• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

The guard seized Ace by the arm. 'Gently, please,' Limb counselled. 'Suppose the Doctor doesn't come?' Ace snarled.

'I understand the Doctor well, my dear, though not half as well as I should like. In many ways he reminds me of myself, although I am sure I flatter myself by the comparison. I have no doubt that so resourceful a gentleman will have no difficulty in deducing your whereabouts and attempting to effect a rescue. My, how exciting...'

With a flick of his hand he dismissed the guard and turned away.

CHAPTER 22

Dawn was breaking over London. From the fourthfloor window of his office Cody McBride, Private Detective, and Chief Inspector Patrick Mullen, Special Branch, watched the nowpeaceful sky slowly lighten. Below them people were waking, emerging from shelters, reengaging with their daily lives. The city had lived through another night. And what a night.

McBride was ransacking the pockets of his various identical trench coats.

'Out of smokes... out of whisky. Man, I've got to get my life together.'

'You're surely not wanting a drink at this time, man,'

Mullen exclaimed.

A cigarette would do,' McBride replied.

'Here ' Mullen fished a battered packet of Rothmans from inside his overcoat 'have one of mine. And while we're on the subject...'

From the back pocket of his trousers he plucked a slim metal hipflask and unscrewed the top.

'Take a nip of that,' the policeman said, smiling. 'I intend to.' McBride gratefully took a slug from the flask. 'Sorry, I got no glasses,' he said.

'They kinda got smashed.'

'Very wise,' said Mullen. 'We should do the same.

Sláinte.'

'Say what?'

'Pardon?'

'What?'

The policeman grinned.

'I may have misjudged you, McBride,' he said. 'You're not like most of the Irish Americans I've met. Most of them are redhot Republicans. Give half their money to the IRA.'

'Me,' said McBride, 'I'm a Democrat, and I give half my money to Mama. Nah, I'm too busy trying to earn a buck to get political. Say, where's the Doc?'

'The Doc,' said the Doctor, bustling through the door, 'is here. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, gentlemen. I've been working on the head. In his hands he held the corroded, dead head of the Cyberleader.

'You got plans for that, Doc?' McBride asked. 'Cause it'd make a helluva plant pot.'

'Sorry, Mr McBride,' the Doctor replied. 'I need this.

There's still a great deal to do.'

From his pocket he pulled the nowcrumpled map he had removed from George Limb's house. He spread it across McBride's desk.

'Inspector.' he said, 'do these crosses mean anything to you?' With his finger he traced the crescent of ink marks made by Limb.

'Well...'

'They mark the trail of the Lurker,' announced the Doctor.

'Now...' He fished a pen from his pocket. 'These explosions...'

'Explosions?'

'Yes, yes. The ones nobody's supposed to know about.

The ones that the newspapers put down to a new type of German bomb... You remember?'

'Yes.'

The Doctor handed the pen to Mullen.

'Give me a rough idea where they occurred.'

The chief inspector scored the map with a number of broad, heavy gashes.

'That's about the best I can ' He stopped. 'Well I'll be!'

The Doctor smiled.

The trail of the detonations followed that of the Lurker almost identically.

'Doc: McBride cut in, 'are you saying it was the Lurker?'

'No. I'm saying the Lurker was being followed. Stalked'

'By whom?'

'Or what,' said the Doctor darkly. 'I'm about to find out.'

Suddenly he was brisk. 'I must leave you. It's time to take the fight to the enemy. And I still haven't recovered Ace,' he added grimly. 'I've been very neglectful.'

McBride cast his eyes to the floor. In the excitement he had all but forgotten his tough lady ally.

'Before you go, Doctor,' said Mullen, 'I've telephoned the station. Sent some men to Belsize Park to arrest George Limb. He won't escape this time.'

'He already has,' the Time Lord replied. 'He's a very slippery customer?

'What's his game, Doc?' asked McBride.

'Chess,' said the Doctor curtly. 'You know, half of London saw the