Then, to her surprise, the cab pulled over. Stopped. Just on the far side of the griffin, still within sight of the West End crowds behind it. The movement wrenched her from so deep a study that for a moment she didn’t recognize the place. She saw the scarred driver give a glance to the heavyset newsie standing just outside on the pavement. The newsie, in turn, glanced at two ancient and enormous iron doors set in the wall behind him, shut tight.

The driver turned in his seat. Leered at her.

“Here you go, darling. Just what you asked for. The end of the world.”

The newsie darted forward. Yanked the door open. Stuck his horny hand in at her. “Right this way, love.” He was leering too, leering down at her.

“And none of that Smith and Sons nonsense,” said the driver with a rueful nod at her stick. “It won’t help you anyway. It’s too late for all that now.”

“I should’ve pinned you like a bug when I had the chance,” Harper grumbled. But she slid across the seat towards the open door.

She’d be damned if she’d take the newsie’s hand. She worked her way out herself. And when he touched her shoulder, she sloughed him off with a vehement shrug. Out in the open air, she smoothed and straightened herself. The newsie hovered near her. Tried to take her elbow. She glowered him back. “I’ll break those sausagy fingers if they touch me again.”

He scowled, but kept away. Contented himself with a rough gesture at the iron doors.

“All right, all right,” she groused.

Hoisting her satchel strap over her shoulder, she waddled, muttering, towards the wall. Slowly, as if magically, the doors opened inward at her approach.

Harper’s teeth clamped, her breath caught as the corridor beyond was revealed to her. She saw a downward slope through a constricted close. She had a glimpse through windblown sycamore branches of the west porch entry to the church of the Knights Templar. She knew where she was now. The entrance to the Inner Temple Court.

The newsie dropped back behind her. She passed under the entryway. The great doors swung shut.

She was alone in the dark alley with the damp night wind.

She halted. Harrumphed. Looked around her. Sneered angrily at the descending passage. But this was all bravado, in case anyone was watching. If she’d been melting with fear in the cab, she was practically a puddle now. It was another long moment before she could bring herself to head down the slope to whatever lay below.