‘Adeptus Exemptus Raphael Winter,’ I said instead, ‘do you know everyone in the Order?’
‘There are thousands. Of course not.’
I arched an eyebrow. ‘You strike me as the kind of person with his finger on the pulse.’ Truthfully, I’d imagined him being conscientious enough to pore over the names, photos and identities of each and every Order witch. He seemed that kind of person.
Winter sighed. ‘Who is it you’re looking for?’ His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Do you want to know more about Philosophus Villeneuve?’
He was referring to Tarquin. I shook my head. ‘No. Do you know Alice Fairclough?’
‘Second Level Adeptus Minor,’ he answered instantly.
Ha! I knew he’d be aware of her. ‘And what kind of person is she?’
‘I know her name, Ms Wilde. I don’t know her shoe size or whether she’s an adept witch or not. She is Second Level, however, so I assume her abilities are reasonable.’
It appeared that Winter lived and died by the Order’s hierarchy. He wasn’t denying knowledge of her; if he had anything to do with her shenanigans at Eve’s, I’d have expected him to deny having heard of her. ‘Does she have a partner?’ I enquired. ‘Or a mentor?’
‘Adeptus Exemptus Diall.’
Hmm. Something about Winter’s tone suggested that he didn’t think much of Diall. That was interesting.
‘How about Matthew Bellham? Have you heard of him?’
Winter turned to me. ‘What exactly is all this about?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘I have not heard of him.’
Probably because Bell End was First Level and beneath Winter’s consideration. I nodded amiably. ‘Thanks.’ Winter looked shocked. ‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘You thanked me. You have manners after all.’ He shook his head melodramatically. ‘I never would have believed such a thing were possible.’
I suppressed a grin. ‘Hey, if you want manners, then you’ve got manners.’ I dipped into a low curtsey, just as the door opened and a tired-looking witch peered out. ‘The Ipsissimus will see you now.’
Winter pushed off the wall. ‘Excellent.’ He walked in through the open door. ‘Come on, Ms Wilde.’
I coughed. ‘I need a bit of help.’ I was still in the curtsey. Unfortunately I’d over-estimated how low I could go without toppling over or requiring a hand up. I blamed the gym session yesterday; my muscles were still in agony.
Winter looked as if he were trying very hard not to laugh.
The other witch offered his hand. I grabbed it gratefully. ‘Note to self,’ I muttered. ‘Perform fewer acts of obeisance.’
‘This is why you need to get fit.’ Winter smirked and headed in. I glared at his back. Yeah, maybe he had a point. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
***
This time around, we weren’t in the grand meeting room but in the Ipsissimus’s study. I could only imagine that Winter had suggested this meeting should be conducted in private so that we didn’t accuse him of stealing from his own Order in front of all his minions. He was seated behind a grand desk, with a delicate china teacup in front of him. There was also a toweringly large pile of paper. Somehow, I didn’t think it would be fun to have his job.
Winter and I took our places in front of the desk. I opened my mouth to speak but received a hard jab in my ribs and an irritated glare. Miming a zip, I closed my mouth once more. Yeah, yeah. Winter could do all the talking if he was that desperate.
The Ipsissimus took off his half-moon spectacles and looked at us. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘First of all,’ Winter began, ‘thank you very much for coming in at this early hour to talk to us.’
The Ipsissimus gestured at the paper in front of him. ‘It’s no trouble. I might as well come in early and make a start on this lot.’ He smiled pleasantly, although there was a hard questioning expression in his eyes. ‘Have you made any headway with the theft of the sceptre?’
‘We have made some progress,’ Winter answered. ‘There’s nothing concrete to report yet but I’ll write up our findings this evening to keep you abreast.’