Chingford swung the revolver to him, the look in his eyes unsettling. “Shut up. For tuppence I’ll kill you myself. You’re a murderer and he’s a liar and you’ve been trying to trap me and I won’t have it.”

“Knowle set you up, you fucking fool,” Kim said through his teeth.

“Knowle’s a cleverer man than you. He knows what’s what.”

“He’s had at least three people killed in recent weeks. He’s been trying to revive a criminal organisation. Actually, while you’re here, Knowle, what was the plan? The one that horrified Pisces so much he informed against you, and set Fairfax wanting to get away? I’m consumed with curiosity.”

“You’ll see it in action yet,” Knowle said. “Enough of this. I’ve told you what’s going to happen. Lord Flitby has agreed to my proposition—”

“Oh, really,” Phoebe said, with open disgust. “Goodness me.”

“Be quiet, Lady Waring.”

“If you point that gun at her, it will be your last act,” Kim said. “Are you serious, Father? You’re going to help a criminal escape justice?”

“Several criminals,” Knowle said. “You as well, Lord Arthur.”

“If you’d like to be rude, Kim, don’t mind us,” Maisie said. “And I don’t think Lord Chingford should do this.”

“Nor do I,” Phoebe agreed. “I think he should be on the other side.”

“Be quiet, woman!” Knowle said, with startling contempt. “Lord Chingford understands the situation very well. Get me over to the Continent and everything will be all right.”

“I highly doubt that,” Kim said. “And you are telling us all your plan because—?”

Chingford grinned unpleasantly. “Because you’re coming too. All of you.”

“You what?” Will said.

“Don’t be absurd,” Phoebe said. “Why should we?”

“It’s a six-man yacht.” Lord Flitby’s voice was flat and toneless. “A ten-hour trip each way at best. A full day and night’s sailing. I prefer not to take crew from the village.”

“No indeed,” Kim said. “Since you’d be making them accessories to a serious crime, and Knowle would probably kill them once we got to the other side rather than risk them talking. What part of that makes you feel this is a good idea?”

A muscle tensed in Lord Flitby’s jaw. “You heard him. This is the only possible course.”

“Can’t leave you here to blab, and someone needs to stoke the boiler,” Chingford added.

“You want us doing your manual labour?” Will said. “Get fucked.”

“You will cooperate or I will kill you now.” Knowle spoke quite casually. “There is nothing else I can do to keep you silent. So you will come with us and assist, and the ladies will accompany us to guarantee your good behaviour.”

“That’s more likely to guarantee very bad behaviour,” Phoebe said. “And we will most certainly not accompany you. Maisie gets dreadfully seasick.”