As he walked down the road through the snow, Rishaan looked at the code again. It meant nothing. There were a few numbers, but were they in code as well, or part of the key? There was a fog, mixed with the smoke of a hundred thousand chimneys, that covered London in a blanket and made Rishaan cough. He needed to pay attention to where he was, or he could get lost. Rishaan had to go home first; he had his housework to do, and then it would be getting late. He hated doing his housework. It was at his mother’s insistence, but Rishaan thought it was something the servants should do, and they were paid for it, anyway. His mother said that he should always understand that any mess he would make was his responsibility. When he mentioned that the servants tidied up after her, she said that was di
