Down the alley I could see vague shapes huddled in the corner. I drew my sword, conscious that as I moved into the alley my eyes would take a moment to adjust. A sword would make anyone intending to jump me hesitate.
"Andy? The sword is only for protection," I called into the dimness. "This doesn't need to be a fight. I just want to talk to you."
I moved carefully into the shade between the buildings. The alley opened out again further in. Drainpipes ran down the walls and high letter-box windows set on either side. I checked the windows to see if anyone could have squeezed through, but the soot and grime in the cracks showed they had been painted shut long ago.
At the back of the alley was a roller shutter door, set a few feet off the floor for loading and unloading into vehicles. Piled high in the corner next to it was a mound of black binbags, big enough for a person to hide in. I edged towards it and used the end of my scabbard to poke into the pile. A cloud of flies erupted from the bags, buzzing around my head and face before settling back on the bags. The base of one of the bags had ruptured spilling rotting vegetables and split tomatoes. There was no one hiding there.
I looked at the roller shutter. Had there been time for Andy to open it enough to crawl through and close it again after him? I didn't think so. I pulled the base of it upwards. It was locked, but that didn't mean much. What could be locked could be unlocked, but it would be heavy to lift and slow to move; those things make a tremendous racket. I would have heard it, wouldn't I?
I moved cautiously back to the opening of the alley, collecting the coat from the drainpipe on the way. It was a good coat with a wool lining, and the inner was still warm. He had abandoned it in a hurry. I went through the pockets looking for clues and came up with a roll of five pound notes and plastic bag of pound coins tucked into the inside pocket.
I scanned the walls up the skyline above me, half expecting to see someone peeking over the parapet above. No one did. Still, I couldn't help feeling that I was observed. I let my heartbeat slow after the chase, and then extended my senses into the alley. It was not like the hallway at the courts — there was no underlying magic laid layer upon layer to bind and confuse. This was clean, though filaments of power hung in the air like trails of smoke. Someone had used power here, but whatever they'd done, it was dissipating fast.
Glancing up again at the high walls, I could see that with the loose mortar, something with sharp claws might have scaled those walls, though they would have had to climb pretty quickly to avoid being caught. It made me momentarily glad I hadn't apprehended him in the market. Dealing with such a creature in a crowded place would not have been easy.
I stuffed the notes into the bag with the coins and put them in my pocket, then rolled the coat into a bundle. Now I had something of value to him. If I couldn't catch him, maybe I could tempt him to reclaim his possessions.
I walked back to the market, checking behind me frequently. No one followed. I found the rucksack tossed behind a waste bin along the path he'd used to run. Inside were more jars of the viscous amber liquid. It looked like honey.
Making my way to a coffee shop I ordered a cappuccino and took it to a stool by the window placing the coat on the counter beside me, and looking out over the stalls. I took my time drinking it, looking for people who didn't move with the crowd or who lingered too long in the wrong places. Eventually I had to concede that he wasn't going to reappear. If he was here then he was hanging back, concealed by glamour and unwilling to show himself.
I drained the cup and took the bundled coat, stuffing the money into an inside pocket. At the counter I asked for a biro and wrote on a napkin.
Andy, I only want to talk. Here's your coat and money back as a sign of good faith. Be here tomorrow and I'll buy you a coffee. I have an interesting proposition for you — more money than you have here. Meet me tomorrow, at midday.
I tucked the note in with the money and buttoned closed the pocket, then went back to the stall where I'd originally seen him. The stallholder looked hopeful for a moment until I showed the coat.
"Do you know Andy, the guy selling honey?"
He shook his head at me. "He wants too much money for it. He's gotta appreciate we're talking trade prices, not retail."
"I'm not negotiating on his behalf," I said. "But I found his coat and rucksack. He must have left it behind."
"What d'you want me to do about it?"
"If I leave it with you, can you make sure he gets it, next time you see him? It's got his float in it. You'll make sure he gets it, won't you?"
"What do I look like, Salvation Army?" he protested.
"Oh come on, someone will pinch it otherwise — it's his stock, and it's a good coat."
"Yeah, well. Give it over then." He took them from me and tucked it down behind the counter. "If he don't come back for them, I'll give 'em into one of them charity shops. They'll take it."
"Don't worry. I'm sure he'll stop by. Thanks, you're a gent."
"Too bleedin' kind-hearted is what I am. Yeesh."
I walked out of the market down the main aisle, making sure I was visible long after I left. I would return tomorrow and see what happened.
Alex wasn't good at waiting, and the time between fivethirty when the tower closed to the public and nine o'clock when they shut the tower up for the night was spent in increasing impatience and irritation. She wanted to get on with it, to get what they came for and leave, but Eve was insistent. They had to wait for the key.
Cloaked in glamour, they clustered up on the wall near the Water Gate, watching the Yeoman Warders pace through their duties, checking each building and arming the alarm systems that protected the crown jewels and the tower. As the light faded the shadows became deeper and the activity ramped down. Patrols still walked the yards and checked the doors, but their frequency diminished as the human guards transferred their trust to electronic surveillance and security systems. There was joking among the guardsmen and a degree of ribald humour that was reserved for when the public had left.
"Right," said Eve. "Chipper, Sparky — you've got the difficult job. You have to get close enough to the jewels to make them think it's a real raid, but not so close you get caught."
Sparky grinned in the twilight. "Don't worry, we're cool."
"I do worry," said Eve. "I worry that your arrogance and hubris will bring disaster down on our heads. These are some of the most sophisticated systems known to man, but their weakness is that they are aimed against other men, and they are protecting the jewels, not our true targets. By creating a distraction you will draw their attention, and that is both good and bad. They have automatic weapons, infrared vision — for all we know they have a satellite trained on us right now, or the ability to co-opt one for their use. Don't take chances. Take out everything you can see but be prepared for things you can't. Infrared lasers, x-ray scanners, we just don't know. All you have to do is draw their attention. Give us five minutes. That's all we need to get in and out. Stay out of sight and keep concealed until it's time. Once the operation begins we will be out of contact and hidden, even from each other. There's no going back and we'll get one chance, so don't bottle it."
"We won't bottle it," said Sparky.
Chipper's eyes shone in the darkness. He looked more alive than Alex had ever seen him.
"I'm not worried about you." Eve glanced at Alex.
"I'll be fine," said Alex. "In, out, we're done. I've done this before," she confirmed.
"Not like this you haven't," said Eve. "If it comes to it, be prepared to use whatever means you have. We cannot afford to get caught, understand? We meet up outside the bar, The Hung, Drawn and Quartered on Great Tower Street."