28

      “Slow down,” Valkyrie muttered, following Skulduggery through twisting alleyways. “You’re being conspicuous.”

      Skulduggery glanced back at her. His façade this morning was of a pale man with arched eyebrows and a widow’s peak. He held his hat in his hand, but his black suit was exquisite and he did nothing to hide the confidence he demonstrated in his every step. Try as he might to disguise who he was, he was still drawing stares.

      “Much as it wounds my ego,” he said, “they’re not actually looking at me.”

      She frowned, turned her attention to the people they passed. He was right. It was her face that was widening eyes. It was her presence that was generating whispers.

      “How much further?” she asked, walking beside him now with her head down.

      “A few more turns.”

      He’d been up all night, but she was the one who was tired. Not for the first time, Valkyrie found herself envying his lack of a need for sleep. She had once loved sleep, had looked forward to being swallowed up by her slumber every night, but now sleep was something she chased. It was a furtive little animal that, even when caught, wriggled and scratched to free itself. And, of course, it brought with it the nightmares.

      They arrived at a door like every other door on this small street, and Skulduggery knocked.

      A small woman answered, a smile on her well-fed face.

      “Lillian Agog?” Skulduggery asked, extending his hand for her to shake. “Skulduggery Pleasant. This is my partner, Valkyrie Cain. We spoke on the phone. How do you do?”

      “I’m doing fine, Mr Pleasant,” said Lillian. “Come in, the both of you. Please excuse the mess. I’ve been rushed off my feet lately. Rushed right off them.”

      Skulduggery stepped in, and Valkyrie stepped in right after him. It was a very tidy house. Lillian led them into the small living room that smelled slightly of must and contentment, and they sat side by side on the couch.

      “You must think I’m awful,” said Lillian, going straight to the fireplace, “living in squalor like this. Squalor!”

      “Not at all,” Skulduggery said.

      “You’re too kind, Mr Pleasant! Too kind!”

      Lillian clicked her fingers, summoning fire into her hand, and tossed it on to the bundle of sticks and rolled-up newspaper in the hearth. Once the fire was roaring, she sank into her armchair, her eyes bright. “Now, don’t think me rude, but I’d heard you didn’t have a face.”

      “Ah,” Skulduggery said, and his façade flowed away, revealing the skull beneath.

      “Marvellous,” said Lillian, staring in wonder. “Simply marvellous. Do you ever get cold?”

      “I’m sorry?”

      “You don’t have any skin or anything. I’d imagine you’d get very cold this time of year.”

      “I don’t actually feel the cold. It’s one of the advantages of being a skeleton.”

      “Imagine that,” Lillian breathed. “You know, I’ve never spoken to a skeleton before. I’ve spoken to plenty of people, plenty of them, but never a skeleton. I’ve talked to tall people, and you’re quite tall, but I’ve talked to taller. And short people. Big people and small people. All kinds. But never someone like you. I bet you get asked all kinds of questions, don’t you? About death. About what happens after. Is there a heaven?”

      “I’m afraid I don’t know. Lillian, we’re here to talk to you about Richard Melior.”

      “Richard, yes,” said Lillian. “Lovely man. Just lovely. Oh! My manners! They seem to have abandoned me! Would either of you like some tea?”

      “No thank you,” said Valkyrie.

      “Coffee, then? I’m sure I can make you some coffee.”

      “I’m fine,” Valkyrie said. “We both are. About Richard …?”

      “Richard, yes,” said Lillian. “Lovely man.”

      “You got in touch with us,” Skulduggery said. “You had someone place a note on the windscreen of my car.”

      Lillian nodded. “I asked an old family friend who works at the High Sanctuary. I won’t give you his name, so you’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t want to get him into any trouble. Or her! It might be a her! I don’t want to get her into any trouble, either. He asked me to keep his name out of this, he’s very worried about overstepping marks, and he made me promise, he sat me down and made me promise, to never mention his name. And I said Brian, I said Brian, I’m not going to tell them who you are, you can trust me. He didn’t look entirely convinced that I wouldn’t let something slip, but I think I’ve handled it quite well, don’t you?”

      “Very,” Valkyrie said. Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. A message from her mother. She slid the phone back into her pocket. “So the note, it said you had information on Richard Melior’s whereabouts.”

      “Yes, indeed,” said Lillian. “I’ve known Richard for a long time, him and his husband. Both lovely men. Lovely. I saw him last night – Richard, that is, not Savant – and I sprang into action, is what I did. I asked Brian for a favour, I passed him the note and now you’re here.”

      “And Richard?” Skulduggery prompted.

      “I saw him enter an apartment building on Ironfoot Road. A blue door, it was.”

      “Ironfoot Road,” Skulduggery repeated, nodding. “That’s very helpful, Lillian. That’s exactly what we needed. Thank you.”

      Lillian waved away the words. “Oh, just doing my civic duty! Now, promise me you won’t burst in there and hurt him. He looked quite docile when I saw him. I’m sure he’ll come quietly.”

      “Unfortunately, we don’t have that option,” Skulduggery said. “He’s mixed up with some very bad people, and the last time we went to talk to him we barely made it out. I’m sorry to say that we’ll have to use extreme force. Maybe even deadly.”

      Lillian paled. “I’m sorry?”

      Skulduggery stood and put his hat back on. “But thanks for your help.”

      Lillian sprang to her feet, quite lithely for someone of her size. “Wait a moment! Now, just wait! Richard wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

      “He already tried to kill us once,” said Skulduggery. “He won’t get a second chance.”

      Skulduggery walked for the door, Lillian hurrying after him. Valkyrie got up slowly, watching it unfold.

      “He won’t hurt you!” Lillian insisted. “Just knock on the door! Tell him who you are! He’ll give himself up, I just know he will! Mr Pleasant, please!”

      “We’ll try to take him alive,” Skulduggery said, “but I can’t guarantee anything.”

      Lillian staggered, as if slapped.

      Valkyrie passed her. “Thank you for your assistance,” she said quietly.

      “Stop!” Lillian cried. “He told me to contact you!”

      They both turned. “Did he now?” Skulduggery asked.

      Lillian clasped her hands to her bosom, as if praying. “He’s scared,” she said. “You’re right, he’s mixed up with some bad people. He told me that.