Doctor Who_ Match of the Day - Chris Boucher [2]
‘So memory is necessary for rational intelligence,’ the Doctor said. ‘But it doesn’t guarantee it.’ He smiled as he spoke but that did not make the comment any less cutting.
When his agent, Jerro Fanson, eventually came on the line Keefer said without preamble, ‘Jer, I’ve just taken a non-contract hit. Chancer on the motorway with a high-velocity long gun.’
On the small viewscreen Fanson’s chubby face frowned with concern. ‘You all right?’
‘He blew a few holes in the floor of my runner.’
‘The floor?’
‘I bounced on him.’
Fanson grinned. ‘Gaudy kid. Very gaudy.’
Keefer didn’t smile. For all that Fanson was his agent and Keefer liked him, he was an outsider to this. What had happened between the attacker and Keefer linked them in some way that Keefer himself did not understand. It was as though they shared some secret, some guilty secret that they could have admitted only to each other. With a genuine pro’
the link would have been stronger, but Fanson’s admiration was an intrusion even when the opponent had broken all the rules.
‘It’s messy enough to get us some good coverage,’ said Keefer, ‘if you stir up your contacts.’
Fanson shrugged unhappily. I’ll try kid, but I doubt we’ll rate a mention tonight. Starvil took a spot challenge about two hours ago. And lost.’
‘He’s dead?’
‘As last hour’s news.’
‘How?’
‘Open field garrotte. It was all over in five minutes. Starvil went down like a stumbling amateur.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Keefer. ‘Starvil was the best. Open field was his speciality.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Fanson, looking gloomy. ‘Hand, knife, garrotte, no one could touch him. Only somebody did. His agent’s screaming foul and trying to hit the Guild insurance fund. He’s got no chance. It was a private challenge but it was legal, notified and legal.’
‘Forget his agent!’ Keefer snapped. ‘Who was it took Starvil?’
Fanson looked hurt. ‘His agent’s bleeding kid and why not?
He had a lot invested.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Nobody knows. It was an anonymous notification. I reckon it was Coodar. She and Starvil had a thing going for a while.’
He shrugged. ‘They fell out.’
Keefer shook his head. You don’t waste a Prime target like Starvil without earning.’
‘That’s what his agent says. Where are you? I’d better get on it if we’re going to make the newscast.’
Keefer glanced round. ‘R4 southbound, junction 4 by 12. I shouldn’t bother though.’
‘There may be an angle.’
For the first time Keefer smiled. ‘You’re a good agent Jer, but you’re not that good.’
‘A Hit and a Miss in the Afternoon of Death,’ intoned Fanson. ‘It has possibilities.’
‘It stinks,’ said Keefer, still smiling.
‘That’s why it has possibilities,’ his agent said and broke the connection.
While he waited for the tri-dee recording unit, Keefer moved round the runner checking the possible camera angles with the practised eye of the professional performer. Finally he bent down to peer at the shattered remains of his would-be assassin. Only now that his nerves had steadied and the practical demands of his trade were uppermost in his mind could he bring himself to examine the man he had killed. As he stared at the corpse it took Keefer several seconds to register that what he was looking at was not a man at all.
Leela retied the leather threads at the tip of the knife sheath round her leg just above the knee. ‘You have lost control of the TARDIS again,’ she remarked as she checked the contents of the combat pouch she also carried on the belt of her hide tunic. Whetstone, blood-staunch patch, energy chew-stick, painkilling herbs and hair comb - yes they were all there. ‘That is why.’
‘That is why what?’ the Doctor demanded, though he knew perfectly well what his bright and irritatingly observant young companion was about to say.
‘That is why you are angry with me.’
‘I’m not angry with you,’ he said, his face a study of patient irritation. ‘Nor have I lost control of the TARDIS.’
Leela said, ‘You were not pleased when the flickering light went out.’
‘It went out