He bridled at this. Assassins were never
‘What is it that I misunderstand, exactly?’ he said.
We pay. You find the ways and means.
The cowl began to fade.
‘How can I contact you?’ said Downey.
We will contact
The figure vanished. At the same moment the door was flung open to reveal the distraught figure of Mr Winvoe, the Guild Treasurer.
‘Excuse me, my lord, but I really had to come up!’ He flung some discs on the desk. ‘Look at them!’
Downey carefully picked up a golden circle. It looked like a small coin, but—
‘No denomination!’ said Winvoe. ‘No heads, no tails, no milling! It’s just a blank disc! They’re all just blank discs!’
Downey opened his mouth to say, ‘Valueless?’ He realized that he was half hoping that this was the case. If they, whoever
‘Blank discs,’ he said, ‘of pure gold.’
Winvoe nodded mutely.
‘That,’ said Downey, ‘will do nicely.’
‘It
Downey bounced the coin on the desk a couple of times. It made a satisfyingly rich thunking noise. It
Downey sat and thought, while Winvoe stood and worried.
‘We’ll take it,’ he said.
‘But—’
‘Thank you, Mr Winvoe. That is my decision,’ said Downey. He stared into space for a while, and then smiled. ‘Is Mister Teatime still in the building?’
Winvoe stood back. ‘I thought the council had agreed to dismiss him,’ he said stiffly. ‘After that business with—’
‘Mister Teatime does not see the world in quite the same way as other people,’ said Downey, picking up the picture from his desk and looking at it thoughtfully.
‘Well, indeed, I think
‘Please send him up.’
The Guild attracted all sorts of people, Downey reflected. He found himself wondering how it had come to attract Winvoe, for one thing. It was hard to imagine him stabbing anyone in the heart in case he got blood on the victim’s wallet. Whereas Mister Teatime …
The problem was that the Guild took young boys and gave them a splendid education and incidentally taught them how to kill, cleanly and dispassionately, for money and for the good of society, or at least that part of society that had money, and what other kind of society was there?
But very occasionally you found you’d got someone like Mister Teatime, to whom the money was merely a distraction. Mister Teatime had a truly brilliant mind, but it was brilliant like a fractured mirror, all marvellous facets and rainbows but, ultimately, also something that was broken.
Mister Teatime enjoyed himself too much. And other people, also.
Downey had privately decided that some time soon Mister Teatime was going to meet with an accident. Like many people with no actual morals, Lord Downey
On the other hand, Teatime’s corkscrew of a mind was exactly the tool to deal with something like this. And if he didn’t … well, that was hardly Downey’s fault, was it?
He turned his attention to the paperwork for a while. It was amazing how the stuff mounted up. But you had to deal with it. It wasn’t as though they were murderers, after all …
There was a knock at the door. He pushed the paperwork aside and sat back.
‘Come in, Mister Teatime,’ he said. It never hurt to put the other fellow slightly in awe of you.
In fact the door was opened by one of the Guild’s servants, carefully balancing a tea tray.
‘Ah, Carter,’ said Lord Downey, recovering magnificently. ‘Just put it on the table over there, will you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Carter. He turned and nodded. ‘Sorry, sir, I will go and fetch another cup directly, sir.’
‘What?’
‘For your visitor, sir.’
‘What visitor? Oh, when Mister Teati—’
He stopped. He turned.
There was a young man sitting on the hearthrug, playing with the dogs.
‘
‘It’s pronounced Teh-ah-tim-eh, sir,’ said Teatime, with just a hint of reproach. ‘Everyone gets it wrong, sir.’
‘How did you do
‘Pretty well, sir. I got mildly scorched on the last few feet, of course.’