The boxy thing doesn’t fit in her pocket, so she just holds it. There’s tape over the voice and video input. That, too, is a common precaution among tourists in the System. She puts on the cape, then tears a piece of the map and folds it up, jamming it into the heel of one of the overshoes before slipping them on. The cadence of her walk will be fractionally altered. Marilyn Monroe, history records, put a sliver of cork in one shoe to give her hips a sassy twitch. The Inspector will get only a minor redistribution of weight to the other heel, a consequent shift in sacral alignment. The clumsy overshoes will force her to take smaller steps, and will encourage her to a flat-footed shuffle. With the hood up and starting from a random location, the System won’t immediately recognise her. She guesses that she will have at best twenty-four hours from the moment anyone starts seriously looking.