‘Oh, um, I don’t know,’ said Jemma. ‘I mean, he’s already banished.’ Then a thought occurred to her. ‘Hang on, is he a member of the Guild any more? Can you punish him?’
‘Once a member, always a member,’ said Armand Dupont. ‘What do you feel is appropriate?’
Jemma bit her lip. That applies to me, too. I’ll always be a member of the Guild. She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or worried. ‘His punishment should stop him doing things like this,’ she said. ‘He is very old.’ She remembered how he had been silenced by her pencil. ‘And quite weak,’ she added.
‘That is true,’ said Armand Dupont. ‘But as we can see, still capable of venom. Raphael, what do you think?’
‘I agree with Jemma,’ said Raphael, giving Brian a pitying look. ‘When Brian had power, he used it to attempt to overthrow and destroy. He acted in his own interests, not those of the Guild. But I believe we should be as merciful as we possibly can.’
‘I concur,’ said the phone. ‘Brian, this is my decision. You may no longer approach or speak to another Guild member or associate, whether face to face or by means of technology. I shall also prevent you from handling books or communications technology with any malign intent. If you attempt it, you will suffer. Do I make myself clear?’
Already Brian seemed smaller, more wizened and shrunken. ‘Yes,’ he croaked.
‘Good,’ said Armand Dupont. ‘Those measures are in force as of now.’ He snapped his fingers.
Brian shrieked and hid his face. He peeped at Raphael and Jemma, screamed, and hobbled into the back room as fast as his legs could carry him. The curtain rippled for a moment, and then the folds settled and became motionless, as if Brian had been swallowed by a merciless sea.
Jemma and Raphael looked at each other, then at the phone. ‘That seems to have worked,’ said Raphael.
‘Yes,’ said Armand Dupont. ‘I apologise for that letter, by the way. I was dealing with an incident in a library in Paris, you see, and you caught me at a bad time. Now I see what has been going on, I completely understand. Skulduggery is absolutely a tactic of the Guild, but not when it undermines our own business.’
‘Quite,’ said Raphael. ‘Well, now that’s all settled, Jemma and I might have lunch.’
For the first time, Armand Dupont’s face showed strong emotion. ‘You haven’t had lunch? What were you thinking of? How could you even contemplate undertaking tasks such as this on an empty stomach? Go and remedy this matter immediately. Oh yes, and it was nice to meet you … Jemma, was it?’
‘That’s right,’ said Jemma. ‘Jemma James.’
‘Jemma James. I shall remember. Go and have a nice lunch, and don’t forget to charge it to expenses.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Are you in Hay-on-Wye?’
‘Yes,’ said Jemma, ‘we are.’
‘Ah, Hay-on-Wye…’ A dreamy expression came over his face. ‘Oh, to be browsing, free from care.’ He smiled, and suddenly looked younger still. ‘Enjoy your afternoon. Au revoir.’ His face disappeared, replaced by a blank screen.
Jemma stared at Raphael. ‘Is that it? We’ve done it?’
‘No,’ said Raphael. ‘We haven’t done it. You’ve done it. You did pretty much all of it. You noted unusual phenomena, alerted your manager, and detected and removed misused knowledge sources without personal protective equipment.’ He held up his pencil, and a faint wail came from the back room. ‘You tracked down a felon, bore effective witness using a Pencil of Truth, and recommended mercy, as an Assistant Keeper should.’ He sighed. ‘You do realise this means I shall have to write a report, don’t you.’
‘But not yet,’ said Jemma. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’ She noticed, with great relief, that the fear and apprehension she had felt earlier had completely vanished. ‘I feel better than I have in weeks.’
‘You know what,’ said Raphael, ‘so do I.’
‘We must tell the others,’ said Jemma, as they walked along the main street, looking for restaurants.
‘Oh yes,’ said Raphael. ‘But not until we’ve ordered.’
Chapter 21
Carl appeared from behind one of the screens which was acting as the wings, and faced the applauding audience. ‘We will now have a half-hour interval. Refreshments are available from the café.’ He waved a hand at the café counter, towards which Giulia was hurrying. ‘The bathrooms are in the corner. I’ll come out again and give you a five-minute warning to resume your seats. Thank you for your attention.’
‘It’s going well, isn’t it?’ Raphael murmured to Jemma.
She beamed with pride. ‘Yes, it is. I’ll nip backstage and check on Carl. I don’t suppose you could get me a cappuccino?’
Raphael stood up and stretched. ‘On it,’ he said, and ambled over to the forming queue.
Jemma nudged Luke, who was sitting on her other side. ‘What do you think?’ she whispered.
‘What? Oh yes, it’s very good. Isn’t it, Maddy?’
Maddy looked enraptured, although Jemma suspected that was more to do with sitting next to Luke than the premiere of Carl’s play. ‘Oh yes, it’s delightful.’
‘I’ll pass that on to Carl,’ said Jemma. ‘See you after the interval.’
Maddy’s right, she thought. It’s really, really good. And thoroughly deserved; they’ve worked so hard on it.
Now that things were running more smoothly at the Friendly Bookshop, she had attended a few rehearsals as an ‘average spectator’. ‘I want this to be the sort of play that anyone could enjoy,’ Carl had said. ‘Not just people who go to the theatre all the time and know what to expect. I want someone who maybe goes once a year or less to get something out of this play.’ He looked rather fierce as he said it.
‘Well, that’s me,’ Jemma had replied. ‘I can’t remember the last time I went to the theatre.’ She thought for a moment. ‘That ought to change. Now the bookshop is behaving more or less as it should, I can have hobbies. I can go out in the evening and enjoy myself.’ She gave him a playful nudge. ‘That’s if I can get you to come with me, of course, when you’re not rehearsing.’
Carl had laughed. ‘I daresay I’ll be at a loose end soon enough. We’re only doing three performances, then we’ll probably be hustling again.’ But somehow, Jemma suspected he wouldn’t have to hustle too hard.
She walked to the screen and stuck her head round it. ‘Is it OK to come in?’
Carl turned. ‘Do you think it’s going all right?’
Jemma spread her hands. ‘Didn’t you hear the applause? Didn’t you hear them laughing in all the places you wanted them to?’
Carl looked slightly less anxious. ‘I suppose. But I worry.’
‘Of course,’ said Jemma, ‘and that’s normal, but everyone’s enjoying it.’ She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. ‘You’ve done such a brilliant job. Your first play, and the audience love it.’