Serif finally came to a bitter conclusion. He concentrated for a moment, then pulled off one of his gloves.

He put the revealed chalk-white hand up to the window and concentrated again. It took an hour, but, finally, Serif was convinced that he’d released the correct molecular messages into the air. Directing them would take longer still.

He just hoped that Greeneye wouldn’t smirk about it.

Sergeant Abelard carefully closed the partition and wandered back behind the desk of the small police station.

‘You’ve been back and forth to that door all night, Sarge,’ said Constable Bickerston. ‘And you’ve been on the go all day. Shouldn’t you be getting home?’

‘No, Alfie, I’m not a happy halibut. Army lads’ll be through here any time now. I want to know what’s going on. We might be at war tomorrow.’

‘War?’ Bickerston looked up from his newspaper. ‘What, you reckon it was the Germans did that to the hospital today?’

‘Germans, perhaps. Austrians or Russians, more likely. You didn’t see what that gas did, Alfie. Most of the patients and staff in one of the wards just vanished, melted like they were made of chocolate on a hot day. But it was the ones at the edges that had the worst of it. There were bits and pieces of them everywhere. I’ve persuaded Geoffrey down at the newspaper not to mention it tomorrow, not until we can find all the relatives. But there’ll be no holding him if the news gets out to London. What with that, that business at the pub and our anarchist down in the cells…’

‘You reckon they’re all connected?’

‘Well, I’ll be damned if it’s a coincidence, a gas bomb, a violent robbery and an assault on the same day. That, what, triples the crime rate for April in one go? No, I think we’ve got our man, but it’ll be down to the Army how they treat him. I hope they⁠ — oh, hello, miss, what can we… do for you?’

A nurse had wandered into the police station, carrying a red balloon. Abelard and the constable exchanged glances.

‘Excuse me, officers,’ the nurse began, ‘but I was wondering if you might have chanced upon a friend of mine. He’s a tall, rather sinister gentleman, in a large hat.’

‘Are you a relative, miss?’ asked Abelard.

‘Why, yes, I’m his daughter.’

‘Come now, miss, you can’t expect us to swallow that.’

The nurse laughed and her voice changed. ‘You said something funny. I’m tired of talking in that stupid way, so I’m going to talk like me now, all right?’