“Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I’m sure this was a lovely place before . . .”

“I was never a traitor,” I said. I didn’t recognise my own voice. “I was the only one who stayed true to what the family was supposed to be.”

“I know, Eddie. Come away.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s all right.”

It wasn’t, but I let her lead me away.

Back in the living room, I looked around me, trying to make some sense of the mess. They hadn’t actually broken much. Probably didn’t have the time.

“They really did a job on you,” said Molly. She was trying hard not to step on things, but it was impossible. I loved her for making the effort, though.

“It’s what I expected,” I said. “I did worse, in my time, when I was a field agent. Turning over some villain’s lair in the search for clues, or evidence. Or just because I could. It was all part of the game, then. But . . . cosmic payback’s a bitch. Do you believe in karma, Molly?”

“My karma ran over my dogma,” Molly said briskly. “Didn’t you think to put any protections around your home?”

I snorted. “Tons of the bloody things. You’d have a better chance of breaking into Bill Gates’s private porn stash. But nothing my family couldn’t get through. I never thought I’d need to protect myself against my own family.”

Molly frowned. “Wouldn’t the neighbours have heard something, and called the police?”

“No one ever hears a Drood at work,” I said. “Or if they do, we make them forget it.”

“For their own good, of course.”

“Mostly, yes. Oh, I see; you were being ironic. Sorry. I’m not always very good at picking up on that.”

“You and your whole family,” muttered Molly.

“What?”

“Nothing . . . What do you suppose they were looking for here?”

“The usual,” I said. “Objects of Power, unauthorised grimoires and forbidden texts, information I shouldn’t have had access to . . . maybe even records of payments from outside the family. Anything they could use to condemn, pressure, or blackmail me. My family has always preferred to negotiate from a position of strength. Fools . . . As though I’d leave anything that important just lying around here, for anyone to find . . .”

“Right,” said Molly, smiling mischievously. “Where do you keep your really secret stuff, Eddie? Your embarrassing photos of yourself as a kid, your old teenage crush love letters, and your own personal naughty films? Any particular favourites you might want to bring along with you? I can be very broad-minded . . .”

“I don’t have any of those things,” I said with some dignity.

Molly sighed and shook her head. “For a secret agent, you’ve led a very sheltered life. Not to worry, Eddie. I’ll be your porn.”

I smiled. “And they say romantic banter is dead.”