NINETEEN
BADGEWORTH, GLOUCESTERSHIRE, DECEMBER 2022 AD
A small intermittent red LED light mounted in a plastic box blinked a warning to any intruder that the mansion was protected by an alarm system. It was probably linked to the local police station. I had overcome the perimeter fencing without difficulty on my falcon wings. My problem now was entry without forcing the door or windows of the Magus’s house. I prowled around the large building, my eyes alert for CCTV cameras and managed not to be filmed. Just as I began to despair of ever gaining access, I spotted the only sign of poor maintenance—a c***k in the mortar next to an architrave of the rear entrance. I contemplated and decided it was just wide enough for a small rodent to squeeze through: maybe a shrew.
My hesitation was due
