"So Michael Blood," he said softly to himself, "you wanted a challenge. Now

you've damn well got one. What are you going to do about it?"

Shavers knocked at his office door again and stuck his head in.

"Yes, Danny, what is it?"

"Uh..." Shavers cleared his throat uneasily. "There's a... uh... a lad to see

you, sir."

Blood frowned. "A lad? What do you mean, a lad? You mean a child?"

"Uh... well... sort of a child, I suppose," said Shavers awkwardly.

Blood raised his eyebrows. This was not at all like Shavers, who was normally

unflappable. "Sort of a child?" He shrugged. "Well, send him in, then, and

we'll

see what sort he is."

The door opened and Billy Slade came in.

CHAPTER FOUR

Jacqueline Marie-Lisette de Charboneau Monet, whose name was pronounced

"Zha-kleen" and who preferred not to be called Jackie, was in her late

forties,

yet she had the body of a woman in her twenties. A very fit woman. Despite

her

athletic build, she chain-smoked un-filtered French cigarettes that smelled

like

a forest fire and slugged down 180-proof Russian vodka from a silver hip

flask

she kept in her purse. She wore an expensive, Neo-Edwardian maroon velvet

suit

with tight trousers tucked into high boots, a high collar and lace trim, all

exquisitely tailored to flatter her slim figure. Her hair was dark, heavily

shot

through with gray, and she wore it shoulder-length, loose and casual. Her

voice

was a husky, whiskey baritone, only slightly accented; her English was

flawless;

and she had the manner of a regimental sergeant major. Makepeace fell in love

with her at once.

She met them at Heathrow Airport and had a limo waiting to take them to their

hotel, the Dorchester in Park Lane. The same hotel Modred had disappeared

from.

On the way in, between manic puffs on her cigarette, slam-dunks with the

flask,

and sharply barked commands to the chauffeur to watch what the hell he was

doing, she filled them in on what she had managed to discover.

"The last place he was seen was at the Dorchester," she said. "Watch what

you're

doing, idiot!" (This last remark was to the chauffeur, who was so nervous at

having such a volatile passenger that he was having trouble maintaining his

levitation and impulsion spells.) "He checked in shortly after noon,"