Matthew felt near passing out. The chamber swung about him. Merda clapped his hands in time with the drumbeat and Krakowski followed suit. Matthew looked toward Lash, Cardinal Black and the Owl, who were all leaning slightly forward in anticipation.

Nack let out a scream, because one of Lizzie’s claws was travelling down his chest—slowly, slowly—drawing lines of blood in their wake.

“Sit still,” Julian hissed.

Sweat was on Matthew’s face. Bad man or good man? To speak out … what good would it do? It was a hopeless situation … to speak out … hopeless … Nack was doomed … to speak out … he and Julian would also be doomed … and Berry lost in the grip of her insanity … hopeless …

“Please … please … I ain’t done nothin’!” Nack begged, and once more he screamed as RakeHell Lizzie’s other glove travelled down his chest and more lines of blood bloomed.

Hopeless.

But when had that ever stopped him from doing what he knew to be right?

The claws made circles over Nack’s belly. In a matter of seconds Nack—for all his boasts and bullying and prideful strutting—would be on his way to becoming a sack of dead meat.

No, Matthew thought.

He stood up, and as he did Julian grabbed at him but he shook the hand off.

“Stop this!” Matthew said.

The drumbeat and the whistling abruptly halted. All eyes—even those of RakeHell Lizzie—turned upon him.

“Oh dear God,” Julian muttered, and lowered his head.

“My name is Matthew Corbett,” was the next thing from Matthew’s mouth, and it seemed extraordinarily loud in the chamber, echoing around the walls. Matthew had an instant of thinking himself to be utterly insane, but he steeled himself and plowed onward. “I am a member of the Herrald Agency,” he decided to say. “Right now this house is surrounded by armed men. It is useless to continue this … if I and the man before you are not allowed to leave—with the book of potions in hand—they will storm this house and—”

Cardinal Black was on his feet. He came toward Matthew like a walking storm.

Julian stood up. “This man killed Baron Brux and took his place! He forced me into this!” Even as practised an actor as he was, the desperation in his voice was evident. “But what he says is true! The house is surrounded!”

As Cardinal Black reached Matthew, Lash and the Owl were on their feet. Lash struck the Owl with an open palm on the shoulder and the white-suited security man hurriedly left the chamber through its archway to presumably check outside. Black stood before Matthew, yanked off the high wig, spat into his hand and rubbed the spittle across Matthew’s forehead, wiping off the powder and revealing the scar he had seen in their encounter at Y Beautiful Bedd.

Cardinal Black smiled. On that weirdly elongated face it was more of a grotesque leer.