Penelope Rutledge semi-reclined in the shade of the old, old oak in the garden. If she was thinking of anything in particular it was how beastly hot it was and how good that gin-and-tonic would be. And if as magic, the butler brought it.

"Here you are, Miss Rutledge," he said, placing the frosted glass on the table. The curl of lime zest added a festive note.

"Thank you, Ballsworthy. You may go," she replied. And the butler left silently for the house.

Penelope took a thoughtful sip. Just as she like it. Ballsworthy knew how to keep a bar, and he was a top-notch butler. She never thought he had that in his makeup. Then, she'd never killed a lizard-man before. And that story about Ballsworthy being found naked on the Great Grimpen Moor -- if her friends at MI-7 hadn't assured her it was true....

Ballsworthy coughed quietly on her left side. She turned, and he said, "A telephone call, Miss Rutledge. I've taken the liberty of bringing the phone to you." He handed her a cordless phone, turned, and left.

She placed the phone on the table. One of the bad things about technology was that one couldn't escape into the garden anymore, she thought. She picked up the phone and spoke.

"Penelope Rutledge here."

"Penelope? Hello! It's Chinga."


(WHAT!?!? Chonga's sister calling Penelope? Whatever can this mean? More surprises ahead!)