CHAPTER 17
“I suppose offering you a drink would be pointless,” Sir Charles said.
They’d repaired to his study for ‘a quiet chat.’
“And then there’s your age, of course,” he added, looking at Derrick.
“Belvedere vodka?” Mike said. “It’s flavored water to me.”
“Vodka,” Sir Charles said, looking at his footman.
“Sir,” he said, pouring the drink. “Would Beluga be acceptable?”
“Fine,” Mike said.
“And Mister Sterrenhunt?”
“Mineral water,” Derrick said. “Flat.”
“Of course, sir,” the footman said.
When the drinks were served, he politely exited.
“Vodka,” Sir Charles said. “Bit Russian isn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” Mike said, touching the drink to his lips without sipping.
“Still worried we’ll try to kill you?” Sir Charles said, smiling slightly.
“I do this when I’m eating food at home that I’ve cooked,” Mike said.
“He does,” Derrick added.
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