Judas should have been at the crime scene already, walking the ground and gathering new intelligence, but his travel plans had been disrupted by a skateboard. Instead, he was sitting on a piece of art, on the Embankment, rubbing one very painful ankle. The bright orange bench he was recovering on was number 17 of 20 apparently, and this one was called ‘Sputnik’ for some strange reason. The benches were all along the Embankment, fortunately for Judas, this one was right in front of the Festival Hall, and he hadn’t had to stagger too far after he’d been ambushed by a deck covered in Palace stickers. He had been on his way to the crime scene in front of the IBM building when the board had nobbled him. The skate park under the main viewing gallery of the Festival Hall was always packed with sk
