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Butler shot one of the half dozen diners a fierce glare, just in case she might be planning something. The woman must have been at least eighty.
“No, mademoiselle, I would not like to see the children’s menu. I have no doubt that the children’s menu itself tastes better than the meals on it. I would like to order à la carte. Or don’t you serve fish to minors?”
And Artemis wondered who would want to kill him? Most of the waiters and tailors in Europe, for a start.
One of them had to be professional.
Unfortunately for Mulch, it was Artemis who volunteered to prepare it for him. He emerged from the pantry with something that resembled nothing so much as an explosion on a plate.
“You’re right, of course. I am the mastermind here. Thinking is my responsibility, not yours.”
He was basing his performance on the effect Butler usually had on people.
Of course, Holly could simply have mesmerized the bodyguard, but after what he had done to Butler, a blasting seemed more appropriate.
Pex had shouted at the walnut for a few minutes, then flattened it between his giant palms. Chips had opted for a more controversial method. He placed the walnut on the table, grabbed his interviewer by the ponytail, and used the man’s forehead to smash the nut.
They were not allowed outside Chicago, as this could involve map reading, something Pex and Chips were not very good at.
Plus, they were unaccustomed to prospective victims saying anything besides, “Oh no, please God, no.”
But that was part of the job; you just ignored that by turning up the music in your head.
“Yeah, that was it. Tell you the truth, those words kinda ruined it for me.”
Holly smiled in spooky imitation of Artemis. “That’s not in the plan. And we must stick to the plan, now mustn’t we?”
In fact, he only came out of his quiet place to pulverize whoever was threatening Artemis at the time.
Spiritually had five syllables, for heaven’s sake.
“Exactly. I think we’re getting to know one another too well.”
“Farewell, Jon,” he whispered. “Never mess with a boy genius.”
