The only sound in the shop was the monotonous ticking of the many Victorian clocks that Waterfield had on display.  Each of them was set to the correct time, showing it was 9:27.  There was no light on inside the shop, but the objects for sale were bathed in the pale glow cast by a nearby street-lamp.  From to time the headlights of passing cars flashed across the displays, causing shadows to writhe and leap about the antiques.

The entrance to the store was a solid oak door with a frosted glass window set into it.  The words: EDWARD WATERFIELD, GENUINE VICTORIANA and the shop's telephone number were painted onto the glass.  A small card in the window showed the hours of business.  The shop had been closed for several hours now.

The Doctor and Jamie sauntered past the window, acting like casual passers-by intrigued by the objects they could half-see in the gloomy shop.  As he bent to perform this pantomime, the Doctor's eyes whipped about the street.  There were no other pedestrians close enough to view his actions with suspicion.  Quickly, he pulled an old ID badge he had collected once from a pocket.  It was laminated plastic, perfect for his purposes.  Standing on tiptoe, he slid the edge of the card through the small gap at the top of the door until he felt it touch the trigger of the inevitable doorbell.  Holding the card in place to stop the bell ringing, he tried the door.

It opened silently, and the Doctor pushed it wide enough to allow him to slide inside.  Jamie followed him.  The Doctor closed the door gently, then carefully removed the card to replace the bell switch.  He stuffed the card back into his pocket, tapped the side of his nose and gave Jamie a big grin.

The dour Scot scowled.  'I don't know what you're so cautious about,' he complained.

The Doctor waved his hands frantically.  'Ssshhh!' he hissed.

Lowering his voice a little, Jamie continued: 'They left the door open for us, didn't they?'

The Doctor didn't answer.  He was carefully scanning the room, looking for any sign of tripwires or other evidence of a trap.  He was well aware that he and Jamie had just been invited into their unknown enemy's lair and had to be prepared for the worst.

The clocks all hit the half-hour together.  There was a chorus of chiming and ringing from all over the store.  Jamie jumped, then glanced at the nearest grandfather clock.  'It's only half-past nine,' he pointed out.

'Yes, I know that, Jamie,' agreed the Doctor.  He continued to stare into the shadows.

'But they made the appointment for ten,' Jamie continued.  'Why did you come so early?'

'It's the early bird that catches the worm,' replied the Doctor.  He pulled out an old pocket watch from his baggy trousers and compared it to the grandfather clock.  It was running fast again, so he adjusted the dial, then dropped it back into his pocket.  'Now do be quiet, there's a good fellow.'  He held up a warning finger.  'And don't knock anything over.'  He set off towards the door at the rear, brushing a plinth as he did so.  The tall, expensive-looking mock-Chinese vase on the plinth swayed and fell.

Jamie caught it before it could hit the floor.  He gave the Doctor's back a filthy glower as he replaced the vase.  It was not worth mentioning the incident - the Doctor hadn't noticed that he'd ignored his own advice.  He was completely absorbed in studying the antiques offered for sale.