Once he's back from clearing the room of all potential murder weapons (and a lamp that Mies was looking rather pointedly at), no one gets in Moran's way. First move. Like chess, or poker, it's a make or break position.

The first part is easy. The dice is thrown to him and, never one to overthink things, Moran simply drops it across the middle of the board. It spins, and falls against the Community Chest.

Five steps takes him to Kings Cross Station. That's when he has to stop and get his head in the game. With a train station, he has three options. He could be cautious, and sit where he is. Hang around the station, sit in Caffe Nero for a bit, wait for his turn to come around again.

He could pay a measly twenty quid to the bank, board a train and ride to any other station on the board.

Or he could buy the station. At £200, it's a quarter of his starting budget. That would leave him a bit short. He might fall foul of taxes or purchases. God knows how much the use of the racing car will cost him if he comes across the coppers. But then he'll collect all fares from the station, and the pay-off if anyone needs to be killed or robbed or kidnapped off his patch. It's an investment, but a risky one so early in the game.

He passes his twenty over to Jim at the bank and rides all the way around the board to Liverpool Street. If he can get past Go again, and not get stung by Super Tax or a bad Chance card, he'll be £180 up on the round.

It's a safe, sensible decision. Jim watches him, nodding. That's pretty typical of Moran. He'll start gambling later on, when he's got a safety net. "Good, dependable boy, is our Sebastian," he says, and Milverton laughs.

Seeing Moran wilt, and knowing his probably her closest ally in the room, Danielle strokes his arm as she takes the dice from him. "Don't listen to him, darling. You're strategic, that's all." Shaking the dice in her hand, her thoughts are wholeheartedly on the upcoming roll, but she goes on comforting him, "It's your work, you see. Can't take chances when you've only got one shot at the kill. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is step off."

She fastens her new diamond bracelet around her wrist. Money, after all, goes to money. She's heard a lot of very poor people mutter that, and when she started stealing at university she found it to be true. She wears it like a charm and lets it rattle when she casts the dice.

Two. Two sounds small. Two doesn't sound very lucky at all. But it takes her to the Community Chest, and from the first card on the pile.

Reads aloud, triumphantly, "Gather protection money from local bookies. Collect a tenner from each player. Pony up, boys."

"Good for you!" Charlie simpers at her. "Doubling your money!"

But she's unfazed. "I've gone from Primark to New Look. Next stop, Top Shop." But her smile is just a façade. Behind it, she can't even see the men handing her the paper slips. Danielle's mind is busy, thinking very singular thoughts. She thinks of the number one and single measures of spirits and diamond solitaires and one, one, one, because one more step around the board will give her her beloved Whitechapel, and now she's got just enough money to buy control of it.

And why Whitechapel? Jim knows. Whitechapel was the first place she ever lived when she came to London after university. Silly girl. She's recreating. Silly, superstitious girl, having done so well for herself in life, thinks she can build it again on the board. She thinks it's lucky. Which is always where he gets her. Always. Except for one time she really did get desperately lucky, and one time she ganged up with Moran to kill him off, and that time she came from him with the bronze statuette.

He is distracted from considering his opponents, because Charlie is looking at him. Saying dimly, "What was in your pockets?"

"Oh. Nothing; I got changed before we started. No, I'm a pauper. Fire away, Charlie boy."

While he shakes the dice, "I take it the whole game is still about money, yes? Bankrupt the other players, gain control that way." Milverton is concentrating. Doesn't see them start to smile. By the time the dice clatters down, they're laughing at him. "Or not, apparently."

Drawing moisture from the corner of her eye (drama queen), the bitch breathes out, "Oh, Charles… I expected little more and nothing less."

Jim is kinder. "The money's just a tool. We play for the same thing we're always playing for. Control, mate. We play to run the joint. Four, by the way," and he nods at the dice.

Mies hides a sigh of relief; it takes him past her desired manor.

It takes him straight to the bloody Income Tax. Another pay-out. Maybe play really is going to mirror reality. Maybe he should walk away now before he's humiliated all over again. But as Milverton starts to peel notes from the top of his considerable wad, he hears Moran ask the very unexpected question, "Pay or dodge?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Pay or dodge? You can give Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs their due, or you can cut round it?"

Very tempting. Very tempting indeed. But he's starting to get a feel for how this game works. Warily, "And what's the downside if I choose to do a bit of creative bookkeeping?"

It turns out, there are two ways to hide his hard-earned independent wealth from the Crown. The first is simply to ignore it. Creative bookkeeping, as he called it. But this will earn him the attentions of a police officer. Police are played by coloured tiddlywinks cannibalized from another game. His police officer will start out two squares behind him. Every time Charlie moves, another player will roll the dice on behalf of his devoted detective and it will move too. Should the two ever end up on the same square, Charles Augustus Milverton will go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect £200.

Yes, yes, it seems the game is determined to mirror his life. He shudders and asks, "What's the other way?"

Jim explains, "You pay half the tax to the bank, and we hide the rest offshore."

"That'll do." The bank gets one hundred. 'Offshore' turns out to be the mantelpiece, and Charlie's cash is left under a marker that reads 'Grand Caiman'. He's rather pleased with that, actually. It's nice, having something in his hidden coffers again. Even if it is only a game…

Jim too is pleased. Pleased to see how pleased Charlie is. His recent misfortunes make him weak. Charlie's clinging to any little victory right now. So easily satisfied. It'll stop him really striving for better and better.

