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'What if she laughs at me?'

'What if she doesn't? There's a good chance she actually quite likes you!'

Randolph's shoulders slumped.

'I'll speak to her as soon as she gets back.'

'Good.' I looked at my watch. 'I've got roll-call in twenty minutes. Let the engine run for ten minutes and then shut her down. I'll see you tonight.'

'Who are we waiting for?' asked the Bellman.

'Godot,' replied Benedict.

'Absent again. Anybody know where he is?'

There was a mass shaking of heads.

The Bellman made a note in his book, tingled his bell and cleared his throat.

'Jurisfiction session number 40320 is now in session,' he said in a voice tinged with emotion. 'Item one. Perkins and Snell. Fine operatives who made the ultimate sacrifice for duty. Their names will be carved into the Boojumorial to live for ever as inspiration for those who come after us. I call now for two minutes' silence. Perkins and Snell!'

'Perkins and Snell,' we all repeated, and stood in silent memory of those lost.

'Thank you,' said the Bellman after two minutes had ticked by. 'Commander Bradshaw will be taking over the bestiary. Mathias’ mare has been contacted and asked me to say thank you to all those who sent tributes. The Perkins & Snell detective series will be taken over by B-2 clones from the tribute book, and I know you will join me in wishing them the very best in their new venture.'

He paused and took a deep breath.

'These losses are a great shock to us all, and the lessons to be learned must not be ignored. We can never be too careful. Okay, item two.'

He turned over a page on his clipboard.

'Investigation of Perkins' death. Commander Bradshaw, doesn't this come under your remit?'

'Investigations are proceeding,' replied Bradshaw slowly. 'There is no reason to suppose that their deaths were anything other than an accident.'

'So what stops you closing the case?'

'Because,' replied Bradshaw, trying to think up an excuse quickly, 'because – um – we still want to speak to Vernham Deane.'

'Deane is somehow involved?' asked the Bellman.

'Yes – perhaps.'

'Interesting turn of events,' said the Bellman, 'which brings us neatly on to item three. I'm sorry to announce that Vernham Deane has been placed on the PageRunners list.'

There was a sharp intake of breath. To be classed as a PageRunner meant only one thing: illegal activities.

'We've known Vern since he was written, guys, and hard as it might be, we think he's done something pretty bad. Tweed, haven't you got something to say about this?'

Harris Tweed stood up and cleared his throat.

'Vernham Deane is familiar to all of us. As the resident cad in The Squire of High Potternews, he was well known for his cruelty towards the maidservant who he ravages and then casts from the house. The maid returns eight chapters later but three days ago – the morning following Perkins' death, I might add – she didn't.'

He placed a picture of an attractive dark-haired woman on the board.

'She's a C-3 Generic by the name of Mimi. Twenty years old, identification code: CDT/2511922.'

'What did Deane say about her disappearance?'

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