“You know this creep?” said Molly.

“He’s with MI5,” I said. “Or at least, he used to be. Worked with Uncle James on a lot of cases, back in the day. I saw him around the Hall a lot, when I was a kid.”

“Please,” said MacAlpine. “You’re making me feel old.”

“What are you doing out in the field, Phil?” I said. “And when did you join up with Manifest Destiny?”

MacAlpine shook his head quickly. “I’m nothing to do with Truman’s private army. This is an MI5 operation; though strictly speaking of course, it isn’t, officially. This comes under DDT.”

Molly looked at me. “Pest control?”

“Department of Dirty Tricks,” I said. “Departments within departments, that don’t officially exist, for maximum deniability. Who set this up, Phil?”

He smiled briefly, and shrugged. “You know I can’t answer that, Eddie.”

“Molly,” I said calmly, “you want to turn him into something more cooperative?”

“It was all the prime minister’s idea,” MacAlpine said quickly. “He wanted us to establish whether the Droods really were as vulnerable as our intelligence suggested. So we could take the advantage while you were still weak.” He looked at the wreckage and bodies all around him. “So many good men, dead and injured. You didn’t use to be this vicious, Eddie.”

“I only kill when I have to,” I said. “You know that.”

MacAlpine looked at me, his face unreadable. “I don’t know anything about you anymore, Eddie.”

“The politicians are getting restless,” I said to Molly. “I suppose something like this was inevitable, once word started to get around. The politicians would love a chance to get their hands on a Drood and sweat some real secrets out of him. We’d better get back to the Hall; see what else is happening.” I looked back at MacAlpine. “I’m surprised to see you here, Phil. Last I heard, you’d been thrown out of Special Operations for excessive violence.”

“Don’t be silly, Eddie,” he said. “That’s how most of us get in. You must know . . . this won’t stop here. The prime minister’s taken too much shit from the Droods down the years not to strike back, now he sees an opportunity. All our agents are being called in, for a preemptive strike against your family. Even the old bastards like me. All sins forgiven, if not forgotten. And it won’t just be us. The whole world will be at your throat, from now on.”

I considered him thoughtfully. “Just how did you find out that the Droods don’t have their golden armour anymore?”