Professor Playfair slung his arm around Robin’s shoulders, drawing him in close. ‘Why don’t you and I go and have a chat?’
‘Not here.’ Robin’s eyes darted around the quad. Letty and Victoire were both staring at him over their shoulders. He blinked hard, glanced pointedly at the front exit, then back at them. ‘Not in front of the faculty, you never know who’s listening.’
‘Of course,’ said Professor Playfair.
‘The tunnels,’ said Robin, before Professor Playfair could suggest that they leave the party right then. ‘I’m meeting Griffin and the others tonight at the Taylorian tunnels at midnight, why don’t you come? I’ve got... I’ve got all those documents they’ve been waiting for.’
It worked. Professor Playfair let go of Robin’s shoulders and stepped away.
‘Very well.’ His eyes shone with glee; he looked one step away from rubbing his hands together like a villain on a stage. ‘Good work, Swift.’
Robin nodded, and only barely managed to keep a straight face until Professor Playfair moved on to chat with Professor Chakravarti across the green.
Then it took everything he had not to break into a run. He scanned the quad for Ramy, who was trapped in a conversation with Reverend Doctor Plumptre. Robin blinked frantically at him. Immediately Ramy spilled his wineglass all over his own front, exclaimed loudly in dismay, made his excuses, and beelined through the garden towards Robin.
‘Playfair knows,’ Robin told him.
‘What?’ Ramy glanced around. ‘Are you sure—’
‘We have to go.’ To his relief, Robin saw that Victoire and Letty were already moving towards the front gate. He wanted to follow, but too many faculty stood between them; he and Ramy would have to go out the back, by the kitchens. ‘Come on.’
‘How—’
‘Later.’ Robin hazarded a glimpse over his shoulder just before they left the garden. His stomach twisted – Playfair was saying something to Professor De Vreese, their heads bent close together. De Vreese glanced up and looked straight into Robin’s eyes. Robin looked away. ‘Just – come on.’
Victoire and Letty rushed towards them the moment they stepped outside.
‘What’s happened?’ Letty breathed. ‘Why—’
‘Not here,’ Robin said. ‘Walk.’
They marched at a hasty pace down Kybald Street, then turned right onto Magpie Lane.
‘Playfair’s onto us,’ said Robin. ‘We’re done.’
‘How do you know?’ Letty asked. ‘What did he say? Did you tell him?’
‘Of course not,’ Robin said. ‘But he pretended he was with Hermes, tried to get me to confess everything—’
‘How do you know he’s not?’
‘Because I lied,’ said Robin. ‘And he fell for it. He hasn’t a clue what Hermes does, he was fishing for information.’
‘Then what are we doing?’ Victoire asked suddenly. ‘Good God, where are we going?’
They had, Robin realized, been walking without purpose. They were headed now for High Street, but what would they do there? If Professor Playfair called for the police, they’d be spotted in seconds. They couldn’t go back into Number 4; they’d be trapped. But they had no money on their persons, and no means to pay the fare to anywhere else.
‘There you are.’
They all flinched backwards in fright.
Anthony Ribben stepped out onto the main road and looked them over, counting them with one finger like they were ducklings. ‘You’re all here? Excellent. Come with me.’