At the end of a dead-end alley, in the middle of a very grey town, there was a wall. From the top, right down to the very-nearly-bottom, it was just like any other wall. Its bricks were dirty-red and rusty-brown. It was cracked in places but otherwise quite unremarkable. Twelve wasn’t interested in the bit from the top, right down to the very-nearly-bottom. He was heading for the lowest bricks in the darkest corner of the alley. And the reason he was heading for those bricks was because they weren’t there.