The likelihood Mathius had property in the British Museum was, of course, ludicrous. And yet, he looked at me with great expectation.

"Your medallion," I said.

He shrugged. "Well, naturally I stole it first, from an old man outside the place. Then the bloody bobbies lifted it from me, didn't they, the last time I was pinched. Gave it to the bloody museum, they did."

This was preposterous. "I'm not breaking the law for you." What an outrageous idea. "I'm not a ...