Malzo was flying high over the ‘Fields of Time’, deep inside the Black Museum. They were flat and jet–black and shot through with slivers of silver. Fragments of colour and sound kept erupting from the surface like little fireworks and rockets. He was excited and happy because he was on his way to pick up the prisoner John the Baptist, and, if Michael had spoken well of him, he may have earned his own freedom. He looked down at the ever–changing landscape below, and made out his destination just on the horizon.
A slice of time that was Victorian England emerged from the gloom. This is where he had hidden John. The basic geography of the City of London was well known, but Malzo had spent enough time inside the museum to know that the city’s outskirts were a shifting mass of streets that he
