Archbishop Charisma interrogated MacFarlane using the crucifix: "this your adobe? your Castillo?" and MacFarlane talks like a stool-pigeon under the third degree, he babbles: "no, no, it's a hotel, you know, a hostel, this is just my suite, my rooms, just rented, for me and my two associates, they'll be back soon, hoodehell you find me?" and the Archbishop smirks: "an accident, we no lookie for you, but hunting heretics is our vocation so you'll do!" and MacFarlane seizes on this: "who you lookie for, maybe I can find him for you, yes? my organisation, we specialise in tracing people, even the ones who slip under the radar. . . . ." at which the Archbishop slashes the crucifix before MacFarlane's glazed eyes: "you confess you know him then? deluded Quixote from La Mancha?. we follow him into a cavern, nine different tunnels, he go one way, we go another, to trap him but instead we walk outa de wardrobe in de udda chamber – some kinda trick, eh? de power of de ennead? how many doubles, trebles, and accumulators can you get with nine? eh? my local bookie gives me 502, I'd have needed an army to cover tham all, it's so frustrating, but it led us to you!" and the Archbishop’s eyes narrow with a nebby sort of malice and he presses a small stud on the crucifix and a sharp blade flicks out, now he holds it, like a dagger, pointing directly at MacFarlane's swivelling left eye; and meanwhile, in the ana, where he has been all along, hidden among the coats and hats, Mr Scratch is listening intently, rather amused by this strange turn of events and wondering when the virus that had entered the Scotchman's ear from the Huawei G5 phone will make it's presence felt – oh, yes, that part is true, very true indeed! it will be interesting to hear what kind of psychobabble it will produce from his flapping lips before it really takes him overboard!