The MLEs – Magical Law Enforcement agents – knew me by sight, so when I walked in with a felon there was generally a lot of interest. Probably this was because my captures often involved embarrassing or messy situations, like that time I'd brought in a man covered in bees. That hadn't been my fault, though. He'd already been covered in bees when I found him.

“You-” I managed, but she said, “Dammit,” loudly and then pushed past me, disappearing into the crowd.

“Did you see that?” I asked, but Scorpius and Ramses weren't paying me any attention. The two of them were busily making snuffling growls at each other now, probably imitating a bull. Scorpius obviously hadn't seen a thing.

“Realism can have just as much meaning,” Scorpius argued. “Meaning is ascribed by the viewer, not the artist. We can't control how much, if any, meaning is found in our art.”

“Of course we can,” said Haven. “I always hand out pamphlets.”

Any self-respecting magical community had pubs populated at all hours by wizards and witches of questionable character. Often these people were relatives of mine.

“I have enough evidence to hold you.”

“I was only there watching. I didn't do anything.” My stomach felt like a block of ice inside me. The hope that I'd talk my way out of this after all was looking pretty dim.

“I don't wanna be found out at the racetrack, okay?”

“Out at the racetrack?” I echoed.

He looked worried and said out the side of his mouth, “You know. Where they dump the bodies.”

“Got it.” I nodded. “You don't mind me lying to him?”

“Might as well play to your strengths,” my father said.

“I'm going to show them my badge and tell them I'll hex them into next week if they don't tell me what I need to know,” Dad informed her.

I was sure Mum would object to that, on any number of grounds: he didn't have jurisdiction in the United States, attacking them would be illegal, threatening people to get your way is morally wrong, something like that. Mum's usually full of that kind of thing. But instead she just said, “All right. Let's go.”

Scorpius flopped down next to me. “Look at him, like a little angel.”

“The little devil,” I agreed.

“You'd never think he'd been screaming his head off half the day.” Scorpius kicked off his shoes and stretched out his legs on the coffee table.