“My mother, Catalina, were she alive still, would slap that vulgarity out of your mouth, Mr Pearl. Such… profanity only makes you seem more foolish. Vulgarity is the crutch of weaker men. Now, you don’t want to tell me where the Ochre is? Fine. I’ll have the Vollrath suck it out of your head and your heart. What you know, we’ll know. I should’ve done that to begin with, but I wanted you to see my pretty face one more time. Just to let you know that you failed.”

“If the… Boss were alive… he’d skin you like a deer.”

“You mean, Konrad Zoladski?” Candlefly steps back, points to the wall behind him where the Boss sits perfectly still, hands folded in his lap like a ventriloquist’s dummy. Then the Boss hops off the chair like an eager child and walks over to the table. It takes a second to register on Pearl’s face. The look of shock is truly precious to Candlefly.

“B… boss.” That word comes out of Mookie’s mouth, and it is the sound of horror.

“Mookie,” the Boss says. “You disappoint me. I thought you were loyal.”

“I… I am. I didn’t–”

Candlefly nods. The Boss hits Mookie.

The old man hits hard. Harder than any old man has a right to hit, especially when punching some thug whose head is harder than a bowling ball. But Pearl’s head rocks back. His nose mashes flat. Blood pours.

Of course, the old man isn’t really the old man. Not entirely. Not anymore. Candlefly wonders if Mookie realizes that his old master is no longer human.

And never will be again.

Times like this, he wishes he were psychic. Cousin Hiram would come in handy in that instance, but Ernesto is not on speaking terms with most – all? – of the Bellbooks.

Mookie blubbers through blood. Hardly words. Just guttural utterances.

“We’re going to go now,” Candlefly says. “Soon as you have your wits about you – and what copious wits they are, as we’ve learned – we’ll be sending someone else downstairs to have a little chat with you. And then it’ll all be over.”

He pats Mookie atop his big bald head.

The Boss chuckles.

Mookie weeps.

Werth waits for Candlefly at the top of the cellar steps. Pacing. At the far end of the hall, Sorago watches him with those dead serpent eyes. Werth gives the Snakeface a nervous smile, then turns away.

The door clicks. Candlefly steps out.

Werth starts in: “You said Mookie was on the up-and-up. That he would have a chance. That, that, fuck – that we would all get on the same damn page. Candlefly, are you listening to–”

Werth’s breath lodges in his chest.

Candlefly steps aside and another figure emerges from the cellar.

The Boss.

The Boss.