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And do you know what he did as soon as he heard he was dead? Put in an offer to buy the shop's contents.'

'Quick work.'

'Well,' said Thales, slightly embarrassed, 'I only know this because I did the same thing. But he'd beat me to it.' He sighed. 'I doubt there would have been

anything of museum quality, but you can never tell. Some of the greatest finds

come out of places full of junk.'

'What would Dupre's interest be?'

'He - Have you met him?' The Doctor nodded. 'Well then, you know he fancies

himself quite the occultist. The modern-day heir to Aleister Crowley'

'He's even duller than Crowley.'

'Crowley's writings do give the impression he was a bore, don't they? And you're right, Dupre is worse. How did you meet him? On one of his ghost tours?' The Doctor nodded again. 'Well, there you are. What more do you need to know? Those ridiculous stories. All his magical theorising is like that. He seems to have put The Golden Bough and The Golden Legend exactly on a par, and to believe both.'

'Would he have wanted the charm?'

'Probably. He wants anything somebody else thinks is valuable. But I doubt Chic would have let him know about it. Dupre's the kind of person who would buy a charm like that and then sue when it didn't work.'

'Could he have afforded it?'

'I don't know. He has money. He's a big contributor to the New Orleans Cemetery Society. He sponsors the Nightmare of Horror.'

'I'm sorry?'

"The Nightmare of Horror. It's a haunted house that runs every year for the last two weeks in October. The money goes to a couple of cemetery preservation groups. I've never been, but I've heard that it's very well done.'

'So what will he do with Chic's stock? Magic?'

'His idea of it,' said Thales dismissively, and returned to his notes.

The Doctor turned his attention to the exhibits. As he had gathered from his initial perusal, the museum's collection was small but very interesting.

Thales obviously used his budget to purchase a few rarities a year rather than a quantity of ordinary artefacts. 'Has Dupre ever tried to borrow any of your holdings?'

'Oh, of course. I wouldn't let him near them.'

Thales neatly folded his notes and made his way through the second room to the rear of the house. The Doctor watched his powerful shoulders dragging the near-helpless legs. Not for the first time he was thankful for his own body's apparent ability to heal any injury short of fatality. Fatality itself, he assumed, was still fatal, though he sometimes wondered what would happen when things actually came to the test. Well, as the saying went, time would tell.

He bent over a case to decipher a page of a Latin treatise on demonology.

He suspected Thales was going to ask him whether he believed in magic, and he wasn't sure how he'd answer. Yes, no, the word doesn't mean what you think, there are more things in heaven and earth, the laws of the universe are complex and not fully known He looked up and saw Thales in the far door of the second room. He'd apparently been watching the Doctor for some minutes. Now he looked quickly away. 'I've made some coffee.'

Thales's small kitchen was clean and spare, as if he were a man for whom food was unimportant. He did have an espresso maker, though, and a fine old cypress-wood kitchen table, and he served the coffee in two heavy Italian mugs painted with fantastical marine motifs. The Doctor looked at the colourful sea serpent on his. "The lamps of his mouth, the doors of his face.'

Thales sighed. 'Such a harsh book, Job. Though not without hope: "The great rain of his strength.""He discovereth deep things in darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death."'

'In a way,' the Doctor mused, 'a magician is trying to rebut the God of Job.

All those arrogant questions the deity asks. Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?

Canst thou send lightnings? Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee? The magician wants to be able to answer yes. One can hardly