Errol didn't stiffen or jump at the words, instead continuing to crumble up bits of pastry and toss it out at the cooing, ignorant birds. He turned at his leisure and eyed the man coolly, raising an eyebrow. "Then I suppose they'll be grateful that I don't intend to use them as miniature suicide bombers."
The bland, genial look on Errol's face hid a sudden and instinctive stab of suspicion and near-revulsion at the man's expression, particularly the smile. People weren't meant to smile like that. It was almost obscene.
"Can I help you?" he asked in that same calm, mildly interested way that he'd made his previous statement.