He displayed a box with the words SONY MP3 PLAYER printed upon it.

‘Now, I confess that I am baffled by that one,’ I said. ‘I think it might be an electric razor, or possibly a hearing aid.’

‘It will not be invented until the turn of the twenty-first century,’ said the Magus, gravely. ‘Future technology, Rizla. This might well explain how the Reich gained the atomic bomb before the Allies, might it not?’

‘Indeed it might,’ I said. ‘So must we really burn the lot?’

‘I regret that we must. But do not lose heart. You did very well. We have a powerful weapon now, sitting there in my conservatory. And when the time comes for us to use it, we will use it wisely. Well done.’

‘Why, thank you, Mr Rune,’ I said. ‘Thank you very much.’

And we clinked our brandy balloons together and Hugo Rune toasted me.

‘There is only one thing that still puzzles me,’ said the guru’s guru, ‘and that is the matter of the tarot card.’

‘THE SUN?’ I said.

‘THE SUN, indeed. I am still at a loss to understand its significance. You did tell me everything about your adventure, didn’t you, young Rizla?’

‘Ahem,’ went I. ‘Pretty much so,’ I said. And my fingers were crossed as I said this.

‘Really?’ said Hugo Rune. Smiling. ‘Well, isn’t that odd, then? Because I see two possible interpretations of the card. But if you have told me all, then I must discount them.’

‘As a matter of interest,’ I said, ‘what might these two interpretations have been?’

‘Well,’ said the Magus, and he peeped at me through his brandy balloon. ‘The Sun was, in ancient times, worshipped because it was considered to be the father of the Earth. And then, of course, you have the word Sun itself. How easily might such a word be misspelled, or misused? As in son, perhaps.

‘Which would leave us with father and son – would that mean anything to you?’

And Hugo Rune did lookings at me.

And I did lookings at him.

And he winked and I smiled.

And no further words needed saying.

I wondered a lot about all that had happened. And I knew that all was significant. That field generator stood there in Mr Rune’s conservatory and I certainly wondered about that.

Had it, I wondered, somehow been the means by which Mr Rune had transported himself and myself into this age? He had used the word Retromancer to describe himself, [7] hinting that it was through his magic that we had travelled back in time. But that field generator did not look like the product of the nineteen forties. Even though it bristled with valves and copper coils, there was still too much of the future about it. Had it, perhaps, been invented in the future and then found its way into the past?

And I was certainly not comfortable about it just sitting there, amongst the potted aspidistras and late-flowering triffids. Surely the underground network of German spies would soon locate it. Surely Mr Rune’s life would be in danger.

And mine also.

‘Dismantle it,’ I said to Mr Rune. Upon a Bank Holiday Monday in the August of the year. ‘Pack up the pieces and ship them away to various bank vaults, under assumed names, and-’

‘Rizla,’ said Hugo Rune. ‘Do you want that egg?’

‘I certainly do,’ I said, moving my plate beyond his range and shielding it with my fork. ‘But please leave my breakfast out of this. I am very worried about that machine just standing there in the conservatory. What if the manse were attacked? What if the Germans snatched it away? They must be furious about losing it.’

‘Hopping mad,’ said Hugo Rune. ‘My overseas sources inform me that Count Otto Black has had to return one of his Iron Crosses to the Führer.’

‘Was Count Otto in charge of the project, then?’

‘He is their man in Brentford, so to speak.’

‘Perhaps we should just smash it up,’ I said.

‘No, Rizla, no. Its moment will come. Please do believe me on this. Some things are inevitable. Some things will surely happen. For example, if I draw your attention to the barrage balloon that hovers up there-’ And he pointed towards the window.

I followed the direction of his pointing. Observed no such barrage balloon and returned my gaze to my breakfast.

Which now lacked for an egg.

‘You thieving swine,’ I said.

‘Some things are inevitable,’ said Hugo Rune. ‘I was only seeking to prove a point.’ And he dabbed at his mouth with an oversized red gingham napkin.

‘So,’ I said, ‘if today we are to have a special word and that special word is to be “inevitable”, I suppose you are about to read an article in the newspaper that will be the inspiration for a new case. Which in turn will involve a visit to Fangio’s, where we will engage in a conversation that, although appearing irrelevant at the time, will later prove to be of great significance. And also we will revisit Mr McMurdo, who has probably now been relieved of his weight problem, but to such a degree that he floats at ceiling level. Then-’

‘Stop that, Rizla, please. Are you suggesting that there is some kind of formula involved in the way we do business?’

I shrugged and said, ‘Well-’

And Hugo Rune struck me with a sausage. ‘Beastly boy,’ he said. ‘We have but two more cases to deal with here, before we move on.’

‘We have six more cases,’ I corrected him.

‘Six more cases,’ said Mr Rune, ‘but only two more of them here. After they are dealt with, Rizla, we will be leaving this country.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘And where will we be going?’

‘To America,’ said Hugo Rune. ‘Aboard a great big liner.’

‘Really?’ I said. For this seemed most exciting.

Hugo Rune counted on his fingers.

‘Why are you doing that?’ I asked.

‘I’d like to know how many seconds.’

‘How many seconds until…? No, hold on, America?’

‘Sixteen seconds,’ said Himself.

‘ America?’ I said once more. ‘We cannot go there, Mr Rune. America is going to get blown up by an atomic bomb.’

‘It is our job to see that it doesn’t.’

‘Yes, I know, but what-’

‘What if we do not? Then that will be the end for us.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ I said. And my hands began to flap and I began to turn around and around in small circles.

‘And stop that foolish behaviour. The bomb will not fall upon New York for months yet. We have plenty of time. And think of that nice ocean voyage.’

‘I can think of the enemy submarines,’ I said. ‘We will not be travelling on the Lusitania, will we? I am not a very strong swimmer.’

‘Wrong war, Rizla.’ Hugo Rune shook his head and picked up the daily paper. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Now here’s a thing.’

‘An inevitable thing?’ I asked.

What drew the eye of Hugo Rune now drew mine as well.

‘Should I read aloud?’ I asked.

The Magus nodded. ‘Go on.’

HIGH SPIRITS – BARMAN CALLS TIME ON PRANK-PLAYING POLT

The landlord of The Purple Princess, Brentford, has engaged the services of an exorcist to free him from the torments of a ghost known locally as Gusset-

I ceased my reading at this point. ‘What is this old toot?’ I asked. ‘There is no haunting at The Purple Princess. Fangio is surely up to something.’

Hugo Rune did thoughtful noddings. ‘The rest of the article does seem to consist of praise for his beer and high recommendations of his bar food and flavoured crisps.’

‘Well, this is not a case, then,’ I said. ‘There is nothing to investigate.’

‘Possibly so,’ agreed Mr Rune. ‘But as it is myself whom Fangio has engaged as exorcist, I do not think we should let that stand in the way of a free lunch.’

‘I was once informed that there is no such thing as a free lunch,’ I said, in a wistful manner.