Stories got around quickly enough. The boy was either a master thief (unlikely due to how easily he'd been caught, and it didn't sound right) or something far more dangerous. To himself and others, if the police had noticed him. Secrecy was paramount, and that was part of his job. The other part was finding young people with 'potential' and funnelling them into the right places.

"Right then, you," one of the officers said as he unlocked the jail cell early in the morning. "Bail's paid."

The man only a few steps behind him was tall and exceptionally broad with a cabby's cap pulled down just a bit over his face. He looked over at the sound of the cell door and nodded.

"Good," he said, his voice carrying a strong Russian accent. "Come with me."