Kim waved a hand with absolute assurance. “I’ve just spoken to Mr. Knowle, don’t worry. Mr. Yoxall?”

“I don’t believe he’s in, my lord, but—”

“What the devil are you doing here?”

Will turned at the hostile voice, and saw Johnnie Cheveley a few feet away.

No, he didn’t. Johnnie Cheveley was dead. He’d shot Will once and been about to do it again, so Kim had cut his arm off and he’d bled to death on the floor. But the man staring at Kim was awfully like him, all the same.

This was the older brother of course, Sir Alan Cheveley. Will had seen him at the inquest, when Kim had been commended for killing Johnnie.

“Cheveley,” Kim said, voice so level a carpenter could have used it.

“Secretan,” the other man said. “What are you doing on these premises?”

“I’m on business.”

“Business? This is not an office. You aren’t a member.”

“Notwithstanding,” Kim said. “Excuse me.”

Cheveley stepped into his way. “Just a damned minute. You aren’t a member. I want to know what you’re doing here and who allowed it.”

“This is about Chingford, I expect,” said Cheveley’s companion.

Cheveley’s jaw hardened. “That’s it, isn’t it? Trying to get your brother off, I suppose. Good Lord, it’s come to something when a family of your supposed pedigree produces not one but two murderers.” His voice was loud, making heads turn. Kim’s face stayed blank, but his cheekbones were staining red. “A filthy disgrace. How dare you set foot in these premises? I shall take this to the Committee.”

“You do that,” Will said. “My arm’s fine, by the way.”

Cheveley looked blank. “Will Darling. From the inquest, remember? Your brother shot me, just after he had Lord Waring killed so he could steal his money. What were you saying about murderers?”

Cheveley’s face flooded with deep crimson. “How dare you?”

“Your brother was going to kill me, mate, that’s how. And I’ll tell you something else—”

“Don’t,” Kim said. “This won’t help.”

“You have no right to be here and no right to speak about my brother!”

“No right? He bloody shot me!”

“Will!” Kim snapped. “Enough.”

“He was killed from behind—”

“He was a thief, a cheat, and a murderer, and he deserved what he got,” Will said, swayed sideways round Cheveley’s wild blow, and cracked the bastard a beautiful one in the eye. Cheveley staggered back, then barrelled in again. Will met him with a punch to the jaw, and was pulled abruptly off balance by an arm round his neck and a startlingly painful two-fingered jab to the kidney.

“Stop,” Kim said savagely in his ear. “Now. Jesus.”

“What the devil is going on?” Mitra demanded from across the hall.