Mina waited in the shade of the trees until the crowds cleared and dusk crept solemnly over them. Dark tendrils of night curled up from the horizon, bringing with them a sense of calm after the chaos of the afternoon and Dra'gaan finally nodded in answer to Mina's persistent request to leave.

"Wait, take it slowly," Dra'gaan hissed as Mina marched hastily across the road and in the direction of the Royal Carriage.

"Aren't you tired of waiting? We should have been doing something!" Mina barked angrily. They had lingered in the safety of Green Park despite her insistence that they help in more proactive ways.

"You are not ready for combat," her mentor stated calmly as he caught up with her brisk strides and seized her forearm.

"Well, neither was Verushka. But my friend has been working to stop the assassin for weeks now and I'll bet any money that she was probably down there fighting to save the Queen's life while I had a picnic in a park."

"Your friend was not ready either. And, it was your choice to eat those biscuits in your pockets while you waited."

"You are missing the point. I want to be able to contribute, otherwise what am I here for?" Mina sighed exasperated.

"I am glad you asked." Dra'gaan smiled in that quiet manner of his before continuing. "Our job is to learn more from this situation than meets the eye. Soldiers are a dime a dozen, but we must pull back the covers and find out what truly happened here. What have I taught you?"

Mina frowned as she tried to remember the pertinent lessons and was taken back to her first one near the breweries on the south bank of the Thames. "To pay attention to the detail. Listen, Smell, Watch."

"Exactly. Now survey the scene of the crime and tell me what you determine."

Mina let her eyes track the path that Queen Victoria's carriage's had rolled until its sudden jerked stop. Mina's view of the events after that point had become practically non-existent due to the amassed crowds and Dra'gaans obsession t remain hidden. Her feet drew inexplicably to the spot where the scuffle with the assassin had occurred and thick congealing blood still filled the grooves between the cobblestones. She bent close to the ground and found two brass shell casings from the shots fired earlier. Mina closed her eyes and inhaled. There was the metallic scent of blood, the lingering hint of gunpowder and a musky perfume that was unmistakable. She leaned in closer, trying to ignore the way the blood made her want to heave the contents of her stomach.

Mina breathed deeply, focusing and filtering the wafting scents until her mind unlocked the memory. "I know that perfume. It belongs to a woman, a woman who I think died here- Lady Bianca Rinehart."

Dra'gaan nodded. "I saw them remove a woman's body. What makes you so sure that it is hers?"

Mina rose solemnly. "I trailed her often enough to recognise the smell of her personalised French perfume."

A cold breeze picked up and Mina looked around at the empty streets. Soon the lamplighters would be around to illuminate the street but an Agents task was best conducted in the interim of darkness. "What now?"

"We continue on. There has been a high degree of traffic on the streets but there are always clues if you pay attention. This assassin did not act alone, and we are here to find the remnants of their mark on today."

Mina and Dra'gaan continued to sweep over the streets with a handful of other Agents until they came upon Green Park Arch. Mina recognised the deeply embedded hoof prints of a stopping horse next to a rifle shell casing. Marco had clearly been presiding over the event and it made her smile to think that at least one of them got to take part in the action.

"Oi, Boss," a Division A Agent called out from Hyde Park Corner.

Dra'gaan met his comrade swiftly, with Mina running at full tilt to keep up with his long legs. "What is it, Inspector Hughes?"

"Look, over here."

Mina gazed into the dirt until something glinted beneath a film of dust. "What is it?"

Dra'gaan knelt close to the soil and lifted a small broken brass shard only an inch long. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Mina bounced from one foot to the other, excited at the prospect of a real find.

"This, is a spur, albeit just a fragment. It was specifically designed for the British Cavalry between 1805 and 1820 for the period of the Napoleonic Wars."

"How can you tell?" Mina questioned.

Dra'gaan indicated to the small ornate stud on the side. "This is the head of the British lion. Such attention to detail as evident in the hand engraved filigree on this particular metal is an iconic style."

