Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [63]
Slowly, the first flakes of a new snowfall began to drift from the silent clouds above us. As they settled, tears began to run down Kreiner’s face and mingle with the snow.
* * *
THE ACCOUNT OF JOHN HOPKINSON (10)
I met them in the hall, quite by chance. Stratford was leading the way, Baker close behind him. Fitz Kreiner brought up the rear, his head bowed and his expression sullen. At first I mistook his demeanour for thoughtfulness, but as he looked up I caught his eye. And I could see the depth of sadness that lurked behind his eyes. In that moment, without asking, I knew what they had found.
As we stood, sullen and subdued on the hallway, Stratford offered a brief explanation. Baker asked Stratford who was to break the unpleasant news to the others. I offered, but the inspector insisted that he should. I did not argue. I was too shocked. I felt empty, as if someone I had known for many years – not just one day – was gone. The Doctor had surprised me initially by his enthusiasm and energy. Now I could understand at least some small part of what Kreiner must be going through. He had known the man for years, had worked closely with him. They were, in short, friends. Even after our brief acquaintance, I could recall how his eyes had danced with light. And now those eyes, were closed for ever. The dancing was finished.
Kreiner and I waited in the hall while Stratford and Baker went to tell the others what had occurred, and I was glad not to have to be there. We just stood, sharing the silence. For how long we stood there, I don’t know. But eventually, Kreiner looked up at me. I took my cue, and placed my hand on his shoulder. His mouth curled into an approximation of a smile, though his eyes still had a dead, moist quality. Still without a word, we rejoined the others.
I felt numbed when we got back to the drawing room. The pale voids of the others’ faces, I imagined, echoed my own. Only Stratford seemed to be coping; death was a part of his job.
As we entered, Simpson left to finish laying for dinner. I hoped he would have the presence of mind to lay the right number of places: one too many would be unfortunate to say the very least. Stratford followed close after him, taking Wallace with him presumably for some discussion of events.
‘John, what’s happening here?’ I realised I had sat next to Susan on the chaise longue.
‘I don’t know. I wish I did.’ I turned to the policemen. ‘Any ideas, Sergeant Baker?’
Mention of his name seemed to jolt Baker out of his reverie – for the shock appeared to be having a delayed effect on him. He mumbled a few words about finding the inspector as he shuffled out towards the study and his mentor.
‘It’s almost dinner time.’ Elizabeth was holding back the tears. ‘Best to carry on as normally as possible, I suppose.’ They got the better of her. ‘Only it isn’t normal, of course,’ she sobbed and Susan guided her to a chair.
‘Come along, Mrs Wallace. You’ll be all right in a minute, once you’re over the first shock.’
Kreiner watched them. He was tense, angry. His hands were bunched into fists at his sides as he walked slowly across to where Susan was standing beside Elizabeth.
‘Don’t you feel anything?’ he hissed at her as he approached. Whether he had forgotten I was there or was so bound up in his emotions that he just did not care, I don’t know.
‘Steady there,’ I said quietly. But I may as well not have spoken.
‘He’s dead,’ Kreiner went on. His voice was as tense and knotted as his fists. ‘Stone-cold dead. I saw him. In the snow. You know he couldn’t…’ He broke off, as if unsure what he was saying. ‘The inhibition, it affected him too. You know it did,’ he said. Something like that. ‘He was just lying there. And you can’t even…’ He shook his head.
Susan looked up at him, and even from where I was I could see the tear stains down her cheeks. Despite Kreiner’s anger and rebuke Susan had