Don’t let it show on your face, thought Mulch. Don’t let them see.
“No. It’s . . . eh . . . that’s quite a setup. I can see alarm boxes and outdoor spots. It’s not going to be easy.”
“If it was easy, I’d do it myself,” said Carla.
Loafers took a step forward, looking down at Mulch.
“What’s the matter, little man? Too tough for you?”
Mulch was forced to think on his feet. If Carla Frazetti thought he wasn’t up to the job, then they would send somebody else. Somebody with no qualms about leading the Mob to Artemis’s door. Mulch was surprised to realize that he couldn’t let that happen. The Irish boy had saved his life during the goblin rebellion, and was the closest thing he had to a friend. Which was pretty pathetic when you thought about it. He had to take the job, if only to make sure that it didn’t go according to plan.
“Hey, don’t worry about me. The building hasn’t been built that Mo Digence can’t crack. I just hope Loafers is man enough for the job.”
Loafers grabbed the dwarf by the lapels. “What’s that supposed to mean, Digence?”
Mulch generally avoided insulting people who were likely to kill him, but it might be useful to establish Loafers as a hothead now. Especially if he was going to blame him for things going wrong later.
“It’s one thing being a midget monkey, but a midget metal man? How good can you be at close quarters?”
Loafers dropped the dwarf, ripping open his own shirt. His chest was a rippling tapestry of tattoos. “That’s how good I am, Digence. Count the tattoos. Count ’em.”
Mulch shot Carla a loaded look. The look said, You’re going to trust this guy?
“That’s enough!” said Carla. “The testosterone in here is starting to stink worse than the walls. This is a very important job. If you two can’t handle it, I’ll bring in another team.”
Loafers buttoned his shirt.
“Okay, Miss Frazetti. We can handle it. This job is as good as done.”
Carla stood, brushing a couple of centipedes from the hem of her jacket. The insects didn’t bother her unduly. She’d seen a lot worse in her twenty-five years. “Glad to hear it. Mo, put some clothes on and grab your monkey kit. We’ll wait in the limo.”
Loafers poked Mulch in the chest. “Five minutes. Then we’re coming in to get you.”
Mulch watched them go. This was his last chance to duck out. He could chew through the bedroom foundations, and be on a southbound train before Carla Frazetti knew he was gone.
Mulch thought about it seriously. This kind of thing was totally against his nature. It wasn’t that the dwarf was a bad fairy, it was simply that he wasn’t accustomed to helping other people. Not unless there was something in it for him. Deciding to help Artemis Fowl was a completely selfless act. Mulch shuddered. A conscience was the last thing he needed right now. Next thing you knew, he’d be selling cookies for the Girl Scouts.
CHAPTER 6
ASSAULT ON FOWL MANOR
Excerpt from Artemis Fowl’s diary, disk 2 (encrypted)
My father had finally regained consciousness. I was, of course, relieved, but his last words to me that day were chasing themselves around my mind. “Gold isn’t all important, Arty,” he had said. “Neither is power. We have everything we need right here. The three of us.”
Was it possible that the magic had transformed my father? I had to know. I needed to speak to him alone. So, at 3 A.M. the following morning, I had Butler bring me back to Helsinki’s University Hospital in the rented Mercedes.
Father was still awake, reading War and Peace by lamplight. “Not many laughs,” he commented. More jokes. I tried to smile, but my face just wasn’t in the mood.
Father closed the book. “I’ve been expecting you, Arty.
We need to talk. There are a few things we have to straighten out.”
I stood stiffly at the foot of the bed.“Yes, Father. I agree.”
Father’s smile was tinged with sadness.“So formal. I remember being the same with my own father. I sometimes think that he didn’t know me at all, and I worry that the same thing will happen to us. So I want us to talk, son, not about bank accounts. Not stocks and shares. Not corporate takeovers. I don’t want to talk business, I want to talk about you.”
I had been afraid of this.“Me? You are the priority here, Father.”
“Perhaps, but I cannot be happy until your mother’s mind is put at rest.”
“At rest?” I asked, as though I didn’t know where this was going.
“Don’t play the innocent, Artemis. I’ve called a few of my law enforcement contacts around Europe. Apparently, you have been active in my absence. Very active.”
I shrugged, unsure whether I was being scolded or praised.