Investigating in an old church. The authorities trying to get through a secret door on one side of the passage, didn't need our help, all under control little ladies. An alcove on the other side of the passage, the vicar's daughter levering wood and stone with a crowbar, there's something back here she says. I check the authorities haven't seen us and step in to help her. She won't let me take the crowbar, slow work. Eventually she lets me help; stone is plywood, wood cardboard, it lifts and it's a sort of tool cupboard back there, ordinary stuff like rakes and overalls but why boarded up like that? There's a strange tool I don't recognise, like a round medallion on the end of a stick, maybe it's a vicar thing. There's also a window in the back wall, covered with an iron grill; on the other side of it, an ordinary office, beige and grey, with a computer, cluttered desk, filing cabinets and fan. No other way in or out of this tiny concealed space. Torn between disappointment that it went no-where and curiosity at the increasing strangeness.
Cheerful thug in the road checking there were no police around, me walking across the road towards him, happy. He turns back to the road and waves his villains forward, the coast is clear! Behind him I see a little old-fashioned Police van bristling with cops, like something out of an old comedy, drive onto the bridge over the road and suddenly stop -- I almost said screech to a halt, but it moved completely silently! I walked over to the thug and pecked him kindly on the cheek, amused that they all would very shortly be caught. I am not sure but I think he was completely unaware that I was there.