“Dozing, anyway,” Phoebe said, in the piercing tone Will had heard from Bright Young People before. It wasn’t loud, precisely, but there was a cut-glass, if not broken-glass, quality about it that could carry through a crowded nightclub. “Poor lamb. And he really is a lamb, darling, you’re awfully lucky. I love you of course, but you aren’t the easiest to put up with. I hope you tell him you adore him all the time.”

Will could feel himself going red right to the ears. Kim looked slightly nonplussed. “I have mentioned the matter, yes.”

“Good. Because really, this business has been terribly unfair on him. At least you’ll never have to worry about inheriting again, so he’ll be spared that.”

“I won’t?”

“Of course not— Oh! We haven’t told you! Maisie, we never told him about Chingford! How absurd, when we rushed down precisely to do that. Honestly, darling, you won’t believe it. We went back to talk to Florrie, you see, and she said some things that got us thinking, and to cut a long story short, guess where we were this morning? Is it this morning still? It seems forever ago. Guess where we were, anyway.”

Kim was regarding her with awe. “I have no idea.”

“Seventeen Mount Street.”

Phoebe announced that like a killing blow. Kim blinked. “And that is—?”

“The address of the most fascinating woman. Appallingly vulgar of course, but a very sharp wit, and quite stunning still. Well, she must have been to get her way—which she did, you know, I’ve seen the certificates, and she’s certainly done her duty by him, one can’t dispute that. Three, Kim, and all boys! You should see them, especially young Freddie. He’s seven years old and the living spit—”

Will was very nearly fatally distracted, but the fumble and scrape of the lock turning gave him just enough warning. He was ready as the door slammed open and Chingford strode in, gun pointing at Phoebe. “You bloody—”

Will brought the spanner down on his arm, hard, and whacked it straight back up again into his face, sending his head snapping back with a spray of blood. Kim scrambled for the dropped revolver as Will slammed the spanner into Chingford’s gut, and clobbered him on the back of the skull as he doubled over, sending him down for good.

Kim caught him before he hit the floor and lowered him the last foot. Had it all been audible from above? Hard to say, with the throb of the engine.

Will glanced back at the others. Phoebe and Maisie were both wide-eyed, hands over mouths in identical expressions of shock. Kim was looking at his brother’s head, and the pool of blood spreading around it, but he made a quick gesture to Will: Get on.