at

the castle somewhere. A sort of party within a party. And he's highly

selective.

Only goes after those who are extremely rich and influential."

"Which would make me a logical candidate, I suppose," said Royce.

"Exactly. And I, of course, wouldn't have a hope of getting in without—"

"Without someone in my position to vouch for you," Royce finished for him.

"It's a great deal to ask, I know. I wouldn't blame you one bit if you were

to

refuse."

"Think nothing of it, old chap," said Royce. "You've done me a good turn, so

I'd

be only too glad to help. But I'm afraid that I don't really know this Carfax

fellow. I don't even have any idea what he looks like."

"I think we can fix that. Care to go and meet him?"

CHAPTER NINE

I wish there was something more that we could do," said Kira, pacing back and

forth across the room. "This waiting is driving me crazy."

"Now you know how a police detective feels," Blood said, "especially when

he's

pursuing a serial killer. When you've exhausted everything else, you're left

with waiting. Waiting for the killer to strike again so that you can see if

he's

left any clues for you to work on. On the one hand, you're hoping for

something

more to go on, but on the other, someone must die before that happens. And

there

you are, caught squarely in the middle and unable to do anything about it,

one

way or the other."

"There's nothing else we can do at the moment," Merlin said.

Wyrdrune noticed that he was now speaking almost entirely in Billy's voice,

the

main difference being Billy's Cockney accent. There was also the difference

in

their mannerisms, the most obvious one being that Billy smoked cigarettes and

Merlin still had a fondness for his pipe. At the moment he was stretched out

on

the couch, a large bowled briar with a deep curve to it clamped between his

teeth. He had packed it with his usual blend, a magical concoction that

smelled

different with every puff. He was always experimenting with it, never quite

able

to get it just right. He took the pipe out of his mouth and blew a succession

of

smoke rings that smelled like fresh-baked cinnamon-raisin buns.