The Last Constable whirls as you approach her. 'What? What? Tell the Cheery Man I want nothing of his! Not a thing!'

You assure her you have nothing to do with him, and invite her to Caligula's coffee house to talk. She's a regular. The staff bring her the 'usual' - a dangerously deep mug of the number four special. She drains half of it in one swallow. 'I'm sorry. I haven't been sleeping well. There's a big investigation and only me to do it. The other Special Constables all turned their coats for the Masters and went to work at the Ministry for Public Decency. Traitors.'

'We were getting so close. The Cheery Man is the lynchpin of criminality in London. If we can bring him down, the rest will crumble.' The Last Constable squeezes your wrist with a trembling hand. 'I need someone on the inside. We can serve a greater good, but not without getting our hands dirty. Sink into the filth. Make them think you're one of them. Then I'll contact you again.'