Luckily the cabbie was separated from them by a plastic screen and did not realize his life was a tool for barter.

“Here we are, mate,” he called over his shoulder. “Bayley Street. You might spot a few celebs up around here. House on the corner went for forty million pounds last month. There’s no recession in this manor, I’ll tell you that.”

Garrick rolled his eyes. “Apparently the verbosity of London cabbies is constant through the ages.” He knocked on the plastic. “I have a new destination for you, driver. Take us to the Wolseley. A friend told me about this café, and I feel it would be just the ticket for our ravenous group. Down Piccadilly, if you please, I do not wish to take the tourists’ route.”

“No worries,” said the cabbie. “I know this city better than the wife knows the inside of my wallet. Strike me dead if I try to cheat you.”

Garrick hid his face as they passed the armed police.

“That is exactly what I shall do,” he said.

By the time the cabbie drew in front of the Wolseley, the restaurant was open for early breakfast. Garrick selected a booth in the window and studied the menu with coos of delight that drew attention from other diners.

“What say you, son? Kedgeree or kippers? Why not both, eh? It is a special occasion, after all.”

Chevie sat by the window, hemmed in between the glass and the magician’s apprentice, hampered by the table.

I need to make a move, she thought. Orange’s last instruction to me was to guard the Timekey. I will not botch another mission. I must get that key back. And I can’t rely on Riley to help me.

All traces of Smart were gone now. The person sitting opposite her was a genuine magician from the past, and as if to prove it, he charmed the waitress, pulling a salt shaker from behind her ear and Felix Smart’s platinum MasterCard from behind his own.

“I believe this is what passes for money these days,” he said, his accent like something from an old black-and-white Sherlock Holmes movie. “Make sure to add a ten percent gratuity for yourself, my dear, pretty as you are.”

The girl was used to big tippers. “I think I’m pretty enough for twenty percent,” she said, not even bothering to smile.

Garrick waved a magnanimous hand. “Why not take thirty?” he said. “We Smarts are a generous breed.”

The waitress pulled a pen from the belt of her apron and took Garrick’s order. The magician selected three kinds of eggs: poached, fried, and scrambled. Kedgeree and kippers. Toast, muffins, and American pancakes with syrup. Sausages, bacon, and potato cakes. Oatmeal and granola. Orange juice, grapefruit juice, and a large pot of coffee. Riley opted for hot chocolate and a full English breakfast, while Chevie asked for a glass of water.