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Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [44]

By Root 394 0
‘Action, sir?

‘Did you notify your master?’

Simpson was scandalised. ‘That’s not my place, sir. I am only telling you now because of… because of events, sir.’

There was a muffled thud from outside the door. Baker, standing beside it, opened it quickly. He could see nothing out of place from his viewpoint, closed it again and shrugged at me. I returned to Simpson.

‘Is there anything else you think you ought to tell us, Simpson?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Very well, Simpson. You can go.’

‘Thank you, sir. I’ll just be retiring now.’ His extracurricular duty discharged, the butler left the room.

‘Interesting,’ was the only thing I could think of to say.

‘Indeed, sir,’ Baker rejoined. ‘Especially as mint dies back during cold spells, and it has been, as you’ll have noticed sir, snowing outside.’

I frowned. ‘But Simpson should know that. He’s been butler here for how long?’

‘Many years, sir. Longer than I can remember, actually. And yes, he should know that.’

I tried to say something to Baker, but all that came out was a huge yawn, followed by a sheepish grin.

‘There’s nothing else we can do tonight,’ said Baker, eyes twinkling. ‘I suggest we get some sleep, sir. And start afresh tomorrow with Miss Harries and Miss Seymour, if Miss Harries has recovered from sedation. I’d be interested to know what she thought of her brother.’ I nodded, too tired even to say anything. Whilst we had been questioning Simpson, exhaustion had tended upon me like a cloud.

We left the study and walked towards the stairs. Someone had dropped a vase by the banisters; blue porcelain fragments lay on the deep pile of the carpet like angular pools of water. Next to one of the fragments something glittered in the light from the lamp in the hall. I bent down to pick it up, and found to my surprise that it was a perfect circle of plain glass attached to a ribbon.

‘Mr Kreiner’s monocle, I believe,’ Baker said. ‘I think we were overheard, sir.’

‘We can confront Herr Kreiner and the Doctor tomorrow. If they’re not here, we’ll just take it as an admission of guilt and apprehend them before they can leave the country.’ I sighed. ‘And to think I only came here to collect a letter.’

‘Saved me the price of a stamp, sir,’ said Baker smiling at me before vanishing into the first of the two rooms that had been allocated to us.

I undressed quickly, washed, and climbed into a bed that seemed large enough for a regiment. It settled around me, leaving me lost and floundering in the centre. Finally I found the edge of the mattress and spent the rest of the night poised between empty air on one side and suffocating stuffing on the other. I slept badly, awakening regularly every few hours. Shortly after dawn the sky outside my window was milky and opalescent and the sun was just a brighter area with no boundaries. It seemed only a few minutes later that the horizon was lemon-sharp against a blue background so deep that it seemed to go on for ever. If I dreamed then the memories fled before morning.

* * *

THE ACCOUNT OF JOHN HOPKINSON (6)

As I had suspected, Baker had already arrived by the time I found the others in the study. What I was less prepared for was the presence of his associate. How, I could not fathom, but as soon as I set eyes upon the tall, lean man I knew why he was here. He had come for me. It seemed that he recognised me just as instantly, for he greeted me by name, and with such assurance that George thought we were already acquainted. As he introduced himself (and even his name seemed familiar, although I did not then know why) I had a chance to study Inspector Stratford.

He was, as I have said, a tall and thin man, his shape emphasised by the ample figure of the sergeant beside him. His face was slightly narrow, matching his nose, and he exuded an air of calm and confident efficiency and authority. He made me feel uneasy; he had the advantage and he knew it.

Although his eyes had not shifted from their study of me, I realised that Stratford had been talking to George, and presently we were sent to wait in the drawing room while Stratford and

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