Mina chewed at the inside of her cheek dubiously. "I don't mean to put a damper on your joy, but wouldn't hundreds of soldiers have the same spur?"

"There were a considerable number of soldiers, yes. But, only the higher ranking officials would have possessed such fine tackle."

"So you know who it belongs to?"

"No," Dra'gaan answered stoically.

"Then why are we standing here staring at a piece of metal like it's the last slice of cake at a party?"

"Because, Mina, we are in the business of collecting clues. Each one slowly adding to the other to form the whole." Dra'gaan looked at his apprentice's unimpressed face before continuing. "Or in your language- we are creating a whole cake, not just one slice."

Mina's eyes brightened and she did her best not to lick her lips and wonder what flavour cake it would be. Plum cake? No... the assassination of a Monarch would probably be a Queen's Cake. No spice, just several eggs beaten within an inch of their life then smothered in vanilla to hide the brutality of the mixture.

"You think that the assassin was being watched from up here?" Mina asked looking down the hill at the site the Queen was attacked.

"Undoubtedly," her mentor confirmed. "I imagine he was being watched by several individuals all with their own vested interest in the outcome."

"Oh," Mina's brow raised in understanding. "Stopping the assassin isn't the end. It's kind of like when I do the dishes but don't clean the drain. The table scraps are gone but the stench remains," she ended wisely.

A small frown creased Dra'gaan's forehead and he looked down at her with a curious expression. "Have I ever told you how much I enjoy your little stories?"

"No," Mina preened.

"Well, perhaps you should consider why that is," Dra'gaan commented blithely with only the barest hint of mirth.

Mina scowled angrily in response before continuing. "And how exactly are we going to find these other people if the assassin doesn't give up their names?"

"I doubt very much he even knows their names. My preferred avenue is to use precision and planning to gather all the information before striking at the heart of the problem, however..." Dra'gaan trailed off and Mina saw his gaze fall on the heavy and erratic hoof prints of an over-eager horse and his rider. "Well, let's just say that there are several methodologies on how this should be approached." Dra'gaan finished.

"So, what now?" Mina asked glancing about at the distant glow of a spark between the trees. The lamplighters began to emerge to illuminate the roads with an intermittent halo around each grubby glass lantern. Several Agents scattered to the wind with their tiny notebooks filled with secret thoughts and musings while others settled onto benches covering their sleeping forms with sheafs of old newspaper, waiting for whatever it was that they were waiting for.

Dra'gaan flicked up the collar of his coat and ambled slowly down the path to Kensington Gardens, his feet following undisturbed markings on the soft trodden dirt. "Now we wait."

"And watch?" Mina scurried to catch up to him.

"Most assuredly." Dra'gaan nodded

"And listen too?" Mina whispered.

Dra'gaan glanced down at her with a wry smile. "Someone is always listening."

Mina chewed at her full lower lip, deep in thought. "Is that someone us?"

Dra'gaan chuckled quietly in response. "Come on little thief. There are still secrets we need to steal."

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A/N:

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Glossary:

Lamplighter: This is a person employed to light and maintain street lights. In some towns they also served as watchmen. Very few exist today as most street lighting has long been by electric lamps.

Lights were lit each evening, generally by means of a wick on a long pole. At dawn, they would return to put them out using a small hook on the same pole. Early street lights were generally candles, oil, and similar consumable liquid or solid lighting sources with wicks.

Today a lamplighter is an extremely rare job. A small team of lamplighters still operate in London, England where gas lights have been installed by English Heritage.

Spurs: A spur is a metal tool designed to be worn in pairs on the heels of riding boots for the purpose of directing a horse while riding. British Cavalry Officer's Spurs from the Napoleonic period resemble the prow of a Viking ship with a bird-like head at each end holding the rowels. The studs on either side of the open end of the spur have classic British Lion's heads on them. They were made by casting the individual pieces, and then hand fitting them together. Circa 1800-1815.