Without a word exchanged, they both headed with their plates towards the furthest corner of the room and chose a table where they could keep an eye on both the door and on each other. Dickie smiled. “I see neither of us has forgotten the old safety-first techniques.”

“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” said Oily with a shrug. “Tells you something. At this moment, Cambridge is a more dangerous place to be wandering about in than the Transvaal veldt. Though we have the same problem with the enemy—where the bloody hell is he? Is he sitting right in my sights, with the camouflage of a leopard, unmoving? Which one is he? By the time you spot him, it’s too late. For a moment back there in the barber’s, I thought I’d gotten it all arsy-tarsy and you were the one coming for me. Sorry about that! From your hair-trigger reaction, I’d guess that you’re likewise aware we’re all in a spot of bother this weekend? I was about to lean over and warn you in a hissing stage whisper when you came over all Sweeney Todd.”

“I’ve been back from the wilderness a week, mate. I’ve caught up. And, Oily, old man, I could have topped you six times since you arrived on the steps of the Regent Hotel at five past ten if I’d wanted.”

Oily grunted. “And I thought I was tailing you.”

“You don’t have a network of people who will report things they’ve seen. I’ve got eyes and ears in every backyard.” He grinned evilly. “And in some front parlours. I’m at home here. After years of wandering, a spell in Yorkshire finally cured me of wanderlust.”

Oily shuddered his sympathy. “That would cure you of most things . . . torpid liver, impoverished blood, will to live. But here you are once more in your fiefdom!” He looked about him at the clattering, masticating mass of no-hopers and added, “Nirvana? You were always searching! Have you found it?”

Dickie weathered the insult calmly. “Nirvana. To a Hindu: peace. To a Buddhist: emptiness. I’m not a man who can endure either of those for long. If you’re reaching for the classical, try: Eridu, the Sumerian Garden of the Gods. Complete with singing nymphs, golden apples and sunsets by Turner. If there’s a lusty dragon for me to slay, all the better. I’m still seeking knowledge. Acquiring experience. Eridu”—he pointed to his head—“is up here.”

“Pity you couldn’t have used your knowledge and experience to put a stop to all this earthly and very real unpleasantness. Cleared up a corrosive misunderstanding before five lives were put at risk.”