"You?" Lady Sylvia looked incredulously at the sinister figure behind the desk. He glared back at her.
"That's right, Lady Sylvia - or should I say Miss Jones?" the Grey Tabby replied, voice stern and sinister. "You may have ruined my plan to create an independent London, a refuge for the criminal classes of Europe, but you did not destroy me."
"So what are you up to this time?" the brunette demanded angrily.
"You'd believe me if I said it was simply revenge," the Grey Tabby smiled wickedly. "If I'd just concocted this whole scheme to attract the Green Man and his agents, like moths to a flame."
"Actually," the young aristocrat replied spiritedly, "I wouldn't. You see, I know you, Grey Tabby, and I know you wouldn't go to all this just to get revenge. You're much too greedy, Tabby."
"Thank you," the Grey Tabby laughed. "You're right, of course. I am the managing director of Crooks' Tours. As you know, Lady Sylvia, it is my contention that the weakness of organised crime is that it is organised on strictly amateur lines. If crime was run like any other major business, revenue would be far higher than it is. Given that the major reason for criminals being forced to give up their professions is that they are too well known by the local police."
"But what no-one knows," the Grey Tabby laughed, "is that I'm building an army of crooks here. If you know your local history, Lady Sylvia, you will know that, in the sixteenth century, a man called Robert Kett led an army of peasants to take Norwich. I intend to use my army of crooks to take Norwich. My criminal state will be Norfolk."
"You'll never get away with it," Lady Sylvia shot back bravely.
"But I will..." the Grey Tabby laughed softly. "You see, within the tower of this castle is a missile, a small missile, but a missile equipped with a nuclear warhead. More than enough to destroy London. And we both know, my dear Lady Sylvia, that the Government will do anything to save its own skin.