• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Eyes still on the board, the Doctor nodded slowly.

He stopped.

Suddenly his eyes shot up.

'Mr Limb, tell me about the Lurker. You said he was strong.' 'Oh, yes.

'If you read the reports...'

He shuffled across to a bureau against the far wall, opened it, and hauled out a pile of newspapers.

'I've been following the case with some interest. In spite of the fact that the press is calling him the new Jack the Ripper, there is something unique about this case.'

'Please, go on.'

'Well, first there is the nature of the deaths. These unfortunate people were not attacked with any kind of edged weapon, nor bludgeoned with a blunt instrument. According to the police and coroner's reports, the early victims were literally torn apart down the middle. I suppose that this might be possible given appropriate machinery and of course time, but the Lurker seems to work fast. No one has come even close to catching him. The last few cases have been even worse: the victims were crushed to death. Quickly, too, judging by the area of the... blast.'

'Blast?'

'Doctor, they were squashed like tomatoes. They literally exploded from the pressure.'

Limb dropped the pile of newspapers with a thud on to the table. 'Do you have these police and coroner's reports?'

'I'm afraid not, Doctor. They are available in the Public Records Office. If you were to make an appointment...'

'No time, no time. What else can you tell me?'

'Well, the press are calling the attacks frenzied, but I'm not so sure. The first killings, at least, seem to show some method. In the first case there was a major intrusion into the body, made, as the coroner rather flippantly said, as if by a fist. The aorta was snapped just above the heart. The end was poking out of the chest. Later, as I said, he literally ripped his victims apart from the chest. Finally, there came the... tomato approach, if you will forgive the phrase. This might seem to betray a gradual loss of control, an increase in frenzy, or on the other hand it might betray an ever more ruthlessly efficient '

'Efficient way of extracting blood from the body.' Once again the Doctor's eyes were on the chessboard. 'It's damaged, of course. If its casing has been damaged, then the sterile fluid interface between its biological and mechanical parts will be under assault from the atmosphere.

Earth viruses. Bacteria. It will need to find some substitute fluid. Earth, 1940. The nearest thing available is... blood.'

'Well, I'm not sure I caught half of that, but '

'Blood plasma, man! Where will I find the most concentrated supplies of blood plasma?'

'In London. The hospitals, I suppose. Those with blood collection centres. The government has been making constant appeals to the public to give blood. The bombing is taking its toll, you know. I think, from memory, I can give you a few addresses.'

'Please.'

Limb shuffled slowly back over to the bureau, extracted a piece of paper, and began writing. The Doctor studied the chessboard.

'Sacrificing the queen. Suicidally brilliant. I predict mate in sixteen moves. I really would love to play a game with you, Mr Limb, but, as I said '

'You don't have the luxury of time,' said George Limb, handing the Doctor the piece of paper. 'I know, Doctor. I know.'

A rogue Cyberman.

It was about to rain. Events seemed to be wrongfooting the Doctor. He had underestimated the complexity of the situation. He was no nearer to finding Ace. And there had been no bus for half an hour. Funny how the war seemed not to have affected the London bus system at all.

A rogue Cyberman. Why was there never a bus when you needed one?

George Limb squinted in the rapidly diminishing light. It looked like rain.

'Well, well...' he chuckled to himself. His eyes darted brightly between newspaper reports and an old map of London. He dipped his elegant pen into a silver inkwell and scratched another cross on the map. 'Well, well...'

CHAPTER 10

It was completely dark. Ace had no way of telling