“Sometimes I think he goes out of his way to make new ones,” said Eleanor, lighting another cigarette with a monogrammed gold Zippo lighter. “Just to put some spice into his life. Nothing puts a spring in his step and a gleam in his eye like a new enemy to do down, and destroy.”

“Any names in particular you’d care to throw into the pot?” I said.

“Well, the Authorities, of course,” said William.

“Because they wouldn’t let Daddy become a member of their private little club. Never did know why. You’d have thought they’d be perfect for each other. After all, they ran the Nightside, and he owned most of it. But of course, they’re all dead now…”

“I know,” I said. “I was there.”

Everyone in the Library looked at me sharply. Perhaps realising for the first time that some of the many scary things they’d heard about me might be true. And that not answering my questions might not be a good idea, after all. I have a bad reputation in the Nightside, and I’ve put a lot of work into maintaining it. Makes my life so much easier. Though I haven’t killed nearly as many people as everyone thinks.

“Well,” said William, a little uneasily, “I suppose Walker is our father’s main enemy now, inasmuch as anyone is. He’s running things in the Authority’s absence, inasmuch as anyone does.”

I nodded thoughtfully. Of course, Walker. That quiet, calm, and very civilised city gent who’d spent most of his life doing the Authorities’ dirty work. He could call on armies to back him up, or calm a riot with a single thoughtful look, and his every word and whim was law. When he used his Voice, no-one could deny him. They say he once made a corpse sit up on its mortuary slab and answer his questions. Walker had a history of being willing to do whatever it took to get the job done. And he wasn’t afraid of anyone.

We had worked together in the past, on occasion. But we were never what you’d call close. We didn’t approve of each other’s methods.

“Anyone else?” I said.

“You can add the name of anyone who’s ever done business with our father,” said Eleanor, tapping ash onto the priceless carpet, genuinely without thinking about it. “No-one ever shook hands with Daddy and walked away with all their fingers.”

“But none of them would have the balls to threaten him,” said William. “They might talk tough through their lawyers, but not one of them would dare strike at him directly. They know what he’s capable of. Remember Hilly Divine? Thought he could muscle Daddy out of his district by sending an army of mercenaries to storm the Hall?”

“What happened?” I said.

William smirked. “The jungle ate the mercenaries. And Daddy ate Hilly Divine. Over a period of months, I understand, bit by bit. Of course, that was back before we were born. He might have mellowed since then.”

“There are those who say some part of Hilly Divine is still alive, in some hidden dungeon under the Hall,” Eleanor said dreamily. “That Daddy still keeps him around, for special occasions. When he wants to serve something special at a celebratory banquet.”

“Never touch the finger snacks,” said William, still smirking. “Daddy’s had a lot of his enemies disappear…”

“Everyone’s afraid of our father,” Eleanor said shortly.

“No-one would dare touch Melissa because they know what he’d do in retaliation. Everyone in the Nightside bends the knee and bows the neck to Daddy Dearest because of what he could do and has done in the past.”

“I don’t,” I said.

Eleanor looked at me pityingly. “You’re here, aren’t you? You came when he called.”

“Not because I was frightened,” I said.

“No,” said Eleanor, studying me thoughtfully. “Maybe you aren’t, at that.” She seemed to find the prospect intriguing.

I looked at William. “Tell me about Melissa. How you feel about her. You don’t seem too upset about her being missing.”

“We’re not close,” said William, scowling heavily.

“Never have been. Daddy saw to that. Insisting she be brought up here, under his roof, ever since she was a baby, instead of with me and Gloria. For security reasons. Yeah, right. She would have been perfectly safe with us. But no, it had to be his way, like always. He wanted to be sure we wouldn’t turn her against him. He always has to be in control, of everything and everyone.”

“Even family?” I said.

“Family most of all,” said Eleanor.

“You could have stood up to your father,” I said to William.

It was his turn to look at me pityingly. “You don’t say no to Jeremiah Griffin. I don’t know why he was so keen to raise her himself,” said William. “It’s not as if he did such a great job raising us.”

“So you let him take your children,” I said. “Melissa, and Paul.”

“We had no choice!” said Eleanor, but all of a sudden she seemed too tired to be properly angry. She looked at the cigarette in her hand as though she had no idea what it was. “You have no idea what it’s like to have the Griffin as your father.”

“I might have made a mess of things,” said William, “but I would have liked to try and raise Melissa myself. Gloria didn’t care, but then Gloria’s never really been mommy material, have you, dear? I went along with Daddy because…well, because everyone does. He’s just…too big. You can’t argue with him because he’s always got an answer. You can’t argue with a man who’s lived lifetimes, because he’s always seen everything before, done everything before. I sometimes wonder what kind of a man I might have been if I’d had the good fortune to be born some other man’s son.”

“Not immortal,” I said.

“There is that, yes,” said William. “There’s always that.”

I liked him a little better for what he’d just said, but I still had to ask the next question. “Why did you wait until your seventh marriage to have children?”

His face hardened immediately, and suddenly I was the enemy again, to be defied at all costs. “None of your damned business.”

I looked at Eleanor, but she glared coldly back at me. I’d touched something in them, for a moment, but the moment had passed. So I looked at Gloria and Marcel, over in their far corner.

“Do either of you have anything to say?”

Gloria and Marcel looked at their respective spouses and shook their heads. They had nothing to say. Which was pretty much what I’d expected.

I left the four of them in the Library, shut the door carefully behind me, and turned to Hobbes. “There’s still one member of the family I haven’t seen. Paul Griffin.”

“Master Paul never sees anyone,” Hobbes said gravely. “But you can talk to him, if you wish.”

“You’re really getting on my tits, Hobbes.”

“All part of the service, sir. Master Paul rarely leaves his bedroom, these days. Those troublesome teenage years…He communicates occasionally through the house telephone, and the servants leave his meals outside his door. You can try talking to him through the door. He might respond to a new voice.”

So back down the corridors to the elevator, and up to the top floor again. I hadn’t done so much walking in years. If I had to come back to the Hall again, I’d bring a bicycle with me. We ended up before another closed bedroom door. I knocked, very politely.

“This is John Taylor, Paul,” I said, in my best non-threatening I’m only here to help voice. “Can I talk to you, Paul?”

“You can’t come in!” said a high-pitched, almost shrill teenage voice. “The door’s locked! And protected!”

“It’s all right, Paul,” I said quickly. “I just want to talk. About Melissa’s disappearance.”

“She was taken,” said Paul. He sounded as though he was right on the other side of the door. He didn’t sound…troubled, or sensitive. He sounded scared.

“They came and took her away, and no-one could stop them. She’s probably dead by now. They’ll come for me next. You’ll see! But they’ll never find me…because I won’t be here.”