Val nods. "And long may you keep them." She glances around the office. "I suppose I can't say I'm not learning new things during my educational experience. I just didn't expect them all to have so much to do with crime and espionage."
"At least they're transferable skills," Sonia remarks from across the room, lifting a rug and looking under it.
The search continues, turning up nothing. It would be a better, kinder world, you can't help but think, if the ones behind all the diabolical plots going on behind the scenes would have the decency to leave their scrupulously kept notes somewhere easy to find. The headmaster, it seems, does not subscribe to that particular ideology: there's not a scrap of evidence you can turn up.
"Sod this," Sonia growls, aiming a kick at the emptied wastepaper basket that sends it bouncing across the carpeted floor. "There's nothing here. What are we still doing in this damn office?"
"That," a voice says quietly, "is a very good question."
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