‘He couldn’t tell you about his work,’ I said. ‘Who he was, what he did. But if he could have, you would have been proud of him.’
‘Of course I was proud of him!’ said Walter. ‘I was his father …’ His voice cracked on that last word, and he thrust the sealed envelope at me.
I took it from him and studied the inscription on the outside. Just my name, in the Colonel’s immaculate hand. I’d seen it before, on so many sealed orders. I looked up, to see Walter gazing at me expectantly.
I just looked back, until it became clear to him that I wasn’t going to open the envelope until I was alone.
‘Security,’ I said.
‘Of course,’ said Walter. ‘I understand.’
‘I will tell you what it says, later,’ I said. ‘If there’s anything in it you need to know. It’s probably just my instructions. Explaining why he called me here, and what I’m supposed to be doing.’
Walter nodded, reluctantly. He turned to the closed dining hall door, hesitated, looked back. ‘Will you be all right here, on your own?’
‘I’m always on my own,’ I said. ‘And I’m always all right.’
Walter nodded again, trying to look like he understood. He pushed the door open, and once more there was a brief uproar of raised voices from inside, before the door shut them off again. I put my back against the door, so I could keep an eye on the empty hallway, and then I opened the envelope.
It wasn’t a long letter. Just a hurried scrawl, rather than the Colonel’s usual perfect penmanship. Wouldn’t surprise me if he wrote it in his car, before he got out and entered Belcourt Manor. One last piece of insurance.
As I read it, I could hear the Colonel’s voice in my head. Calm and assured, even in the face of danger. Because he was the Colonel.
Ishmael; watch your back. I have returned to my old home to face a very real danger; because my family is at risk. I stayed away all these years, distanced myself from my family, so that my work wouldn’t endanger them. But now, everything has changed. A horror has come to Belcourt Manor. I don’t know if I can stop it, if I can protect my family. If it turns out I can’t, I must ask you to do it for me. I can’t even tell you what I think the danger is, because I have no proof; and I can’t risk pointing you in the wrong direction. It is possible that I am wrong. And if I am, then we’ll just have a jolly Christmas together. But that’s not the way I’d bet. Whatever happens, Ishmael, protect my family.
And that was it. Not even a signature. Just one last note, from a man who believed he was going to his death and went willingly. Because he had always been a man who believed in duty. And in one last act of love for his family. I read through the letter again, looking for some clue as to what kind of danger I’d been brought here to fight. A horror has come to Belcourt Manor …
That suggested a danger from my world, not from Walter and his business. From the hidden world, and the dark side of the road. I had to wonder: how bad was this danger that a man as experienced in dealing with bad things as the Colonel could fall to it so easily? A man who’d shut down many a monstrous trouble in his time? I’d worked with him in the field on several occasions, seen him in action. The Colonel always led the way, because he was the best of us.
I remembered the Murder Generals; the Dark Lady from Under the Hill; the Queen in Waiting and the Cathedral in Flames; and the High Orbit Ghosts. They all threatened the world, in their time, until the Colonel and I put them down.
But I’d seen nothing at Belcourt Manor to suggest the touch of Outside Forces. Could the Colonel’s death really be nothing more than a disgruntled ex-employee? Sawing off the Colonel’s head spoke to human cruelty, to making a vicious point … I couldn’t rule that out. But I couldn’t believe the Colonel would call me in for anything so straightforward. No; this had to be linked to the Colonel’s past. All the enemies he made, all across the world, doing the Organization’s business.
Except I would have sworn an oath they were all dead. The Colonel never did believe in leaving loose ends.
I slipped the letter carefully back in its envelope and tucked it securely away in an inside pocket. And then I pushed open the door and went in to dinner.
They were all sitting around one end of a really long table, in the grand old dining hall of Belcourt Manor. The room was huge, vast, overpowering. Big enough to play cricket in, with a high arched ceiling you couldn’t have reached with a stepladder. A great fire burned fiercely, in a massive stone fireplace. Two hanging chandeliers shed fierce electric light from one end of the dining hall to the other. The shutters covering the two huge windows at the far end were so heavy, I couldn’t hear even a murmur from the storm outside. The room was in a state of denial, like the people inside it.
Everyone at the table made a point of not looking up as I entered. They all seemed very preoccupied, though the plates set out in front of them were all conspicuously empty. I slammed the door, on general principles, and strolled forward.
Walter sat at the head of the table, with Melanie seated at his right hand and Diana at his left. The Lord of the Manor, with his Ladies. Sylvia sat next to Diana, and Khan sat next to Melanie. Roger next to Khan, and opposite him, Penny next to Sylvia. I pulled out a chair and sat down next to Penny. She shot me a quick, grateful smile, before going back to not listening to what Roger was saying to her.
I settled myself comfortably, removed the gleaming white napkin from its engraved silver ring, flipped the cloth out and dropped it into my lap. I don’t need napkins; I never drop anything. But it’s all part of fitting in.
The china set out before me was really quite impressive, and I’m not easily impressed. Old pieces, much used, probably going back generations. The layers of cutlery spreading out from my plate didn’t intimidate me in the least. I have travelled through every country in the world, doing good, or something very like it, and learned all their customs. All you had to do here was start at the outside and work your way in, course by course. At least no one at Belcourt Manor was going to object if I ate with my left hand.
The long dining table had obviously been intended to seat a much larger gathering, from the days when the Belcourts were a much larger family. Or perhaps they were just bigger people in those days. Walter’s Christmas gathering didn’t even fill up half the table. The tablecloth was gleaming white samite, with burning candelabra set at regular intervals. The candle-flames burned straight up, not bothered by even a breath of a draught. It was all very calm and dignified, and not a Christmas cracker was in sight. I’ve never cared for such things. I won’t read out stupid jokes, I won’t play with stupid toys, and I absolutely refuse to wear stupid paper hats. It’s not about dignity; it’s about self-respect.
Still no promise of any food, so I looked around the room.
The walls boasted yet more family portraits, more weapons on display, and the odd souvenir or relic from the Belcourt family’s military past. Flags and banners, handwritten proclamations preserved under glass, silver snuffboxes and bejewelled bits and bobs. The loot of history. I made a mental note to steal something small and valuable before I left the house, just on general principles. And without quite seeming to, I looked at everyone seated round the table, and watched their faces as I listened in on their conversations.
Penny sat back in her chair and stared at nothing, toying vaguely with her napkin ring, making vague noises of interest in response to Roger’s desperate attempts to make conversation.
‘Everything’s going to be all right, Penny,’ the young man said earnestly. ‘You’re not to worry. I’ll look after you. I know it must have been a hell of a shock … finding James like that.’ He paused, to look dubiously at me. I made sure I just happened to be looking somewhere else.