Judas returned to Scotland Yard with a spring in one step, the skateboard ankle was still throbbing, but his brilliant, smile-inducing idea was still making him chuckle and more than made up for the slight discomfort. The lack of recognition from the front desk was bothering him less and less each day, too, and he rather enjoyed the reaction of one of the new constables when he declined to show him his warrant card or identify himself. He hadn’t used civilised language, and he hadn’t been very polite, but Hey Ho, they could report him for foul language to the new Super if they wanted to.
Back at his desk and in his creaky chair, Judas read the report Nora had given him once again, and then he reached over for the old but trustworthy ‘Bakelite’ desk phone and dialled the number for the mai
