“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.