Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [113]
‘Everything is for the best,’ he assured her. ‘In time.’
He dropped the manuscripts back into the drawer of the cabinet. There was a deadness in the sound of their landing, a finality in the drawer sliding home. But her attention was on neither. Her eyes were fixed, watching the movement on the top of the cabinet, as she told him what he wanted to know.
‘Thank you,’ he breathed when she was done. He leaned forward slightly, and she pressed her head back into the pillow, afraid for one terrible moment that he was about to kiss her.
But he was leaning towards the cabinet. Cuthbert Simpson held out his hands for the rats, and they scuttled into his open palms, their claws clicking on the surface of the cabinet in their skidding hurry, segmented tails curling and twitching as they nestled in. He straightened up, placing each of the creatures in a pocket of his torn jacket.
One of them peered over the top of the pocket, its nose testing the air as its eyes showed him the way to the door.
He paused in the doorway, once again framed in the amber light from outside. Susan Seymour could just make out his movement as he pulled something from inside his jacket. It looked like a pack of cards. Except that they were square. He seemed to be lining them up along their edges, forming them into a shape. A box. She knew instinctively, as if from some memory or knowledge that was not her own, what he was doing. What it meant.
‘It is all for the best,’ she whispered to herself as she let her eyes close and the dreams take over once again.
* * *
Simpson stepped out into the corridor. He felt no elation, no satisfaction at the completion of his task. Others could worry about the morality and the consequences: he had only to live with them. As the door clicked shut behind him, the plain three-inch cube that rested on his open palm coughed and wheezed and disappeared. His task was complete, at last. At long last. He could go home now. If they – if she – would have him. He started down the corridor.
It was the last thing he never did.
* * *
About the Authors
Over the past ten years Andy Lane’s writing career has flitted erratically between TV tie-in novels, TV novelisations, short stories, scripts, non-fiction books and, tragically, trading cards. He hopes to write something using his own characters one day.
* * *
Over the past ten years Justin Richards’s writing career has flitted erratically between magazine articles, technical manuals and help text, short stories, scripts, non-fiction books and, happily, no trading cards whatsoever. He hopes to write something that really makes a lot of money one day.
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Table of Contents
Front Matter
Beginnings: 1798
Arrival: 1898
Finale: 1968
Body
The Account of John Hopkinson (1)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (1)
The Account of John Hopkinson (2)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (2)
The Account of John Hopkinson (3)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (3)
The Account of John Hopkinson (4)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (4)
The Account of John Hopkinson (5)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (5)
The Account of John Hopkinson (6)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (6)
The Account of John Hopkinson (7)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (7)
The Account of John Hopkinson (8)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (8)
The Account of John Hopkinson (9)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (9)
The Account of John Hopkinson (10)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (10)
The Account of John Hopkinson (11)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (11)
The Account of John Hopkinson (12)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (12)
The Account of John Hopkinson (13)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (13)
The Account of John Hopkinson (14)
The Report of Inspector Ian Stratford (14)
The Account of John Hopkinson