Poe looked at him blankly.
‘DoctorWho. The one David Tennant played. Although, I guess you could be thefourteenthDoctor.’
Before he could stop himself, Poe said, ‘Why?’
‘Duh,’ the man said. ‘Because Tennant returned to the role in 2023. I’m the iconic fourth Doctor, obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ Poe said. The moment the fourth Doctor had disappeared, along with his Jelly Babies, he tapped out a text to Doyle. It said: YOU 2 ARE SOOOOOO FUNNY. He got a line of laughing emojis a few seconds later. He was about to send the same text to Bradshaw, but something stayed his hand. She hadn’t seemed happy when they’d split up.
Poe wandered over to a small stall. It was the first one he’d seen that didn’t have a crowd of people hovering. The stall owner was painting little figurines like he was six years old.
‘All right?’ Poe said. He peered at the name of the game. It was in a Gothic script and had a picture of some men and women at what looked like a séance. The stall owner’s name badge said BARTY. ‘What’sThe Liar’s Clubabout, Barty?’
‘It’s a hardboiled detective game,’ Barty said. ‘The player assumes the role of one of twenty cops and the object is to solve the riddle ofThe Liar’s Club.’
Poe waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. It seemed that was all the information Poe was getting. ‘And it’s a role-playing game, is it?’
‘ThinkDisco Elysium, but with a better combat system.’
‘No, I don’t think I will.’
‘Do you want me to talk you through the rules?’
Poe ignored the question. ‘DoesThe Liar’s Clubrequire twenty-sided dice, Barty?’
Barty frowned. ‘What an odd question,’ he said. ‘As it happens, it does. A pair. The players throw them to—’
‘Can you fax me your mailing list?’ Poe said, holding up his NCA ID card.
‘Not from here, mate.’
‘Where’s “here”?’
‘Twenty twenty-five.’
Everyone’s a comedian, Poe thought. ‘Email it then.’
‘I can’t do that either. Data protection. I think you’d need a warrant or something.’
‘Do you evenhavea mailing list?’
Barty nodded. ‘Four thousand members ofThe Liar’s Clubget a newsletter twice a month.’
Poe picked upThe Liar’s Clubflyer. It displayed the only thing Bradshaw would need to access the mailing list – the name of the company and their website. He thanked Barty and wandered across to the next stall. This one was for an RPG calledTrail of Tears.
He listened to the guy’s pitch then ran into the same problem. He soon realised that Bradshaw had been right – there was more chance of the British Museum returning the Elgin Marbles than of gaming companies willingly sharing their mailing lists. The laws on data protection were rock solid. And the stalls on the periphery were the minor players. The one-man bands. He imagined that when it came to the bigger, more established companies, he’d be given even shorter shrift.
Instead of persevering, he did what Bradshaw had asked – he grabbed as many leaflets as he could. If anyone asked what he was doing, he told them he was a games vlogger. He didn’t know what a vlogger was, but he’d overheard a bespectacled girl use the term when she was asking for information. It had seemed to work.
Poe’s stomach growled. He wasn’t hungry but he could smell one of the hog-roast food stalls. He circled back to where he was due to meet Bradshaw and found a seat. She wasn’t there. That was unusual. She was always early. He checked his watch. He was on time. He was on time and Bradshaw was late. Henoticed a crowd had formed. A crowd had formed and Bradshaw was missing. The two things were rarely unrelated. He got to his feet just as a man wearing a Viking helmet started shouting at someone much smaller.
Someone wearing elf wings.
Shit.
Chapter 32
Poe pushed his way into the crowd. It was mainly men in fake armour. They had encircled Bradshaw like hyenas. Most of them were carrying replica swords and replica axes. One of them had a longbow. Role-playing games were very violent, Poe thought. A man in his way yelled, ‘Have her scrubbed and brought to my tent!’ Poe dug him in the small of his back. The man turned and saw Poe’s expression. He fled. Poe ploughed forward. Eventually he got to the front.
