“The Chiswick Townswomen’s Guild?” Will’s voice had a certain sneering quality to it.

“You will learn in time the scale of the evil,” said Rune. “And then you will believe. But we do require funds. And how better to earn these, than for you to take on a bit of detective work?”

“I’m not a detective,” said Will. “What do I know about detective work?”

“You came from the future,” said Rune. “You know all manner of things. You know for instance why Sherlock is going to Dartmoor, do you not?”

“Actually, I do,” said Will. “I read it. He’s going to solve the case of the Hound of the Baskervilles. The butler did it, by the way. It’s often the butler who does it.”

“There you are,” said Rune. “You are possessed of knowledge that is denied even to me. This,” Rune tapped the buff-coloured envelope, “is a big case. A big historical case. A famous case. Solve this, gain the reward money, aid me and return to your own time, what could be simpler?”

“Ah,” said Will. “Now I see. You told Holmes that I could solve the case, because you knew that I could. Because you knew that I’d know who the criminal was, because the case would be history to me. Even if much of history has been erased and hidden.”

“Exactly,” said Rune. “Although I could have put it somewhat more eloquently. And bear also this in mind. We are acting for Sherlock Holmes; his reputation depends on him solving all the cases that he is given. You wouldn’t want to let Sherlock Holmes down, would you? You wouldn’t want him to lose his place in history?”

Will shook his head. “Go on then,” he said. “Let’s have a look in the envelope.”

Rune slid it across the tablecloth. “Everything depends on this,” he told Will. “Holmes’ reputation, you getting back to the future. Everything. It does. Trust me, it really does.”

Will shrugged and sighed. “If it’s a famous case, then I probably do know,” said he and he took the envelope and opened it.

Will pulled out papers and glanced at them, and then Will began to laugh.

“You know,” said Rune. “You do know, don’t you?”

Will laughed some more and then some more. And then Will stopped laughing and said to Hugo Rune. “If everything depends on this, we’re stuffed.”

“Stuffed?” said Rune. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” said Will. “That we have been given a case to solve that cannot be solved. Is never solved.”

“There is no such case,” said Rune.

“There is,” said Will. “And this is it. The case of Jack the Ripper.”

13

“Excellent,” said Hugo Rune. “Unsurpassed, incomparable, quintessential and prototypical also.”

Will shook his bewildered head. “And this would be the Australian aardvark in aspic, or possibly the Bavarian brown bear in blueberry sauce, or even the cranberry-covered Carpathian coypu? Or is it the Dalmatian dog in the Danish pastry?”

A meat feast of heroic proportions spanned the table’s distance between himself and The One and Only. Rune had ordered all but everything on the Café Royal’s menu.

“Each and all.” The Lad Himself took up a napkin and wiped away jellied eel from the corner of his mouth. “But above and beyond that, your earlier assertion that the case of Jack the Ripper cannot be solved. It will certainly put the mongoose amongst the cobras when you solve it, don’t you think?” And he forked up a helping of fried French ferret and plunged it into his mouth.

Will shook his bewildered head a second time, noting ruefully as he had upon so many previous occasions, that Hugo Rune’s mode of food consumption mirrored exactly that of Will’s own father. Like father, like son, like father, like son and so on down, or up, the ages.

“The case of Jack the Ripper cannot be solved,” Will said once more. “It’s never solved.”

“Have I taught you so very little?” Rune enquired. He dined from several plates simultaneously and fed as he spoke.

“You have taught me nothing,” Will replied. “Well, perhaps a few things. Which hand to hold my eel fork in, for instance.”

“Then let me tell you this. And I will keep it brief for fear that the grilled goat gets a skin upon its gravy. You, my boy, have been returned to this period in time to use what knowledge you possess in putting things to right. Your presence here affords us the opportunity to change the future. To create a new and better future. To thwart the plans of the evil ones who seek to alter it for their own advantage.”

“The Chiswick Townswomen’s Guild.” Will’s face once more had a sneer painted over it.

“Evil in human form,” said the sage. “And pass the sage and onion sauce if you will.”

“I will,” said Will, passing it.

“All right.” Rune poured the sauce all over his hummingbird hotpot. “In order that you might be returned to your own time it is necessary that we change things. By changing things we change the course of history.”

“I really don’t understand.” Will helped himself to a slice of impala. “It’s all rather complicated.”

“It’s simplicity itself.” Rune pulled a platter of Jamaican jackdaw in his direction. “We are going to cause a few ripples in the ice cream of time. According to your history, Jack the Ripper was never brought to book for his horrendous crimes. What if you were to rewrite the menu of history? Strike off the first course and add a delicacy of your own.”

“And that would help to make things right?”

“It’s a starter,” said Rune. “And speaking of starters, did I finish all those kiwi kebabs?”

Will nodded. “You did. And you ordered a second portion which you similarly consumed.”

“So much to eat, so little time. Life in a coconut shell.”

Will pushed lemur in lemongrass sorbet about on his plate. “But what I also don’t understand,” said he, “is why both you and Mr Holmes want me to take on this impossible case. If Mr Holmes isn’t going to take it on himself, why don’t you do it?”

“Me?” Will now found himself sprayed with half-masticated morsels of marmoset meringue. “I am a mystic,” quoth Rune. “A magician. An avatar. A perfect master. I am not a mere detective.”

“But I’ll bet you’ll take the credit if I do solve it,” Will said. “And all the reward money.”

“What was that, boy?”

“Nothing.” Will helped himself to some neck of newt. “But the case cannot be solved. So it’s all neither here nor there, really.”

Hugo Rune shook his great bald head. “There is nothing that cannot be done,” he said and again he tucked into his tucker.

They ate on in silence but for Rune’s occasional belchings and calls to the waiter for further wine. Will, all alone with his thoughts, pondered upon the situation. What, just what, might happen if the most unlikely event was to occur and he was actually able to bring Jack the Ripper to justice? Jack was one of the most notorious criminals in all history, not because of the scale of his crimes, but because of the mystery that was attached to them, his motives and the fact that he was never caught. History would record Will, if Will could stop Rune taking the credit, pile accolades upon him. He would be forever known as the man who caught Jack the Ripper, when the police and Sherlock Holmes had failed. That would be big kudos.

And it would change history: a bit, anyway.

But a big bit as far as Will was concerned.

But then, and then a big “but then” crossed Will’s mind.

But then, Jack the Ripper was a psychopathic killer. Not a man to be trifled with. Tackling him would be a risky business: a very risky business.

Did the pros outweigh the cons?

A great big smile spread up either side of Will Starling’s face. How often was an opportunity like this ever to occur in a lifetime? Never at all, was the answer to that. But as it had … well.