Blunt joined the rest of his team, on the floor.

Butler ignored the pain squashing his torso like a giant fist. Instead he listened for movement. There was nothing locally, just the scratch of lobster claws on the tiles. And if one of the lobsters decided to attack,

Artemis was on his own.

Nothing more could be done. Either Artemis was safe, or he was not. If not, Butler was in no condition to fulfil the terms of his contract.

This realization brought tremendous calm. No more responsibility. Just his own life to live, for a few seconds at any rate. And anyway, Artemis wasn’t just a principal. He was part of the bodyguard’s life. His only true friend. Madame Ko might not like this attitude, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now. There wasn’t much anybody could do.

Artemis had never liked desserts. And yet, he found himself submersed in eclairs, cheesecake and pavlova. His suit would be absolutely destroyed. Of course, Artemis’s brain was only throwing up these facts so he could avoid thinking about what had happened. But a ninety-kilogram deadweight is a hard thing to ignore.

Luckily for Artemis, Butler’s impact had actually driven him through to the trolley’s second shelf, while the bodyguard remained on the ice-cream ledge above. As far as Artemis could tell, the Black Forest gateau had cushioned his impact sufficiently to avoid serious internal injury. Still, he had no doubt that a visit to the chiropractor would be called for.

Possibly for Butler too, though the man had the constitution of a troll.

Artemis struggled out from underneath his manservant. With each movement, malignant cream horns exploded in his direction.

‘Really, Butler,’ grumbled the teenager. ‘I must begin choosing my business associates more carefully. Hardly a day goes by when we aren’t the victims of some plot.’