Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [58]
Steinmann stepped inside. In the corner of the cell, an emaciated figure sat crouched, its eyes staring wildly, but not focused on anything in particular. Her face was bruised and cut. She seemed to have registered his presence.
Awkwardly, she pulled herself upright. She was tall and skinny, and couldn’t quite straighten herself. Her brunette hair was greasy and unkempt. She mumbled something.
Steinmann inspected her. She had clearly not changed her clothes for some time; there was a urine stain running down her trouser-leg. Her feet were covered in cuts and her right hand was in a splint. Two of the fingernails on the other hand had been torn off. Steinmann instructed her to turn around and lifted up her shirt. As he had suspected, her back was covered in red weals where she had been whipped.
‘Joachim! Get in here!’ he shouted. Wolff appeared, framed in the doorway, arrogance written all over his face.
‘Is there a problem, sir?’
‘How can you have done this? I wouldn’t treat a dog like this.
What did you hope to achieve?’ The prisoner was swaying slightly. Steinmann caught her before she fell.
‘Nurse. Bathe this patient, then place her in another cell, one with a bed. Provide her with a light meal. I shall join you shortly.’
Kitzel hurried forward and relieved Steinmann of his load.
The patient was mumbling something, and Steinmann had to concentrate to catch it. ‘Doctor, Doctor, you saved me. I love you, Doctor.’
It had been staring him in the face. This woman was the Doctor’s accomplice: while he was down on the beach, she had been on the clifftop. She would provide an additional incentive for the Doctor to co-operate with him, if an additional incentive should prove necessary.
‘Joachim, this prisoner is valuable, and I am taking over the interrogation.’ Once Summerfield had been led from the room, Steinmann continued. ‘It is the declared policy of the Reich that we keep all spies we capture alive.’
‘Summerfield is alive, sir. I remind you that she killed one of my men.’
‘Would you have treated a man the same way? Did you really need to break the neck of that poor girl at the docks?
Wipe that expression off your face: I’ve read your file. You are a sadist and a bully, but you focus your aggression on women. An unhappy childhood, perhaps?’
‘Psychoanalysis!’ spat Wolff. ‘I expected better from you than Jewish science. You’ve done worse to prisoners, sir.
Water treatment, the merry-go-round, the dentist’s drill.’
Steinmann wasn’t listening. ‘That will be all, Standartenführer. I will question the prisoner myself when she is able to speak. Joachim, we need the Doktor, don’t doubt that. Without his knowledge, everything we have planned might collapse around us.’
‘I look forward to seeing you at work, sir.’ Wolff remained defiant.
‘You may attend the first session, but you will be leaving this afternoon.’
Wolff frowned. ‘So soon? I had thought that — ’
‘You don’t play chess, do you, Joachim? We have to think ahead. At the moment we have the advantage, but one lucky move from our opponents could decide this. They might find a chink in our armour; they might work out what Hartung has built. The Doktor did. I’ve neutralized him, for the moment, but we are still vulnerable.’
Wolff stood to attention. ‘What are your orders?’
‘We shall proceed with the plan.’
Kendrick read through the notes for a third time. Roz glanced nervously at Reed, but his attention was fixed on the admiral.
For the first time, Forrester had her doubts about what she had done. Kendrick was an expert in the field of raid analysis, and in her book that made him superior to any machine, even the TARDIS computer. If he were to challenge her on a point of detail, then she might not be able to answer him. It would become clear very quickly that she hadn’t written the report.
‘This is incredible.’ Kendrick whistled. In credible? Not credible?
‘In what way, sir? she asked, trying to keep calm.
‘You’ve cracked it, Captain Forrester. You’ve done it! I have to tell the Cabinet.