When they had all reported, Radcliffe nodded. ‘Good, good. Now, I wonder if you have guessed why we have ordered such a mission. And why it had to be you three, the very apex of the pyramid of your Knights of Discorporea,’ and he said the words as if they were ashes in his mouth.

‘That’s not hard to guess,’ Hackett said sternly. ‘I think you mean to strike at Bismarck himself.’

Luis was astonished by this allegation. But Radcliffe did not flinch.

And Hackett continued relentlessly, ‘I can even guess at the logic.’

‘Go on.’

‘To avert a European war. We all remember the poor Prince with his dreams of unifying Europe under a drowsy dynasty – he married his and Victoria’s eldest daughter to the crown prince of Prussia to achieve just that end. Well, that didn’t wash with Bismarck. Now you have this tremendous brute of a German dog prowling around a European back yard that has been more or less at peace, as we all know, since the downfall of Napoleon. And in Bismarck you face a man ruthless and determined and of tremendous political and strategic skill—’

‘Who might be the ruin of us all,’ Radcliffe said, nodding. ‘And who, as you say, has terminated a half-century of relative peace on continental Europe with a terrible war, and he and his successors might spark off more before the hash is settled. No, the man has to go before he does any more harm, and spends any more lives. Which is where you gentlemen take the stage.’

Hackett nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, this is a step up from the Underground Rail Road, and your petty bits of spying. Even compared to the time you had us go into Sebastopol during the siege.’

Luis raised his eyebrows; he hadn’t heard of that one.

Burdon gave Radcliffe a mocking smile. ‘But what exactly is it you would have us do? Abduction, assassination? Of the German Chancellor? Are you serious? Do you expect us to believe that Her Majesty’s government would stoop to such a tactic? This isn’t some Balkan principality, you know. And besides, such an act would probably destabilize all Europe and bring us to war even faster than Bismarck with all his scheming ever could.’

Radcliffe kept calm. ‘It is the will of Her Majesty.’

‘Phooey,’ said Burdon. ‘Produce her and let her tell us so herself.’

Hackett seemed appalled. ‘Have some respect, man.’

Radcliffe stood. ‘If only you would come to the archive, I could explain the scheme better. We have documentation – maps – reports – it is already an expensive and carefully considered operation.’

Burdon said, ‘Determined to get us down in that hole in the ground, aren’t you?’

Radcliffe took a breath. ‘Also there is someone waiting to see you there. You met a prime minister once before, in Lord John Russell, many years ago. And now—’

Burdon laughed out loud. ‘You expect us to believe that you persuaded old Gladstone, not just to support your bonkers scheme, but to turn up in person and sit in some cellar waiting on the likes of us?’

Hackett seemed confused. ‘It does sound rather unlikely, Mr Radcliffe. If you would care to clarify—’

But Burdon cut him off. He stood, facing Radcliffe. ‘All I would care to clarify is that this meeting is over. Ta-ta, Radcliffe, and thanks for the tea. Now if you’ll show us back to our brougham—’

‘Now,’ Radcliffe said softly.

Luis, still sitting, sensed rather than heard the massive form step up behind him. Then it was as if a thunderclap went off inside his head. He was aware of two, maybe three powerful men grabbing him and flinging him to the ground.

And he fell into the dark.

When he woke, he was in the well-remembered vault under Windsor Castle. Radcliffe, evidently, had got his way. And when he tried to move Luis discovered that his wrists and ankles were locked in shackles of heavy iron.

In the gas-lit gloom, just as before, here were the decent but not ostentatious furniture, the shelving with books and records, the doorways leading to further rooms crowded with gifts and gewgaws: the clutter of monarchy. It seemed just as it had been when Albert had leaned against the fireplace opposite, quoting his own speeches about duty, and Luis had thought he’d glimpsed Victoria hurrying by … All that, he realized, was nearly a quarter of a century ago.

But while the room hadn’t changed, its human occupants had. Here was Radcliffe, standing before him with a cold smile. Luis, Burdon and Hackett, all of them struggling back to consciousness, shackled side by side in armchairs, each with a red-coated soldier at his back. There were more soldiers at the doors, by the walls, even in the rooms beyond.

As Luis moved his battered head the pain returned, a clamouring like gunfire. He bit his tongue to force himself not to cry out.

There was a nurse before him, a sweet-faced girl in a uniform. ‘Drink this,’ she said. She held up a cup of some liquid to his lips, warm and tasting of honey; he gulped it down greedily, and the pain in his head started to abate.

Hackett’s face was ablaze with fury. ‘You all right, Valienté?’

‘Been better. Head still works.’

‘Good man. Burdon?’

‘Better than you’d think, old boy.’

Burdon seemed oddly at ease. But then, Luis reflected, he seemed to have been in control of events since they arrived here, more so than Hackett. Luis fervently hoped he still was – somehow.

Hackett looked up at the man standing before them. ‘What’s the meaning of this? What the deuce are you up to, Radcliffe?’

Burdon laughed. ‘Yes, and where’s Bill Gladstone? It was all a blind, wasn’t it? The whole business of Bismarck – probably even our bogus trips to Berlin on government money – all a lure to get us into this trap.’

Radcliffe ignored him and studied Hackett. ‘So, Dr Hackett, are you impressed with the way we took you down? I’m fly to the dodge, you see.’

More East End slang, Luis noticed.

‘This is the way we’ve learned to tackle you Waltzers. Hit you with overwhelming force before you’ve got time to think about it, before you’ve time to slip away to whichever corner of hell you godless creatures visit when you’re not here. And then, unconscious, bundle you up in a hole in the ground like this, where even you can’t Waltz out – how do you put it? – either widdershins or deiseal. Efficient, ain’t it? You won’t give us the lucky dodge again. We’ve been practising, you see.’

Hackett glared at him. ‘What the devil do you mean?’

And Burdon asked, more calmly, ‘Practising on whom?’

‘On more of your sort.’ Radcliffe began to pace, calm, thoughtful. ‘Here’s what you fellows need to understand. Your day is done, you and your flash tricks. You were always something of an indulgence of the old Prince, God rest him. But once he had gone it was clear that Her Majesty had always found you rather repulsive. “More shadows than men,” she said of you.

‘Meanwhile I and many of my colleagues have always been suspicious of the power you wield, and the notion that it is only through your own good will that we can have any surety that you will not turn your powers against your own government. Why, every one of you when he’s had the chance has used his talent to enrich himself, has he not? You, Burdon, with your phantom gold mine, and you needn’t think we haven’t unravelled the truth about that. You, Valienté, with your absurd act as the Great Elusivo.’

‘What, are you a critic now? I got good notices in my time. Why, once in the Observer—’

‘Even you, Hackett! Pious and pompous as you are now, you weren’t so as a younger man, were you? I’ve a file on you as thick as my arm. No, you’re too dangerous to be allowed to run around uncontrolled, d’ye see? And then there’s the whiff of—’ He sought the right word. ‘The whiff of the unnatural about you. We’re British, by God, a manly race. And we don’t want your shifty, slippery sort pollutin’ the blood, no matter how useful you may occasionally be – and, I’ll grant you, you have been. Well, we’ve decided to bring you in – beginning with you three, among the first to present yourselves here all those years ago – what colossal arrogance you showed then! And now the first to be taken down.’