Doctor Who_ The Gallifrey Chronicles - Lance Parkin [31]
Large tyre tracks in the gravel. Not conclusive, but circumstantial evidence that the lorry he was tracking had been here.
66
No obvious sign he was being watched, or that there were guards inside the house. No obvious signs of activity.
The Doctor trudged up the drive, staying alert. He reached the front door, and nothing had happened to him.
He knelt down and peeked through the letter box. A perfectly ordinary hallway.
The Doctor unlocked the door with his sonic screwdriver and went inside.
Thick green carpet, and lots of pictures all over the walls – sepia photographs, old maps, generic country landscapes.
He picked up the post. Six items, all addressed to Marnal Gate. It sounded more like a place than a person. Nothing important by the look of the envelopes, just bills and junk mail. The air was full of dust. The smells were more like a library’s than a home’s – no cooking smells, or pets, or bathroom, or bedroom, or washing. The Doctor followed his nose towards the back of the house.
An impressively large room full of packed bookshelves. Dark and a little musty. Paper and leather. Magazines and books of all shapes and sizes. The Doctor had always been one of those people whose eyes instinctively go to the bookcase in a room. This time, though, his attention was caught by a piece of apparatus on a table in the middle of the room. A large glass jar connected up to pieces of electrical hardware, including an old television set.
It was the only thing he’d seen in the house so far that wasn’t dusty.
He tapped at the glass.
Upstairs, a floorboard squeaked.
The Doctor looked up at the ceiling.
Fitz was looking around. Anji was another of the Doctor’s former companions.
She’d travelled with Fitz and the Doctor for a couple of years, and had left only a few months ago – as the TARDIS flies – to go back to her job at some international bank.
‘You. . . er. . . got a promotion?’ he ventured.
‘I’m on the board now,’ she told him.
‘Isn’t that. . . er. . . a little fast track?’
‘It’s about right, given my proven ability to boost the company’s profits.’
‘Some more stock tips for you, boss,’ Trix said, handing over a compact disc and a handful of other items. ‘There’s also a 3-D camera, a bag of ancient Roman coins, a biomechanical gauntlet and this is a wig made of some new type of plastic.’
Anji walked over to a bare patch of wall and opened a concealed panel. A scanner popped out and slipped over her eye. Then there was a click and a small safe opened. Anji put the items in there and closed everything up.
67
‘Oh come on,’ said Fitz. ‘That’s cheating.’
‘No, just a sensible arrangement,’ Anji said. ‘Everything this company does depends on what will happen. Will a new company succeed or fail? Will a new product sell or flop? How much will insurance companies have to pay out? What will the price of oil be in a year’s time? If a futures trader could see the future, her job would be a lot easier.’
‘We cooked this up between us,’ Trix said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘I send information to Anji, she bases investment decisions on that data.’
‘It occurred to both of us independently,’ Anji added. ‘It’s pretty obvious, when you think about it. It needed one of us in the TARDIS and one of us here.’
‘I wondered why you left in such a hurry.’
‘That wasn’t the only reason. But it’s like any career opportunity – you know when it’s the right move.’
‘Why don’t you find out who won the Grand National and bet all your money on a sure thing?’ Fitz asked, aggrieved.
‘It would take all the fun out of going to the races,’ Anji replied easily.
‘It’s not as straightforward as you’d think. You have to know the rules and regulations. We can’t overplay our hand, and it would look very suspicious if we committed all our capital on risky ventures but never put a foot wrong. It’s quite hard work convincing my employees they’re brilliant analysts.’
‘This isn’t right,’ Fitz said. ‘Would the Doctor approve?’
‘He knew I was doing