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By Root 366 0

ten yards behind him. He glanced back, smiled, and then ascended the stairway so quickly and effortlessly he seemed almost to flow. The two overseers clattered up the steps behind him, the porcine man pouring with sweat and puffing out his rapidly reddening cheeks. However, if the object of their pursuit was to prevent the Doctor from reaching their employer, then it was doomed to failure. The Doctor was at the top of the steps long before they managed to catch up with him.

'Good morning, Mr Seers,' he said, his voice riding above the din of the machines. 'I've been looking forward to meeting you.'

'Have you indeed?' Seers-said frostily. 'And who might you be, sir?'

'I'm known as the Doctor. I'm investigating the death of one of your former employees.'

'On whose authority, may I ask?'

'My own mostly,' said the Doctor, then added, 'I'm helping the police.'

Seers stared at the Doctor for a moment with cold, hard eyes. He seemed to be weighing up the situation in his mind.

At that moment the two overseers reached the top of the stairway and rushed forward, panting. Mr Beech reached out to grab the Doctor, but Seers, his eyes suddenly blazing, lunged forward and stayed the man with a hand on the shoulder.

'This man is from the police,' he said, his clipped, almost hissing voice audible even above the machines. 'Afford him some courtesy, if you will.'

Beech retreated, cowed. 'Sorry, Mr Seers, sir. He didn't tell us that.' The Doctor shrugged and grinned. 'I like to keep people guessing.'

'Which of my former employees' deaths are you investigating, sir?' Seers asked when the two overseers had slunk resentfully away.

'You mean there are several?' said the Doctor.

'I mean, sir, that I have many former employees. I surely cannot be expected to continue to provide for them all?'

'Of course,' said the Doctor.'How silly of me.' He rubbed his forehead with the fingers of his right hand and adopted a pained expression.'Do you think we might talk somewhere a little quieter? This constant noise is giving me a headache.'

Seers hesitated.

'Your office, perhaps? I take it you do have an office?'

'Certainly. Follow me, please.'

Seers led the way along the catwalk and stopped at a wooden door inset with two frosted-glass panels. His name was painted on the door in elaborate gold script. He hesitated again, as though trying to remember something, then pushed the door open. The Doctor noted that Seers's gaze swept quickly around the room as the two of them entered, almost as if he was checking to make sure that everything was in place.

Seers waved the Doctor to a seat, and sat down himself, behind a large, heavy desk. The office was panelled in dark wood. There were charts and maps on the walls, a glass-fronted cabinet full of books and ledgers, a hat-and-coat stand over which Seers's overcoat and top hat were draped, and various other freestanding cupboards and cabinets, on top of one of which was a large globe of the world, and on another a marble bust of Queen Victoria.

Gas lamps gave the room a cosy glow, but the Doctor noticed that the fireplace contained nothing but pale grey ashes.

'Brr,' he said, rubbing his arms. 'It's chilly in here. Don't you keep a fire burning?'

Seers glanced at the fireplace. 'I do not feel the cold,' he muttered.

'Most convenient,' said the Doctor. 'Must save you a fortune in fuel bills.'

Seers failed to respond to the Doctor's flippancy. In his clipped, cold voice he said, 'I trust you did not wish to waste both our times questioning me about my personal habits, sir?'

'No,' said the Doctor. 'Time is money, eh?' He jumped up from the chair he had barely settled into, crossed the room and began to spin the globe idly on its axis. He closed his eyes, stabbed a finger at the globe as it was spinning, then opened them. 'Paraguay,' he said. 'Do you know, I don't think I've ever been there. Must rectify that some time. Tell me, Mr Seers, what do you remember about Tom Donahue?'

The question had come unexpectedly, almost as a natural extension