‘She was a famously gifted mathematician,’ I said. Who I mostly knew about from reading Steam-punk, but I wasn’t going to mention that. ‘Generally considered to have written the first true computer program.’

‘Ah,’ said Nightingale. ‘So now we know who to blame.’

‘Reynard’s not going to tell us where his real lock-up is,’ I said. ‘And I don’t think he’s stupid enough to lead us to it. He must know we’re going to tail him once we release him. I suppose we could still charge him with whatever we’ve got lying around. Or ask for an extension.’

‘No,’ said Nightingale. ‘I think we let the fox run. But not before we inform him that the Faceless Man might have him in his sights.’

‘He might bottle it there and then, ask for protective custody.’

‘So much the better,’ said Nightingale with a smile. ‘Because then we can extract a price for his protection. And if he doesn’t, then fear might just drive him back to his den. Might it not?’

‘And if we hang him out as bait and the Faceless Man offs him?’ I asked.

Nightingale put his hand on my shoulder and leaned forward.

‘I thought I might intervene before that happened,’ he said softly and then, straightening, said, ‘Besides, it will do Reynard good to play the hound not the fox for a change.’

I was thinking that it sounded like a fucking desperate plan to me, but Nightingale was the man who had walked home from Ettersberg and struck awe into the breasts of classically educated wizards from Hereford-shire to Vladivostok.

‘Do you think you can take the Faceless Man?’ I asked.

‘He’s started making mistakes,’ said Nightingale. ‘Something has put him off his game. And, if he’s scrambling, we might be able to bring him down with a good tap.’

He is making mistakes, I thought, but why? Yes, Reynard and Christina had pilfered his goodies from under his nose. But I couldn’t see any connection between that and Aiden Burghley. Especially not one which warranted that flashy dismemberment. And what was he doing questioning Phoebe in her underground pool? Unless the Faceless Man was her father, Jeremy Beaumont-Jones, and he thought Aiden Burghley was another link in a conspiracy that encompassed Christina Chorley and Reynard the Suspicious . . . In which case Olivia McAllister-Thames would be a target too.

‘We need to close down the other loose ends,’ I said.

‘Agreed,’ said Nightingale. ‘Let’s see how Sahra is doing.’

So we divvied up the jobs, subject to Seawoll’s agreement of course. Guleed would action a TIE on the ‘area manager’ who’d interviewed Wanda the manageress for her job.

‘I’m sure Carey will have finished with his escorts by then,’ she said.

Then both of us would head out to the fabled lands beyond High Wycombe to see whether Christina stashed her stolen goodies at her father’s house.