There were eight of them, and they formed a wary half-circle about fifteen feet away. Half were armed with Thumpers, the other half with the short stabbing spear favoured by those who wish to leave no barometric fingerprint. Two were carrying cumbersome knapsacks, and one seemed to have some furniture on his back, secured by what looked like silk curtain-ties. The son we had seen the day before was there, his eyes badly bloodshot. They all looked in far worse health than the Winter alone might suggest. Fodder was taller by at least a foot, and more powerfully built than all of them put together.

‘His Lordship and his son broke the truce, ma’am,’ said Fodder, ‘and we retaliated in self-defence.’

‘I always knew stamp collecting would get them into trouble,’ said the woman, who I assumed was the 13th Earl’s widow, ‘but look here, they were only doing a harmless spot of thieving – and it was the 2d Lloyd-George Mauve.’

‘With the Anglesey cancellation,’ said a man off to our right.

‘Only one in the world,’ said another.

‘Stealing is stealing,’ said Fodder, ‘and they were in the town. Off-limits, as per the truce.’

They stared at one another for a few moments.

‘Will you take tea?’ asked Lady Farnesworth. ‘I always find it so terribly, terribly uncivilised doing deals on matters of life and death just standing in the snow.’

‘I’ll take tea,’ said Fodder.

The piece of furniture that one of the group was carrying turned out to be a gate-leg table and two folding chairs. These were soon set up, along with a tablecloth, cups and saucers and a cake stand with fresh Victoria sponge cake. Another member of the group had set up a small Primus stove and was heating the water.

‘I do so abhor tea from a thermos,’ said the countess, inviting Fodder to sit and then sitting herself, ‘it always tastes stewed.’

She turned to the man heating the water and reminded him to warm the pot.

‘It is so hard to get reliable staff these days,’ she said to Fodder, ‘which is why we have to resort to kidnapping and the occasional murder. Help yourself to some cake, why don’t you?’

Fodder did so, while I stood there uneasily. Beneath the politeness was real menace.

‘So,’ said Lady Farnesworth, ‘how is Aurora these days?’

‘Pretty well, I think.’

‘Is she still doing that thing where she’s two people?’

‘Yes.’

‘She always loved to be centre stage,’ said Lady Farnesworth, ‘ever since we were little. I liked her, despite that. Would be happy to kill her now, of course, but with regret. So: how do we know you’ve not got my husband prisoner, with that reptilian Agent Hooke scouring his dreaming mind for intel? I know what you lot get up to at HiberTech.’

‘We’re Consuls,’ said Fodder, ‘not HiberTech, and we’ve no real idea what goes on there.’