said Molly.
Best time, said Chapman, regaining some of his confidence. A chance to loot a place like Drood Hall only comes along once in a generation. If then. The minute we got the word, from a very important gentleman, we were off and running. In fact, he went so far as to say we d be doing him a favour if we were to strip the place clean from top to bottom. He guaranteed he d buy everything we brought him. No matter how unique or dangerous the item might be. He has connections everywhere, you see. Well! Couldn t turn down an opportunity like that. Could we, sir? And miss, of course. How could we say no?