‘What?’ Safa snaps as Harry looks on with interest.

‘At my work,’ Ben says. ‘He was in the lift when I got to work but he had a suit on. Er . . . he asked me if I worked at Hallows and . . . that’s the name of my firm,’ he adds.

‘I know it is,’ Safa says flatly. ‘So does half the world.’

‘It was him. It was. We spoke and he . . . yeah, it was him. Fuck! What’s he doing here?’

‘Maybe it’s his house,’ Safa says, then stares back at the looks coming from the other two. ‘That was a joke.’

‘It’s not a house,’ Ben says.

‘I said it was a joke,’ Safa says.

‘Did either of you see him?’ Ben asks.

Harry shakes his head. Safa just stares at Ben. ‘Holborn was five years ago . . .’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Five years ago.’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Five years ago.’

‘Yester—’

‘Stop,’ Harry says.

‘So what did he say to you?’ Safa asks. ‘Five years ago.’

‘Oh, you mean yesterday? Well, I said hello and he said hello. Then I asked him if he was going to Hallows and he said he was but didn’t say anything else . . . no, he asked me if I worked there, yeah, that’s right, we shook hands and I gave him my name but he never said his . . . he did look at the way I was dressed though.’

‘Why?’ she asks.

‘I was in jeans and a shirt instead of a suit, for going down the Underground later.’

‘Did you tell him you were going into the Underground?’ Harry asks.

‘Er, Christ, I don’t remember but probably not . . . I didn’t know who he was so I wouldn’t say anything about a case or investigation.’

‘Five years ago,’ Safa mutters.

‘Think mine’s bad?’ Ben asks. ‘Harry’s from nineteen forty-three,’ he adds with a nod to Harry.

Another silence, but this one is filled with the sound of cogs turning in heads at the implication of all three being from different times. Ben glances at Safa, who lifts her eyebrows and looks over at Harry, who shrugs.

‘I’m not saying it,’ Ben tells them both.

‘One of us has to,’ Safa says.

‘You do it then,’ Ben says.

‘Me? No way. Harry?’

He sighs and looks round as though completely disinterested. ‘We’re in a Boche POW camp.’

‘What?’ Ben asks.

‘Spoke German. I heard them,’ Harry says.

‘Yeah,’ Ben says slowly. ‘That’s not what I was thinking.’

‘What then?’ Harry asks.

‘Ben?’ Safa asks, prompting him.

‘You’re the copper,’ Ben replies, trying to evade saying it.

‘Doesn’t make any difference,’ she mutters. ‘Fine, I’ll say it then.’

‘Go on then,’ Ben says when she doesn’t say it.

She looks away, rolling her eyes. ‘Feels stupid.’

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Ben groans. ‘Time travel . . . there, I said it.’

‘What?’ she says, screwing her face up. ‘Time travel?’

‘Eh? Wasn’t that what you were thinking?’