The passage dipped down sharply, running perhaps five meters through a strange, hidden section of the manor. Then it surfaced on the other side of the wall. I had reached my destination. I stood before a small, simple door with cherubs painted on the doorframe, as though it were the entrance to a child’s bedroom. I reached out for the crystal doorknob. It was locked. T hey probably installed that after Porky’s little raid , I thought with amusement. Well, they had more to deal with now than an incompetent hedgepig. I remembered with malicious glee that the porcupine was a popular Victorian house pet, devouring dinner scraps and insects with equal relish. Still thinking about this entertaining fact, I withdrew a long dissecting needle from my bag and easily jimmied the lock.