The last man ran into the darkness and out of sight. Meyer considered chasing him, but decided it wasn't worth the energy. The two remaining men continued to wail as blood splattered across the pavement. Meyer took a careful step back to avoid getting any on his shoes.

“What have you been up to?” said a voice from the corner of the church. In front of Meyer stood a small, fat woman with curly grey hair that stuck-out absent-mindedly from her head. Although she was quite round, she had a glint in her eye that said she would merrily challenge anyone who crossed her path. She wore a grey cardigan that appeared to be at least two sizes too big, the material coming to an end just above her knees, revealing creased blue trousers and scuffed brown boots that had, like all the clothes Ruth wore, a rustic look to them.

“Ruth my dear, the whole point of this journey is that it is made alone. What are you doing here?”

“Made alone?” Ruth said, in a thick West Country accent and with an exaggerated look of puzzlement.

“Never mind. Let's be going, we wouldn't want to keep Wade waiting. Mind the blood,” Meyer said.

“My, you have made a bit of a mess my lovely,” she said, giving one of the muggers a slight kick with her boot. “Do you mind? I'm trying to get past here.”

The pair climbed over the two bodies, who were still rolling around in pain. The silent trick Meyer used on the thieves was his favourite, if only he could use it on Wade. The little scene would have been quite the incident without it and the last thing Meyer needed was a nosey neighbour kicking up a fuss. He inspected the stitching on his jacket once more and sighed.

“I can fix that,” Ruth said.

Meyer smiled and Ruth's face lit up in response. Arm in arm, the two rotund shadows continued on into the darkness, towards the building that could only be found by those who knew where it was.

- Chapter 5 -

A Point Of View

Meyer and Ruth made their way across the courtyard, surrounded by the skylights that illuminated the basement floors below. At the centre stood a glass dome, confined by intricate oil lamps that cast amber light across the courtyard stones. The Inquisition had made Holborn Bars their home since its erection in 1878, although it looked different back then. Meyer first saw it after the Victorian Gothic building was remodelled in the 1930s, the result resembling a grand sandcastle. The original entrances were still in use on three sides of the building, the main one passing underneath the tower which held Wade's office, creating a secondary courtyard of its own.

One was always gratified and amazed how you found your way to Holborn Bars. Meyer still didn't quite understand the science behind it, but it was a place you just didn't notice. It wasn't invisible, camouflaged, or anything horribly technological like that. The place just never caught anyone's attention enough to be seen or thought about. Meyer remembered first being shown the way in by Ruth aged seventeen and the feeling of dread that followed when she said that from then on, he would be expected to let his subconscious guide him there. That, naturally, had turned out to be quite the task.