“Good morning, Jack,” Mr Doyle said. “Hello Jack,” Gloria smiled. “I trust you’re rested after your adventures last night?”“Rested?” Jack asked. “I slept like the dead, if that’s what you mean.”“A note arrived early,” Mr Doyle said. “We must attend the Prime Ministers residence this morning.”“The Prime Minister…,” Jack’s voice trailed off. “The Prime Minister of what?”“England, Jack” Mr Doyle frowned. “There’s only one.” He scoffed down a piece of toast. “It seems they have received Professor M’s demands.” They quickly finished their meal and hailed a steam cab to take them to the centre of London. The day had turned cold again. Fog shifted among the vehicles on the road as their carriage shunted through the streets till it reached Downing Street. They climbed from the cab. A number of constables strategically guarded the street. Jack imagined even some of the curious onlookers who waited to catch a glimpse of the Prime Minister were probably security guards in disguise.
