Okay. Those were guys without the Sight, and the stairway downwards was something of the Sight, invisible to those without the ability. He looked back. The bearded man, who was obviously some sort of gatekeeper of that stairwell, was looking pained at the celebrations by the bar. Very gauche. They were letting the wrong sort of people in here nowadays. The man visibly sighed, then slowly and purposefully closed his book and looked expectantly at the crowd, making eye contact once more with all those Costain had noticed earlier. They were the ones, Costain was sure now, who could see what he was sitting beside.

Costain stood. At the same moment, many others moved too. The people separating themselves from the throng formed not so much a queue, but an awkward spread, waiting for their turn. The ones who had wandered over … yeah, he could feel the sudden shift in gravity … you couldn’t tell if an individual had the Sight, but when they all moved together … They were, largely, the ones who looked poor or wore older clothing. He looked back to the rest. There was a real anger in the room about what was happening now. A couple of the better-dressed people had marched over to insert themselves into this rough queue, and there was mocking laughter, rolling of eyes, people turning away in annoyance. Costain could feel the social forces in conflict here, a frustration that, if it had been later in the evening, might have led to something kicking off. Hence the bouncer – he’d woken up a bit and was looking around.

Costain wished he knew more about the nature of the defences in this place, in case he had to make a sudden exit.

*   *   *

‘See you later, then,’ said Ross to the bloke at the bar, and she made to get up. She’d started a conversation about safety on the streets, in light of the riots, and had hoped the man might say something about the Ripper murders. But he hadn’t.

He stopped her now. ‘I didn’t realize you were … one of them.’

She tried to look non-committal.

‘We were told we were going to get to go down there too, sometime soon. You know, under the new proprietors.’

‘Oh.’

‘Obviously that message hasn’t got through. I mean, I don’t even know how we’d do that now, since it turns out to be true that we’re not even able to see the bally stairs, but … could you remind those in charge? When you get down there?’

‘Of course,’ she said, and headed over. So, there was a whole other level to this place, and only people with the Sight were allowed down there. That was where juice for the operation might be found. Maybe juice that would help with her own plans too. She had to find some sources of information about occult objects, about one object in particular. She had to get down there. She wanted just to march over, but down there – given that it didn’t exist as far as a lot of these people knew – surely counted, in the terms Quill had set out for the evening, as a private space. So to go down there would be to go against orders. She noted Quill nearby and walked past him, raising her eyebrows in a question.