‘It all fits the profile,’ said Costain.

Ross was frowning. ‘White men is a big profile. It’s everyone who’s not “the other”.’

‘Rich white men isn’t as big,’ countered Sefton. ‘There’s a reason why they’re called the one per cent.’

‘Was Staunce rich? Was Spatley rich?’

Quill recognized that Ross was sort of talking to herself out loud.

‘Privileged, then,’ said Costain.

‘Usually means the opposite in our world,’ said Sefton.

‘Great,’ said Quill, ‘we’re in a land of things meaning their opposites. What about the woman who was attacked?’

‘She wasn’t among those who stayed behind and were interviewed and processed,’ said Ross, looking at her own copy of the notes. ‘We have some descriptions – wildly varying, of course. There is, hooray, security camera footage of the whole bar.’

‘Hooray indeed.’ Quill looked up and grimaced. ‘Gird your loins, here comes trouble.’

Forrest had arrived, Lofthouse beside him. ‘It took us a couple of hours to sort out the scrummage outside before we could even get in here,’ he said. ‘Multiple arrests, protestors and now, dear God, rival right-wing protestors.’ Quill recalled seeing graffiti about ‘kikes’ on buildings around the square. ‘That’s rare to the point of unique for round here. The hard cases in my cells are saying they’re aiming to break up every Toff gathering.’

‘Just what we bloody need,’ sighed Quill.

‘What, they’re onside with the bankers?’ Ross had a look on her face as if reality was lying to her.

‘What we’re getting out of their online forums is that they think the Ripper message indicates that these killings are all a Jewish conspiracy, and that by wearing that mask, the Toffs are supporting the secret powers that rule the world.’

‘Which in previous decades would have been associated with the bankers themselves,’ said Ross.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Quill, ‘now it’s like anything can mean anything.’

‘The Ripper really should have been more specific with that message,’ said Sefton. ‘Then at least we’d only have one side to deal with.’

‘So, DI Quill,’ said Forrester, ‘what can you bring to the table?’

Quill had prepared this report mentally over the last few days. ‘We’ve placed undercovers in relevant communities and are already hearing useful chatter, though none yet of operational relevance.’ He wished he could mention the silver, but couldn’t think of a way to do it.

‘So, you’ve got fuck all?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Fantastic. Keep up the good work.’

‘Any fingerprints here?’

‘No matches with the others, no.’

‘May I ask, sir, if, given this, we’re still building a case against the driver, Tunstall?’