She followed the Embankment around as far as Geraint’s street, driving smoothly down the ramp into the underground garage. It took fifteen minutes to get changed and emerge looking passably like occupants and guests of a nobleman’s penthouse. Rani pulled the hood of the dark velvet cloak over her head as she emerged from the car, keeping her head down as if that would somehow prevent detection. She and Francesca draped Serrin’s lifeless arms around their shoulders while Geraint limped along on his ebony walking stick. Then they were into the elevator at last, and then staggering into Geraint’s flat.