Judas watched London slide past in the upside-down world of raindrops on glass windows. The cab he had hailed was taking the scenic, tourist route back to the Yard. Judas wondered if he should flash his warrant card and speed things up a bit but decided against it, settling back into his seat and closing his eyes instead. He waited for the driver to start telling him about the famous person he’d had in the back of the cab last week but the driver, seeing Judas close his eyes, just turned on Talk Sport on the radio instead.
Judas’ brain started to whirr and click and rumble. He heard the words of the men and women who attended the auction ping–ponging back and forth inside his head. The 10 were the muscle, The 10 were faceless and nameless, The 10 just were, they knew people, they had fing
