‘Well, Max, and I want you to remain very calm . . .’

‘You said that already.’

‘Yes, but I felt the point needed reinforcing. They’ve shot Matthew.’

No one moved. Not even a muscle. Jane heard Luke swallow. She would have done the same but suddenly, her mouth was horribly dry.

‘Is Matthew still alive?’ asked Matthew’s mum in a tone of voice which left them in no doubt as to what the correct answer to that question should be.

‘Yes, yes,’ said Luke quickly. ‘He’ll be fine. I was very careful.’

Her eyes seemed to bore into his skull. ‘He will recover?’

‘Yes, yes. He’s receiving medical care and he’s in no danger. I promise you.’

‘The little bugger’s been up to no good, Max,’ said Peterson. ‘Don’t kill them now or we’ll never hear the full story.’

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘First things first.’ She eyed them in a manner neither Luke nor Jane found reassuring, then looked up at Peterson. ‘Caesar first, then these two.’

He nodded. ‘Agreed.’

She and Peterson turned back to the street. The eunuch smiled sunnily at Luke and Jane and obediently, they shuffled back into their niche alongside the bald bloke with the scroll and the big nose.

‘No Time Police that I can see,’ said Peterson. He surveyed the milling crowds. ‘How many of this lot are from future St Mary’s, do you think?’

‘Them,’ said Maxwell, pointing at a group of three men and one woman standing to the left of the Curia.

‘How can you possibly tell?’ said Luke, baffled.

‘Hair,’ said Peterson, stroking his.

‘Clothes,’ said Miss Van Owen, stroking hers.

‘Female security officer,’ said Markham, not making any move at all.

‘Really?’ said Luke, squinting in the sun.

‘Can’t you see the bulge?’

‘I thought that was her . . .’

‘No – that’s her weapon.’

‘It’s a big one, then.’

‘I would have thought,’ said Peterson to Luke, ‘that referring to a lady’s bulges would be unacceptable in your more enlightened times.’

Luke nodded ruefully. ‘Oh, it is, believe me.’

‘And them,’ said Van Owen, nodding at two men standing just in front of them. One of them turned and looked them up and down for a moment. Professional nods were exchanged. ‘Morning.’

In the distance, they could hear sudden cheering.

‘Shit,’ said Peterson. ‘He’s on his way. Places, everyone.’

‘Too late,’ said Maxwell. ‘Too many people. We’re better off staying here.’

‘It’s a bit more exposed than I’m happy with,’ said Markham, glancing around.

‘Hide behind me, then,’ said Peterson and Markham made a rude noise.

Luke tweaked Jane’s sleeve and jerked his head. They should quietly creep away now, while everyone’s attention was elsewhere.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ said the eunuch, suddenly behind them.

‘He’s here,’ said Van Owen, craning her neck. ‘Recorders, everyone.’