“Your advice is welcome, but while so many eyes are on us you’re the biggest danger here. We tried our best, but dozens of people from today’s drill know enough to leak that something happened here. Normally I let you visit on condition that you’re no threat to our work, but if the media catches Mycroft Canner here you’ll be a bigger story than Sniper.” “Canner?” Carlyle repeated it, half-voiced. “Mycroft … Canner?” I turned. I turned white. We had tried so hard, reader. ‘Mycroft,’ ‘Mycroft,’ never the dreaded surname, not in front of this good innocent. Three days of purloined trust.
