The guy before me smiled. As if his answer had solved everything.

I tried to keep my expression neutral as internally, I swore. It was a nutjob. Yet another nutjob.

"I'm pretty sure he's dead," I replied, aware this could push the wrong kind of crazy into a rage. I wasn't sure I liked my odds so much if this guy did get aggressive.

Like any officer or detective, I knew my self defense and I could handle myself, but this guy was bigger, stronger and I didn't doubt faster than I would be.

"Oh, no. I was just sleeping. For a long time. A very long time."

"Right." And I'm Cleopatra.

"I was hoping to speak to whoever is looking after the kingdom for me. I think I might be needed."

"Needed. For what? There aren't any monsters to slay, wars to fight or dragons or whatever it is you protected your little kingdom from."

At this he frowned and then he shrugged. "Something woke me up. I'd really appreciate speaking to the steward and getting up to date with what is wrong and what needs taking care of."

I shook my head, wondering when this guy would finally get angry.

"Sorry, Arthur. I hate to break this to you, but we have a monarch. A King. And any Kingdom that King Arthur ruled over doesn't exist any more."

He sat back as if deflated. Again a much calmer reaction to the one I was fearing. If nothing else, this was a respectful nutjob.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked a few seconds later, a tiredness joining the array of other emotions he'd expressed.

"Think about it from my point of view. No one in the history of the last 1400 years or, since we have records of your life, has ever come back to life again. And because it's been about 1400 years, very few records have survived for any of us to know what King Arthur looks like or if there even was a King Arthur. On top of that, how would you even go about proving you were?"

"I have Excalibur. I can go to the lady of the lake and she will show you."

"The lady of the lake? Won't she be dead by now as well?"

My question made Arthur pause again and tilt to one side. It was a look that suited his face, the light making his nose a little softer and bringing out the hazel in his eyes.

"I honestly don't know. Merlin didn't... explain what this would be like. I wasn't expecting to find that no one knew who I was or why I was here."

"Sorry about that. That must be a kick in the teeth."

"It's a kick somewhere, for sure." He frowned again.

"Okay. You seem harmless enough to me, but I can't help you and I also can't let you go around London waving a large sword around and demanding to go to a steward of the city. Have you got somewhere the guys could drop you off? I'll give you a warning and you can promise to not scare innocent folks going about the day and no more trespassing?"

It was another change of tact, but I didn't think we were getting anywhere and I didn't want to be the one to have to persuade this guy he wasn't King Arthur.

"No. I've got nowhere to go if my throne is claimed by another."

"No lady of the lake, no..." I stopped myself from saying Guinevere as I remembered the look of sadness on his face earlier. Although I wanted him gone, I didn't want to see him hurt.

"No one. I think they're all dead."

I exhaled, not sure what to do with that. If he was homeless then he was well dressed for it and he was also well groomed. He smelled a little odd, but not bad. Someone cared for this guy or he took care of himself.

"I'm not about to put you out on the streets either. Can I leave you here a moment and see what I can find you or if someone is missing you from somewhere?"

He nodded as I got up, but he was gazing off into space and through the table as if he was miles away in thought. I hesitated before I walked away, wanting to go to him to reassure him that everything would be okay.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It wasn't like me to want to empathize with someone who was here because they'd committed a crime, even if more accidentally than intentionally. I had to stay professional.

Despite that, I walked out of the interview room with the sole intention of finding this guy a place to stay for the night. I just couldn't bring myself to kick him out onto the streets.

As soon as I'd shut the door behind me, several of my colleagues got up and came over to me, no doubt wanting the gossip and low down on who this guy thought he was and why he'd been disturbing the peace.

"Can you see if there are any facilities for the mentally challenged nearby who have lost a patient?" I asked as the first of them reached me. This told the rest of them plenty.

Something about him had sounded perfectly sane, but I wasn't about to genuinely entertain the idea that I had King Arthur sitting in my interview room. It was probably someone who just had a mental break and needed meds. At least he was being non threatening and waiting patiently.

"Are we charging him with anything?" Stafford asked.

