Doctor Who_ Illegal Alien - Mike Tucker [23]
'Look, Professor,' said McBride impatiently, his words emerging on a tide of cigarette smoke. 'I don't want to seem a pain in the ass, but... well, we don't have a lot of time.'
If the old man was offended by McBride's interruption he didn't show it. He smiled and carried on. 'A certain wealthy criminal seeking specialist advice sought me out. He offered me a generous fee, and as the information he required was relatively harmless in nature, and in any event I happened to know shortly to become declassified, I gave it to him.
Unfortunately, once one has begun to tread such paths one can rarely leave them. My reputation spread among the London underworld and... well, one hardly likes to refuse such people. By and large I find them tolerable.'
'Why didn't your friend help you out?' asked Ace. 'Seems a bit of a scummy thing to do, dropping you in it and then leaving you there.'
'Oh, no, young lady,' Limb replied. 'He had a great political destiny to fulfil. I was a mere functionary, and dispensable. Still, enough about me. May I ask how you came to know about my little... consultancy?'
'Sharkey,' said McBride, between lungfuls of American tobacco smoke. 'You got an ashtray in here?'
The rain had settled into drizzle by the time Ace and McBride left George Limb's house. Ace had found his company spellbinding; McBride's excruciating.
'Why did you have to do that?' she complained to the detective as they walked back through the high Regency ghost town.
'We got what we came for, didn't we?'
That was true. George Limb had kept the pair or Ace, at least entertained for more than an hour, talking freely and gently, describing the changes to the life of the city forced by the war, talking about life before the war, before the previous war, far back into the reign of Queen Victoria. If history at school had been like this Ace might actually have passed her 0level. He had fed them tea and sandwiches, commented wryly on Ace's singular mode of dress and speech, and politely tried to ignore Cody McBride.
Finally, McBride had cut in once again and just as rudely as the first time.
'Look, Mr Limb, I hate to break up the history lesson but we need some information. You might have read about the thing that came down a couple of nights ago. Big silver ball.'
'Oh, yes,' Limb had replied with a smile. 'I thought I had seen your face somewhere before. Celebrity... such a fleeting mistress nowadays. And becoming more so. Have you noticed how more and more people seem to become famous for briefer and briefer periods of time? Who knows where it might all end?'
'The sphere, Professor,' McBride had snapped. 'We need to find it. Military Intelligence took it away. We need to know where they took it.'
'And what, might I ask, do you intend to do with this knowledge? I'm sorry, but I always make it a rule to ask. You surely don't intend to steal it?'
Ace had shot McBride a guilty glance. Obviously, the thought had occurred to him, too.
'I see...' Limb had spared them the awkwardness of answering. 'Well, I might as well tell you... the Peddler factory on Lavington Street.'
Ace groaned. 'But we've just '
McBride shushed her. 'What goes on at the Peddler factory, Mr Limb?'
George Limb looked at McBride carefully. The government carries out certain... activities there. But I really should counsel against attempting to gain entry.'
'Security tight, I guess...'
'Well... actually, no. The last time I was privy to this sort of information I have to say that security at the Peddler factory was a shambles. Of course, that was some time ago.
My political friend the one I told you about once threatened to drive a number eleven bus full of passengers into the factory, just to make the point. He didn't, of course. A shame, really. I wouldn't have put it past him...'
'Peddler. OK, thanks.' McBride was on his feet. 'Well, it's been great chewing the fat with you. We must do it again