Before Dan could answer, the French doors opened and a chattering Marcy came in, banging her gloved hands together to ward off the cold and stomping her feet. “I think we could plant it up . . .” She broke off, seeming to sense something was wrong and as she saw who was at the table she paled with horror.

Marcus wrinkled his nose, looking from Marcy to Maria, who was hovering nearby, and back again. “Is this some kind of convention?” he asked in cruel amazement.

“Who let him in?” Marcy spat as Claudia fought the urge to stab him.

Before anyone could answer, Henry came in behind Marcy, followed by Archie.

Clearly realizing there was a problem Henry looked from Marcus to Dan and back again. “Are you who I think you are?” he asked carefully.

Marcus didn’t answer. He was looking past Henry, with an expression of disbelief on his face. “Well, well,” he declared smoothly, “I didn’t expect to find you here, Archie boy.”

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized his mistake, and picking up on it, Claudia said, “So you two have met before?”

Archie’s scowl was thunderous. “Yeah, we’ve met,” he confirmed, “he’s one of the PCs I used to deliver to.”

“Which does not,” Marcus informed the room, “in any way connect me to what he did here.”

Dan said, “Given that you’ve just demonstrated, in front of witnesses, that you know Archie, I think much of your bargaining power has just evaporated. So I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Marcus, white-faced with fury at his own stupidity, was already on his feet.

“Don’t come here again,” Dan told him, directing him to the door, “and don’t try to make any other kind of contact with Claudia, her mother, Jasmine, or Archie.”

“The fact I might know that boy,” Marcus growled, “means nothing. I’ve never spoken to him or approached him in any way about anything to do with this place. If he says I did, he’s lying.”

“Is he?” Dan said. “Maybe we should put that to the police?”

Marcus glared at Archie. “I’ll give it six months and the scum will rise back to the surface.”

“Get out,” Marcy shouted furiously. “Get out now.”

Marcus walked to the door, tore it open and stalked outside. He didn’t bother closing it, nor did he see Maria come out behind him, he only felt the clunk on the back of his head as it was struck by the can of furniture polish she hurled at him.

“An’ don’ come back,” she shouted after him, and slamming the door she muttered, “effin’ co’venshun,” and even Marcy had to laugh.

ONCE SURE HE’D gone, Dan turned from the window and looked at Claudia. “Are you OK?” he asked.