"Not yet, but not likely too. It's like he doesn't realise he did anything wrong and he's being cooperative enough. Slap on the wrists should do the trick."

Lewis nodded, and motioned to the sword. "What should we do with that, then?"

"Keep it safe. If he goes quietly and behaves himself he can have it back." I shrugged. Plenty of people had replica swords in their houses. This could be anything like that.

Heading back to my office, I tried to put this guy out of my head. Until I knew if he was missing from a ward or something, I didn't want to look for alternative accommodation for him.

It didn't take long for Lewis to come back and let me know that no one was missing a patient who did think or might think they were someone else. At least no one nearby. It seemed I was going to have to assume he was sane and get him somewhere else to go. But I wasn't happy about giving him his sword and letting him loose on a homeless shelter.

"What options have we got for getting a homeless person a place to stay that isn't a shelter?" I asked Lewis before he could go again. An irritated look crossed his face before he shrugged.

"I could try and find out, but those sorts of things usually have waiting lists. If you're thinking of putting our guy into a home he's going to have to go in a cell tonight or somewhere else for now."

I could hear the disdain in Lewis's voice, but I ignored it. He didn't like me putting time and effort into this guy either. But I didn't want to just kick him out. And I needed him to promise not to carry the sword in public again. I couldn't in good conscience let him go if I couldn't be sure where he would take it. Public safety, and all that.

Not sure what else to do, I decided to go back to him and see if I could get any more information out of him that would help me put a roof over his head. He had to have slept somewhere last night.

As I strode back in, I was grateful to notice that someone had got him some food like I'd asked and he had devoured it.

"What is this stuff?" he asked, holding up a half eaten chocolate chip muffin. "This is the food of the Gods surely?"

"It's a chocolate chip muffin. I'm pretty sure we teach our kids to make them at about the age of ten. Or sooner." I shrugged and sat down. This guy definitely wasn't normal.

"You know how to make these?" he asked.

"Yes. Among other things."

"Then you are a chef as well as an enforcer of the law? Is it common now for women to hold many varied roles and be treated as superior in these things?"

Again I had to fight to keep the irritation from my voice. This guy was going to grate on me if I had to put up with his misogyny for too long. But otherwise he was very polite and almost adorable.

"I am struggling to find somewhere you can go from here and I can't give you that sword back without knowing you're going to go keep it somewhere safe and out of the way."

"I would like to do that as well. It's a very special sword."

"Let me guess, it's Excalibur?" I asked the question while fighting not to roll my eyes. This was getting very cliche very fast.

"Yes! It is." Arthur seemed more impressed by this than anything else. "How do you know of it?"

"It's a pretty famous sword." I tried to cut this topic of conversation short. In here I was the one who was meant to be asking questions, not him. "I need to know a bit more about you to try and help you."

"Okay. What do you need?"

"Where did you sleep last night?" I asked, hoping that he would give me something I could use. It would be telling if he lied here, but I wasn't completely sure I would be able to tell.

"I didn't."

"What do you mean you didn't? Were you up all night?"

"In a manner of speaking... I suppose."

I frowned, not sure what on earth he could mean.

"You're going to have to explain. If I'm going to find you somewhere to sleep tonight, I need to know what I'm dealing with."

"I didn't sleep anywhere last night because I wasn't on this earth, or plane, or something I can't quite explain. Merlin was better at this sort of thing. I came back just today. I didn't need a place to sleep until today."

Getting up again, I shook my head. This took the whole thing just a step too far.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked.

"No. That you're a long dead king who has a famous sword that was pulled out of a stone and have somehow magically come back to claim your throne about fifteen hundred years later. Do you think you would believe it?"

"Do you not have magic aplenty? Or the books we left with the prophecies in?"

I shook my head, sure about the first question and clueless about the second. For a moment Arthur simply looked at me. Then he picked up one of the napkins from the table and flicked it. It turned into a dove that fluttered about the room.

"There, magic."

As I met his gaze I realised he thought that it was truly impressive. But every magician these days knew how to pull a bird from something. I was only impressed that he'd managed to keep it hidden during a pat down and an arrest. Either Lewis or Stafford must have been slacking in that regard.