My name is Peter Grant and until recently I was just another probationary constable in that mighty army for justice known to all right thinking people as the Metropolitan Police and by everyone else as the filth. My only concerns in life were avoiding a transfer to the Case Progression Unit – We do paperwork so other coppers don’t have to – and where to get a hot coffee while on late shift. Then one night, in pursuance of a murder inquiry, I tried to take a witness statement from a man who was dead, but disturbingly voluble and that brought me to the attention Chief Inspector Nightingale, the last wizard in Britain.