He watches as Fordingbridge endures his punishment and decides that, if nothing else, the wretched creature is learning to accept painful penalties as his due. He does not cry out when the skin on his hands starts to bubble and bulge but rather stares at them, almost fascinated to witness his own torment. It is only when the agony inflicted by the phantom burrowing worms reaches the tender areas of his neck and his face that he emits a pitiful, high, whining noise. Stricklend judges the point has been made and reverses the spell. Fordingbridge gasps, taking some moments to regain his composure. When he has done so he swallows hard.

“Well?” Stricklend asks. “Have you nothing to say to me?”

“Thank you, master!” he splutters. “Thank you.”

The permanent private secretary nods, satisfied, and dismisses his clerk with a wave of his hand.

Chapter 4

4.

I allow Withers to help me from the hansom cab and instruct the driver to wait for us. He is predictably reluctant to linger in such a street, but a few extra coins persuade him it is worth the risk. In fact the place I ask him to halt is some way from Mr. Chow Li’s house. Shame enough that a stranger should be involved in recovering my brother at all. There is no necessity for him to see the actual premises. Or its clientele.