He should really keep moving. It's rather easy to feign being hard of hearing, isn't it? But he finds himself turning back anyway - spinning halfway back around over the course of a single stride.

"Who, me?" Of course him. There's not really anyone else in the courtyard. Filling it full with stinking offal and shards of glass will do that to a place. "No, not at all. In fact, I barely know what the Inquisition is."

Bartimaeus, the rift shard in your hand is right there.