-S. FREUD
“HI, CHUMLEY. MIND if I come in?”
The troll looked up from his book, and his enormous mouth twisted into a grin of pleasure.
“Skeeve, old boy!” he said. “Certainly. As a matter of fact, I’ve been expecting you.”
“Really?” I said, stepping into his room and looking around for somewhere to sit.
“Yes. I ran into Guido this morning, and he explained the situation to me. He said you were going to be calling on me for a bit of work. I was just killing time waiting for the official word, is all.”
I wondered if the briefing my bodyguard had given Chumley was any more detailed than what he had told me.
“It’s all right with you, then?” I said. “You don’t mind?”
“Tish tosh. Think nothing of it,” the troll said. “Truth to tell, I’ll be glad to have a specific assignment again. I’ve been feeling a bit at loose ends lately. In fact, I was starting to wonder why I was staying around at all.”
That touched a nerve in me. It had been some time since I had even stopped by to say ‘Hello’ to Chumley.
“Sorry if I’ve been a bit distant,” I said guiltily. “I’ve been . . . busy . . . and . . .”
“Quite right,” Chumley said with a grin and a wink. “Caught a glimpse of your workload when you rolled in the other night. Bit of all right, that.”
I think I actually blushed.
“No really,” I stammered. “I’ve been . . .”
“Relax, old boy,” the troll waved. “I was just pulling your leg a bit. I know you’ve been up against it, what with the Queen after you and all. By the by, I’ve got a few thoughts on that, but I figured it would be rude to offer advice when none had been asked for.”