“Some jobs, Alex,” Harry said, “quick and simple’s best. Thing about art galleries is, they like to splash natural light around. That means skylights. Now, the power in them ’eels”—he pointed as Alex’s grandfather finished attaching the second device—“means your grandad can break through the glazing and roof structure no problem. Soon as ’e does that, alarms’ll go off. But ’e’s only after the one painting, so that’s no worry.”

“Once the alarms are triggered,” the old man said, shrugging into a harness with dangling, strap-like attachments, “it’ll take the police at least three minutes to respond. Bags of time.”

“But there must be guards in there,” Alex said.

“Oh, somewhere.” His grandfather nodded. “But it’s a big place. And, in our experience, night guards at museums tend to be underpaid, undertrained, and undermotivated. They’re basically only there to call the police if anything happens.”

“So, yeah,” Harry went on, counting off points on his fingers: “’E bounces up onto the roof. Smashes a nice big ’ole. Drops down inside. Nips along and pries the painting off the wall. Straps the frame over ’is back with the ’arness. Then ’e runs back along, jumps back up through the same ’ole, and bounces away. Soon as we see ’im coming out, we get movin’, and then we all meet up in the park ’alf an hour later.”

“It can’t be as easy as that,” Alex complained.

He supposed that the idea of his grandfather breaking into the museum would have set his nerves buzzing under any circumstances. The pressing sense that the tall man’s gang lurked somewhere multiplied his anxiety infinitely. He held the old toy robot in his pocket, readying himself to begin reaching out. Better to be prepared.

“Maybe I could do it,” he suddenly said.

“Eh?” The old man and Harry looked at him.

“Like, I could turn myself invisible or something. I’m sure I can do it now. If you just give me a minute to work it out.”

“What? And spoil my fun?” His grandfather tutted, raised a foot, and turned his ankle so the street light caught the apparatus around the heel. “No, no. This is my job, Alex. You know, Harry, I’d almost forgotten how much I used to enjoy this.”

“Like old times.” Harry beamed.

The old man lifted his cane, pushed open the door, and stepped outside. Rain danced around him. “Okay, Harry. What does Evelyn say?”

Harry lifted his phone. “’Ow’s it looking?”

“All clear,” Kingdom’s voice came over the speaker from where she was positioned as lookout behind some abandoned roadworks farther along the road.

“And, Metz, Alex?”

“Uh, hello?” Alex said into his own phone to Metz, who was stationed off in the street behind the big museum. “Seen anything?”

“All quiet.”