The Golem's Eye

out—you being a promising lad—about a certain proposition."
    "I would be honored to hear it, sir."
    "It goes without saying of course," Mr. Makepeace said, "that the contents of this little talk will be for us alone. It could do us both great harm if a word of it were breathed beyond these four walls. You have a reputation for being just as intelligent as you are young and spry, Mandrake; I'm sure that you understand."
    "Of course, sir." Nathaniel composed his features into a mask of polite attention. Beneath this, he was perplexed, if flattered. Why the playwright had now accosted him in such secrecy, Nathaniel could not imagine. Mr. Makepeace's close friendship with the Prime Minister was widely spoken of, but Nathaniel had never thought that the author was much of a magician himself. In fact, on the basis of viewing a couple of the plays he had considered it unlikely: privately, Nathaniel considered them appalling potboilers.
    "First, congratulations are in order," Mr. Makepeace said. "The renegade afrit is gone—and I believe your djinni played a part in its removal. Well done! You may be sure the P.M. has taken notice. It is in fact on account of this that I have come to you this evening. Someone of your efficiency may be able to help me in a tricky problem."
    He paused, but Nathaniel said nothing. It was best to be cautious when confiding in a stranger. Makepeace's objectives were not yet clear.
    "You were at the abbey this morning," Mr. Makepeace went on, "and you listened to the debate among the Council. It would not have escaped your notice that our friend the Police Chief, Mr. Duvall, has attained great influence."
    "Yes, sir."
    "As commander of the Graybacks, he has long been in a position of considerable power, and he makes no secret of his desire to gain more. He has already used the current disturbances to gain authority at the expense of your master, Ms. Whitwell."
    "I've noticed some such rivalry," Nathaniel said. He did not think it prudent to say more.
    "Very carefully put, Mandrake. Now, as a personal friend of Rupert Devereaux, I don't mind telling you that I've been viewing Duvall's behavior with a good deal of concern. Ambitious men are dangerous, Mandrake. They destabilize things. Boorish, uncivilized individuals such as Duvall—it will shock you to learn he has never attended one of my premieres in his life—are the worst of all, since they have no respect for their colleagues. Duvall has been building up his power base for years, keeping in with the P.M., while undermining other senior figures at the same time. His vaunting ambition has long been obvious. Recent events, such as the unfortunate demise of our friend Tallow, have greatly unsettled our senior ministers, and this perhaps gives Duvall further opportunity to take advantage. In fact—and I don't mind telling you this, Mandrake, since you're so uncommonly clever and loyal—with the amount of power Duvall now has, I fear rebellion."
    Perhaps because of his background in theater, Mr. Makepeace had a peculiarly lively way of talking: his voice fluted high and tremulous, then dived to become low and resonating. Despite his caution, Nathaniel was fascinated; he leaned in closer.
    "Yes, my boy, you heard correctly: rebellion is what I fear, and as Mr. Devereaux's most loyal friend, I am anxious to prevent it. I am looking for allies in this regard. Jessica Whitwell is powerful, of course, but we do not get on. She is no great lover of the theater. But you, Mandrake, you are rather more my type. I've followed your career for quite some time, ever since that unfortunate Lovelace affair, in fact, and I think we might do admirably well together."
    "That is very kind of you, sir," Nathaniel said slowly. His mind was afire: this was what he'd been waiting for—a direct line to the Prime Minister. Ms. Whitwell was no true ally; she'd already made it clear that she planned to sacrifice his career. Well, if he played this carefully, he might gain rapid advancement. Perhaps he didn't need her protection, after all.
    But this was dangerous territory. He had to be on his guard. "Mr. Duvall is a formidable opponent," he said blandly. "It is a dangerous thing to act against him."
    Mr. Makepeace smiled. "How very true. But haven't you already been doing something along those lines? I believe you paid a visit to the Public Records Office this afternoon—and then set off at speed to an obscure address in Balham."
    The words were casual, but they