John sat in his broken down dive in Liverpool, the room smelt of damp and tobacco with nothing but a single candle to bath it in amber light. John sat cross legged in the center of the room all the furniture pushed to one side, in his calloused hands he held an envelope that had somehow found its way to his door in the night. Very few people knew where 'The Laughing Magician' was hiding and most of those people would do a lot worse to John if they caught him asleep than simply deliver a letter.

Tossing it from one hand to another John decided if he were going to be poisoned he might as well get it over with and tore open the top of the envelope turning his face away. When he saw the official letterhead for the 'Military Intelligence' branch of the government John's wooden pipe fell from his mouth with a light clunk. Crinkling his eyebrows he pulled the letter fully out of the envelope. Constantine was no longer the street-rat he used to be and had acquired a whole manner of skills in his life, one of which luckily for him was the ability to read.

Skimming the first line John stared at it for a moment "Well #%*& me, the coppers found me again." The man muttered in a surprisingly gruff scouse accent. John had been doing occasional jobs with various government agencies in an attempt to get on the good side of the law, the path he had taken often ended at the gallows.

It was true magic was an awfully beastly business, you could always follow John by the trail of dead friends and furious enemies he'd leave in his wake as he drifted from escapade to escapade.

Whoever this inspector was he knew how to find John and a man who had the tenacity to follow John's trail wasn't going to take no for an answer. It was a good few days until the 25th but then again he'd need the time to travel south to Birmingham. 

Without packing a single item John hopped on the closest carriage he could find heading south, after all it was easy to trick the driver's minds into believing they had just been paid handsomely to escort a foreign dignitary to a summit.

After one day of travelling John found himself at 'The Old Crown' walking in he smiled knowingly, he loved a good pub. Deciding it best that he not order a pint before meeting with a secret government operative, John made his way to the door for the back room.

Raising a single hand he knocked a light rhythmic beat on the door. Awaiting an answer as he idly spun his pipe between his fingers.