Master, said Ootapi one rainy afternoon. You have been too long idle, and it sours your temper. You require an occupation.
‘Quite,’ said Konrad, with a curl of his lip. ‘Not nearly enough people are being murdered. It is highly inconvenient of everybody to keep breathing in this detestably ceaseless fashion.’
Eetapi drifted closer, her chill, incorporeal presence causing the hairs on the back of Konrad’s neck to rise. Her voice whispered in his mind, in the mournful tones of funeral bells: Shall I kill someone for you, Master?
Konrad closed his newspaper with a snap. ‘A commendable thought, dear serpent, but you overlook one or two important details. One being that, if I am informed ahead of time as to the identity of the culprit, the search will not occupy me for very long. Two, since you are possessed of neither a body nor, strictly speaking, a soul, my customary response to the crime would not be required. I am afraid the idea, meritorious as it is, will not suit our purposes today.’
Eetapi vibrated with disappointment and slunk away, coiling her ethereal serpentine body into a sulky spiral in the corner of the study. To Konrad’s annoyance, he experienced a flicker of guilt.
Ootapi was in no hurry to relinquish the idea. I will hire someone, he decided.
