Читать книгу The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf - Martin Millar - Страница 11

CHAPTER 5

The funeral service at the abbey had been a splendid affair, reassuringly traditional and full of ceremonial flourishes. As the burial proceeded at the cemetery in Chelsea, there was general satisfaction among the assembled mourners, many of them fellow members of the aristocracy, that the Countess of Nottingham had received a fitting send-off. The late afternoon sun lent an unexpected warmth to the proceedings, and the mood among the mourners as they made their way from the grave was not overly somber. The Countess had been very elderly, in poor health for a long time, and her death had not come as a surprise.

“A nice funeral,” said Mr. Carmichael on the slow walk back to the car park. “The Countess would have been pleased.”

Both of his companions nodded. They had been impressed by the ceremony and the rank of many of the guests. Mr. Carmichael, chairman of the board of the Avenaris Guild, was a well-connected man. He had good reason to be at the Countess of Nottingham’s funeral. She’d had an association with the werewolf hunters’ guild for many years.

Mr. Carmichael nodded politely to one of the Countess’s sons, himself a wealthy man in the city, who paused nearby as his wife dabbed her eyes with a tiny lace handkerchief.

“Do we have the money?” asked Mr. Eggers.

Mr. Carmichael frowned, not quite liking the tone of the question. “Show a little respect, Mr. Eggers. “We’re still at the funeral.”

“Sorry.”

They waited patiently outside the car park as the crowd dispersed.

“But yes, we do have the money,” said Mr. Carmichael softly.

The legacy from the Countess had been expected, but its size had been a surprise. The Countess of Nottingham had made donations to the Avenaris Guild for many years. She believed that her youngest son had been killed by a werewolf in Scotland, many years ago. Mr. Carmichael had never been certain that this was actually the case, but the Guild accepted the money gratefully. Now the Countess had left them a large sum, which could hardly have come at a better time. The Guild had been hit by a recent severe downturn in the markets and had seen many of its investments shrink alarmingly. There had been talk at headquarters of laying people off, and even suspending operations in some areas of the country, but now the mood had changed. Bolstered by the huge sum left them by the Countess, the Guild had plans to expand.

As the crowd thinned, Mr. Carmichael and his companions made their way to their vehicles. As a family friend, Mr. Carmichael had been invited to the post-funeral reception at the Countess’s town house in Chelsea. Carmichael was a little impatient at the thought of this. He had a hankering to be getting on with business. It wasn’t only financially that the Guild had suffered recently. The MacRinnalch werewolves, their eternal enemies, had bested them again. The Guild had lost some good hunters. Mr. Carmichael had come under pressure. His position as head of the Guild was again being questioned. Strong action was necessary, and with the arrival of the Countess’s money, action could now be taken.

“I’ll be back later in the evening,” Mr. Carmichael told Mr. Eggers. “Make sure you have the final list drawn up by then. I want the new hunters in as soon as possible.”

Mr. Eggers nodded. Although he would have been rather pleased to have been asked to the reception, he was as keen as Mr. Carmichael to press on with their mission. The werewolves may have scored some successes against them in recent months, but that was soon going to change.