Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [82]
Indeed, the barrier was beginning to shift under the repeated kicks. Harries had got an arm through the gap between the door and the frame and was patiently squeezing his body through.
Catherine closed her eyes and concentrated.
Nothing happened.
Susan reached over from the bed and grabbed hold of one of Catherine’s hands. Baker put a fatherly arm around her. Hopkinson, the Doctor, Kreiner and I stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the final breech.
‘Before it’s too late, Inspector, thank you for being so tactful,’ Hopkinson said.
‘There’s no point in arresting you yet, Mr Hopkinson. Besides, I could hardly accuse you of killing the gentleman who is trying to break the door down. It’s an interesting little legal problem, isn’t it? We are about to be murdered by the man that you yourself murdered.’
The light shone from his lenses. ‘That’s not what I meant, Inspector.’
I looked over at Susan, clutching on to Catherine’s hand for dear life. She was so beautiful and so far away. ‘The problem with being cynical,’ I said softly, ‘is that you give up on lost causes before they are lost.’
Hopkinson looked serious. ‘All cynics are romantics underneath, Inspector. That’s why they become cynics.’
‘I hope you’re both very happy together, Mr Hopkinson.’
Hopkinson looked towards the door, or what remained of it. ‘Yes, so do I,’ he muttered.
I turned to see Catherine Harries screwing her eyes up in deep concentration. If this didn’t work we were finished. I turned back. ‘Can I ask you something, Mr Hopkinson?’
He nodded. ‘Of course, anything.’
‘Have we met before?’
Hopkinson smiled. And this was a real smile, not the mask he usually slipped on. His head moved enough so that I could see through his glasses to the compassion in his eyes. ‘I was wondering if you remembered,’ he said. ‘It was some years ago. I handled the preliminary arrangements for your divorce.’
The door burst open. The barricade was down. Nightmare entered the room.
Richard Harries staggered towards Hopkinson and me with outstretched arms. Most of the flesh had been ripped off by the attack on the door and I could see the muscles and tendons that were his hands clench as he approached.
And relax as he slowed.
And fall to his sides as he came to a stop, three feet in front of us.
‘Point proven, I think,’ said the Doctor
I smiled. ‘Purely circumstantial,’ I replied, and my voice shook with the released tension.
Behind me I heard Susan say, ‘Well done, Catherine.’
Simpson was muttering quietly on the bed. Praying perhaps.
‘What do we do now, sir?’ asked Baker. Hopkinson glanced over at me.
‘Tie him up and bury him in a sealed coffin,’ I said, taking command again. ‘That should be safe enough, and Miss Harries won’t have to spend the rest of her life telling him what to do.’
I turned to her.
‘Can you keep him stationary, Miss Harries?’
Her face was strained but her voice was perfectly calm as she replied, ‘Yes, I believe so.’
‘Right. Baker, Mr Hopkinson, Dr Friedlander – perhaps you could come with me. We’ll need some chains to tie him up with. Miss Harries, Miss Seymour, perhaps you could stay here and keep the… keep Professor Harries still. As for you, Simpson…’
But Simpson was asleep on the bed.
‘Protective healing trance,’ the Doctor muttered to Kreiner.
‘You mean –’
‘I mean we were expected. Or half expected anyway. They couldn’t be sure.’
‘You sound surprised,’ I said. ‘I understood that the experiment couldn’t go ahead without you.’
The Doctor glanced over at me, his gaze guileless and clear. ‘Our contribution is vital,’ he said. But I don’t think he was talking about Professor Harries’s experiment.
‘Come on,’ I said, and we edged around the cadaver and moved towards the door.
‘We’ll be back as soon as possible,’ said Hopkinson reassuringly as we forced our way past the wreckage of the door.
Baker turned to me as we walked towards the head of the stairs. ‘I’m not sure if I can credit all this about Dr Harries, sir,’ he said. I could sympathise. Baker’s previous experiences had hardly prepared him for what we