The billionaire raised his hands in surrender. ‘It didn’t go at all,’ he said. ‘I’ve never successfully used the blasted thing. Wish I’d never set eyes on it. I bought it at this auction which took place under the skeleton of a whale in the Natural History Museum. Not wanting to be there myself in case I was recognized, I stayed on the other end of a phone line and had my proxy purchase this “scrying glass”, which I’d been told was as rare as hen’s teeth. I paid around forty thou for it and had it delivered to me here. I expected some sort of instruction manual, but there was nothing. So I decided that perhaps using it was just going to be a matter of instinct.’ Sefton recognized his own blundering attitude to dealing with the power of London. ‘The first time I tried … well, the only time … Maggie, would you please continue the story? Tell the truth.’

Sefton was intrigued by the idea that otherwise the PA might not tell the truth. They all looked to the middle-aged woman, who now had an awkward expression on her face. She’d been surprised to hear all this from her boss, Sefton felt. She was wondering if he was mad. But she was also very worried that he might not be. ‘It must have been about two and a half years ago,’ she began, haltingly. ‘There was snow on the ground. I was downstairs making tea, and Mr Vincent had said that that night I could leave early, because he was going to be busy all evening. And then I heard him cry out from up here. There was the most enormous crashing around. It was like someone had got in here and was attacking him. I should have hit the panic button, but I didn’t; I just ran upstairs and opened the door and found him staggering about. The room was smashed up. It must have been over in seconds, whatever it was. His shirt was ripped. Mr Vincent saw me standing there and yelled for me to get out. He ran out himself and closed the door behind us. He made sure I was all right, but he wouldn’t tell me what had happened – just that I wasn’t to tell anyone, and … well, he’s never asked me to work in this room since, and I’ve been glad not to.’ She looked as if she was now making some terrible mental calculations about how her perceptions of what was possible had changed since the start of this meeting.

‘What happened?’ Sefton asked Vincent.