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"Follow me," Inspector Luncardy instructed, turning on her heel and striding briskly towards the door. The two coppers how had watched silently while she and I had sparred now followed her unhesitatingly. I shrugged, pushed back the stackable chair with much squeaking of the tiled floor, picked up my hat and followed her out of the interview room. The female officer had such drive, such focus, and so little time for the niceties of civilised life. It seemed I was just another one of her minions, now. Mind you, she did seem to engender that kind of unquestioning obedience that was impressive, even for one as insouciantly insubordinate as I. As I emerged from the door, I caught sight of Luncardy stood at the corner of the corridor, looking back at me with an expression of faint surprise on her face. "Are you coming?" she asked. As if she really had to. I hurried after her, darting between the police officers typing their reports, barking into telephones or just goofing off with their feet on the desks. I reached her office only a few moments after the last of her squad had squeezed in. It was just as well Luncardy kept her office uncluttered; with this many Goblins packed into the room, any extraneous junk would have resulted in papers all over the floor. I have to admit I was impressed by Luncardy's organisational abilities. She issued a long series of instructions in a firm clean voice, instructions which were so clear and obvious that there were few questions and fewer complaints from the force assembled in front of her. One of the few questions was one of my own. "What do you want me to do, Inspector?" "Stick close to me," she said off-handedly, "You're just an observer, a civilian. I may need your advice during the operation. But you're not, under any circumstances, to take action yourself. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, Ma'am." The words came to me automatically. As the squad filed out of the room, Luncardy took me on one side. "I think we should give ourselves a bargaining chip," she said, "Take Argaty Dupplin with us." "But she's an old Goblin," I protested, "Ancient. Very frail. She's in no condition to get involved in anything like this." Luncardy rolled her eyes. "Oh, she won't come to any harm," she replied dismissively, "Don't be such an old woman. I just want her there in case I need her to talk to her granddaughter. I'll send a couple of my Goblins to pick her up." "Well, okay then," I agreed grudgingly, "But you're going to need a wheelchair. And blankets. And another pair of sunglasses. No, two pairs of sunglasses." "Two pairs?" "Yes," I countered, "One pair for her, and one for me." As it happened, the sunglasses weren't actually necessary, at least initially. By the time we emerged from the Lower realms exit set in the arches under the railway station, it was already dark, at least by the standards of humans. A mismatched fleet of vehicles was waiting for us, drawn up in a row along the kerb: a white van with rust spots showing through its paintwork, a new-looking Mercedes estate with blacked-out windows, and a couple of anonymous-looking hatchbacks which could have been manufactured at any time in the last ten years. Rather than the lengthy and, quite frankly, slightly risky train journey I had used on my first visit, this time we would travel in style, or at least with speed. Not comfort, though; my stomach was already protesting at the prospect of being driven at full tilt by a lunatic Goblin driver. Following Luncardy, I was directed towards a yellow Mini traveller at the head of the convoy which, belatedly, I realised I recognised. "Gask!" a familiar yet unwelcome voice sounded, "I should have known."
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Part 81