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‘Sure.’

‘You told our boss that you’d been given the Sight via an artefact passed to you by a fan,’ began Ross. ‘We’re interested in any information you might be able to give us about what could be called the occult community in London. How, for example, did you get involved with them?’

‘I wrote a book called Neverwhere. It was a TV show first — you probably wouldn’t have seen it. The novel version is very different, because in between the two I’d been given the Sight. So the novel was a rather more authentic, if still metaphorical, story about there being a hidden London. Some of the folk who live here and know about these things picked up on that, and they started to come along to signings. And I’d sort of know, whenever I shook the hand of one of them?’ He had that American end-of-sentence question in his accent, Sefton noted. ‘They’d very kindly invite me along to their get-togethers, and, whenever I could, I went. They’re very set in their ways, but the odd thing is that London isn’t.’ He raised a finger and held it there as he seemed to want to completely explore a thought before he said it. ‘Have you been to any of the other cities of the Sight?’

Ross sounded slightly defensive. ‘No.’

‘We’ve been a bit busy,’ said Sefton.

‘Paris is quite something. Cork I didn’t really understand. Northampton is kind of … cute. Barnsley is delightful. New York is exactly what you’d expect.’

‘Right,’ said Sefton, hoping that he sounded as if he knew what New York was expected to be.

‘Listen, you’ve heard of Jerusalem Syndrome?’ Gaiman looked away as he continued, as if realizing there was the potential of rudeness here if he assumed knowledge they didn’t have. ‘When people go to Jerusalem, and within days, hours sometimes, they become convinced that they’re not just a very naughty boy but are actually the Messiah? Well, I think that’s sort of what the Sight is. That written large. Jerusalem, as far as I know, isn’t a city of the Sight, though it has, as everywhere does, a handful of features only the Sighted can see, and no, I don’t know why some cities are like this and others aren’t. The Sight gives other cities the same superpowers over the human psyche that Jerusalem has. Both effects are about the buildings, about what the shape of individual cities does to the natural human heart. I don’t mean just the buildings — that’s only one of many layers. You’ve seen people make gestures now, use their voices? That’s that layer. But if you place the buildings right…’ He quickly moved the places of the cups and teapot on the table. ‘That’s another way to work with it.’ He pointed out of the window. ‘I met you here so I could show you this. We’re at Seven Dials, the conjunction of seven roads. When you look at the pillar in the middle, using the Sight, what do you feel?’

Oh. Sefton reached out for the pillar with the Sight and found himself repulsed almost immediately. In a small way. That was probably why he hadn’t looked at it like that on the way in here. It was like the thought of some small guilt that you got reminded of and skipped past. Like he felt about Barry Keel. He wouldn’t have noticed it without it being pointed out.

‘Yup.’ Gaiman smiled. ‘Seven roads lead here. It’s said this was once the place in London with the highest crime rate because of that, by the way, with seven roads for a thief to flee down. But that pillar in the middle of them bears only six sun dials, because the pillar was designed before the seventh road was added at the last minute. So this is really Six Dials. London knows that and it drives it crazy. And so it also drives people who concentrate on the pillar crazy. Just a little. More or less depending on the time of day, actually. That’s why those with the Sight call this place “the Severed Streets”. They’re aware something went wrong at the planning stage, and that it doesn’t contribute as positively as it should to the occult power of London.’

Ross had an expression on her face that indicated she didn’t want to be interested in this seeming irrelevance, but couldn’t help it. ‘Why did the number of roads change?’

‘Money. They wanted to build as many houses as they possibly could. And that meant seven pubs, and so you put the pattern of the Sight and the pattern of money together, and you get one of the most notorious neighbourhoods in London, for a long time, until someone must have sorted that out. Probably someone who knew what they were doing.’

‘So the power of money and the power of London are at odds?’ asked Sefton.

‘I’ve been wondering about that. I think it’s more that the power of money doesn’t care about the shape of London, and so sometimes people with money try to do things that go against the grain.’ He smiled a warm smile at them. ‘Being police among all this, you must find your world view gets … distorted by it. You must keep trying to find straight lines.’

‘That’s pretty much our job description now.’ Sefton found himself wanting to go on a research trip to New York. To do that would give you such context. He also wanted to know which holiday destinations were ‘cities of the Sight’ before he went to any of them. ‘Do you do any … practical work yourself?’

‘A few youthful experiments. Now I like to live in places where that would be impossible, where I don’t have to see unexpected things before breakfast.’

‘What did you sacrifice?’ asked Ross.

‘You can always find something.’ He poured the tea, looking away, as if distracted again.

‘Such as?’

He stopped and regarded them seriously for a moment. ‘Nothing that would get me into trouble with you. Am I suspected of something?’

‘Not at all,’ said Sefton. ‘As we said, this is just background.’

‘Who or what do you sacrifice to?’ asked Ross, now firmly in interview room mode.

Gaiman sighed. ‘London, as a concept, as is traditional, but … okay, I don’t know how far you’re into this-’

Sefton was startled. ‘There’s something else to sacrifice to now?’

‘Yeah. You get that feeling now. I’ve been looking into this, and…’ He stopped and considered again for a moment. Sefton wondered if that speech habit was really because his thoughts distracted him, or if he was being careful about what he revealed to them. From the look on her face, Ross certainly seemed to be favouring the latter interpretation. ‘Listen,’ Gaiman said suddenly, ‘do you know about ostentation?’

‘Please,’ said Sefton, ‘tell us.’

‘It’s a term from folklore, used there in the context of what are called “friend of a friend stories”. You know, “there was this stoned woman who put her baby in the microwave” — urban legends. Well, sometimes, in cities that aren’t Sighted, those stories come true simply because enough people have heard about them, and in a big population there’s always someone mad enough to try it, whatever it is. But in cities of the Sight, I think that can happen a lot more easily. I think in London, to announce something is sometimes to take a further step towards that thing actually happening than would be the case outside. I think that might be what the phrase “streets paved with gold” in the pantomime means, to those in the know. That the streets of London are infused with-’

‘That golden threadlike stuff.’

‘Yeah. But I don’t exactly know what that is. I’ve only ever seen it a couple of times.’

‘When?’

‘When my youthful experiments messed up. Unless the golden thread is preset to do something, I think you only see it when things go wrong. It’s like lines of code in software. You’re only meant to experience the effects. Have you seen the silver stuff?’

‘The power source?’ said Sefton.

Gaiman pointed at him with a little nod and pursed lips — an expression that made Sefton feel perversely proud of himself. ‘These are visual metaphors for control and power that only the Sighted can access. Whether or not you’d say the gold and silver stuff is real … I’m not even sure that’s a sensible question. I only ever saw either when something I did went wrong.’