So he flies back from his little banking trip and picks up the dice. He can manage this lot. He doesn't even feel the need to taunt them as he casts.

Two squares takes him to meet Danielle at the community chest. He's glad she got there before him. Jim has no desire to collect mean little pittances from petty crooks. He hopes the next card has more of a challenge to it.

"Roll again," he reads. "You cannot buy the property you land on, and must take on one of its jobs." Good. Exactly what he was hoping for. A nice bit of intrigue to get him started off.

The second roll takes him to the Angel Islington. Just a touch annoying; it's a good strategic position, and one he would usually like to buy and own. Still, can't have it all.

This is where the black folder comes in. He gets it from under the coffee table and opens it to find out what's going down on this little patch of North London right now. As it turns out, he's got three jobs to choose from.

Firstly, there's an assassination. It's not an option. It's going to cost him money, and he'd have to hire Moran's cannon in to do the job. Anyway, all assassinations should be left until later in the game, when players have started buying themselves people and allies at various locations. There's the option to start blackmailing a bank manager, but the pay-out isn't huge. Plus, he'd have to buy in the Top Hat. Charlie has money enough. It would be a hard bargain to make it worth his while.

But finally, most delightfully, he's got the choice of ripping off said-bank, and all he needs to do is drop a fish in front of a certain, starving kitty.

"Dani, I want to rob a bank." She shakes her head. Still thinking her silly, superstitious thoughts of ones and aces and one-stone pendants. "Forget Whitechapel," he tells her. "I'll buy you Whitechapel."

Now she looks up. Now she's interested. "Whitechapel and fifty-percent of the take from the bank."

"Don't be stupid. Then you walk away with more than I do. Whitechapel and fifteen-percent."

"Whitechapel and forty."

"Twenty-five."

"Forty, James. I'm broke, not desperate."

"You will be if your next step takes you to Income Tax and you end up in debt. Whitechapel's yours, and thirty percent, final offer."

She bites her lip, thinking hard about it. "If we pick up a cop, you take the heat."

With his money? With his wheelbarrow? "Done," and he slides the Cat up to meet him at the bank.

The numbers one-to-six are listed below the description of the bank heist, next to each number is a potential take, ranging from the petty stick-up amount of £200 to the high-class, four-weeks-of-planning-and-eight-men-inside-the-vault £3000.

But the thief herself has to roll that and the thief sits with her arms folded until her new homestead is bought and paid for and the deed placed in her hand. Then she deigns to pick up the dice. Jim sits very still, concentrating on hiding his tells. He's out £60 with buying her a flat; if they don't come out of this heist with decent money, she still might do better than him from the deal. He just hopes all those ones she was thinking of will abandon her now.

She kisses the back of her fist and drops the dice. It spins on its corner for far, far too long. Mies knows she can't lose, and her eyes are alight. Jim wills it just to land and be done. Then it clicks to one side and Mies starts dancing in her seat. "Six! That's what you get when you hire the best!"

"You jammy cow," Moran moans at her. "Jim, there's a kill on that square. We did it before and I remember. Does loyalty mean nothing to you?"

Not in this game, but he doesn't say that out loud. For one, Moran knows that. For another, he needs a bit of hush and holds up a hand to get it. "Hold on it. For a three or a six we have to roll again."

Robbed and indignant and adding up her cut, "Why?!"

"Just to see if we had to kill anyone on the way out."

"Oh," Mies shrugs. "Well, that's alright. Take it away, then."

Milverton's a little confused. That sounds like the sort of thing that ought to earn them a police tail. Of course, Mies has already protected herself from that, but surely Jim ought to be a little more worried? But rather than look like an idiot again, Milverton keeps his mouth shut. He'll just watch, and see what happens.

Even, they got out clean.

Odd, and that's how many bodies they left behind them.

Jim rolls a three and winces, "Ah, the poor gents." He gives the dead security guard, the teller, and the have-a-go-hero a moment of respectful silence.

Then, it seems, the dice is getting passed back to Moran and everything is going to continue on happily.

"No, wait," Milverton cuts in. "What? Three dead and no repercussions? A few rounds in and you'd built yourself up, I could probably accept that. If you had properties on the spot, I could accept that. But now? Really?"

Mies takes a break from counting her haul and points smugly across the board at her partner-in-crime. "Wheelbarrow! Pile up your dead and roll them down to the river, your Lordship. The bodies are nothing to- Oi! There's only eight-hundred here! Thirty percent of three grand entitles me to nine!"

Jim rolls his eyes and hands her the other hundred he tried to hold back.

It seems cheating and manipulation are to be actively encouraged. Milverton likes that. It makes him happy and distant while Moran starts to shake the dice again. It's only out of simple interest that he says, "And nobody sees you rolling a barrow full of corpses out to the middle of Tower Bridge, do they?"

"Will you relax?" Jim says, "It's only a game."

"You said that as though anyone in this room actually believes it."


[A/N - It has been pointed out to me that I am 'excluding' American readers by using the British set of the game. But I'm writing for 4 UK players here. Wiki has a very good depiction of the UK board and, having recently acquired a set myself (on the cheap because of a damaged box!), I will be doctoring it and posting the images on Tumblr. For pure giggles. Anyone got any ideas how to print up official looking Chance and Chest cards?]