Somewhere in a storage room sat a poor, half-clad porter, unconscious, gagged and tied up. Steve, meanwhile, stood on the platform in his shiny new outfit, 'helping' a gentleman. He was sober enough to make a polite conversation, which was why he needed the money. This gentleman looked wealthy enough, and so Steve had picked him.

"Of course, sir," he said, talking as 'properly' as he could. Thank God the vagrant wing of the workhouse had offered him a bath last night and a shave this morning. He looked almost professional. "Shall I take your luggage for you?"