Coming to the impressive column-flanked entrance to Egyptian Avenue (its mouth pitch-dark to regular human eyes, although George’s night vision is preternaturally good, as sensitive as any cat’s), he pauses and waits for a few seconds, closing his eyes and clearing his mind. One of his kind has been this way, and recently. They took no pains to conceal themselves, which is a good sign. He opens his eyes again and straightens his back as he steps forward into the pool of night between the tree-shadowed lintel.

The older parts of Highgate Cemetery are preserved as woodland these days, overgrown with ivy-clad sycamore and ash trees, limestone and marble walls of gape-mouthed crypts gently aging into the landscape. Old George paces along a gravel-strewn path past a wall set in a gentle hillside, pierced by classical columns and open doorways. His nostrils flare once more as he nears his destination: a wealthy Victorian family’s final resting place. Not all of their niches are occupied. Indeed, one remains empty for it is the one that had his name—an earlier name—earmarked for it. But it’s not empty now. He pauses outside the entrance and speaks aloud, the words galling: “May we speak in peace?”

“Yes, subject to the usual caveats.”

The other is male, and speaks with an old London accent tainted with mannerisms that strike George as modern affections—even though they predate the deplorable Americanisms that crept into everyday usage after the Second World War. George relaxes his facial musculature to an almost sheepish droop, carefully suppressing any expressive signatures.

“Very well. I shall speak from out here,” he says carefully. “I will caution that I did not request this rendezvous without reason. If you try to kill me you will remain ignorant of a threat to your life. And mine, which is why I seek to make common cause.”

The tomb’s occupant is silent for almost a minute. Then: “You mentioned a threat. Please describe it. Then we can discuss the possibility of cooperation.”

• • •

“LISTEN UP, PEEPS,” SAYS MHARI. “THIS IS CRITICALLY important. There will be an exam, and if you fail, the consequences could be, shall we say, worse than career-limiting.”