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He stepped out into the cold night air, heavy mist shrouding the city. Pausing on the entrance steps he zipped up his jacket and pulled his woollen hat over his ears. The Anglican Cathedral had been stolen.
He walked through the wrought iron access gate onto Hope Street and its junction with Canning and Upper Duke. The streets were silent. Had it not been for the 20mph speed limit sign on the Victorian lamp post, he might’ve thought he’d travelled back in time.
In nearby Rice Street at The Crack, a onetime popular haunt of Lennon and Sutcliffe in their Liverpool College of Art and Gambier Terrace days, he found himself a seat in a secluded corner and sat quietly drinking three pints of real ale before returning to his hotel, through the fog.
The following night, in a quiet backstreet in the Liverpool district of Wavertree, Nicks dispassionately shot dead a former Liverpool Councillor whilst the man searched for the keys to a house in which he lived alone.