“Anything good?” she asked, and indicated the stack. Benjamin shrugged.

“The Shout’s rubbish this week. Decent lead in Forge about Rudgutter’s dealings with the shipping companies. I’ll get someone to chase it, actually. Apart from that it’s slim pickings.”

“What do you want me to get onto?”

“Well . . .” Benjamin flicked through papers, consulted his notes. “If you can just keep your ear to the ground about the dock strike . . . Canvass opinion, try and get a few positive responses, a few quotes, you know. And how about five hundred words on the history of the Suffrage Lottery?”

Derkhan nodded.

“What else’ve we got coming up?” she asked.

Benjamin pursed his lips.

“There’s some rumour about Rudgutter having some illness, dubious cures: that’s something I’d like to chase, but you can tell it’s been filtered by Jabber knows how many mouths. Still, keep an ear open. There’s something else as well . . . very tentative at this stage, but interesting. I’m talking to someone who claims they’re talking to someone who wants to blow the whistle on links between Parliament and mob crime.”

Derkhan nodded slowly and appreciatively.

“Sounds very tasty. What are we talking? Drugs? Prostitutes?”

“Shit, sure as eggs Rudgutter’s got fingers in every fucking pie you can think of. They all have. Churn out the commodity, grab the profit, get the militia to tidy up your customers afterwards, get a new crop of Remade or slave-miners for the Arrowhead pits, keep the jails full . . . nice as you like. I don’t know what this grass has in mind particularly, and they’re fucking nervous, apparently, ready to do a bunk. But you know me, Dee. Softly softly.” He winked at her. “I won’t let this one get away.”

“Keep me posted, won’t you?” Derkhan said. Benjamin nodded.

Derkhan bundled her collection of papers into a bag, hiding them under assorted detritus. She stood.

“Right. I have my orders. That three shekels, by the way, includes fourteen copies of Double-R sold.”

“Good stuff,” said Benjamin, and found a particular notebook among the many on his desk to record the fact. He stood and gestured Derkhan through the doorway and the wardrobe. She waited in his tiny bedroom as he shut off the lights in the press.

“Is Grimwhatsisname still buying?” he asked through the hole. “That scientist geezer?”

“Yes. He’s quite good.”

“I heard a funny rumour about him the other day,” said Benjamin, emerging through the wardrobe, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “Is he the same one who’s after birds?”

“Oh, yes, he’s doing some experiment or other. You been listening to criminals, Benjamin?” Derkhan grinned. “He’s collecting wings. I think he makes it a point of principle never to buy things officially when he can go through illicit channels.”

Benjamin shook his head appreciatively.

“Well, the cove’s good at it. He knows how to get word out.”