Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [61]
Hill stood, silhouetted in the light of the corridor. „About as well as can be expected for a man who‟ll have to bury his only child.‟
„Where is he now?‟
„At home. Half the middle management in the region is with him. It‟s sickening.‟
The Doctor nodded, encouraging Hill to go on.
„He‟s asked for you,‟ said the policeman. „He wants to talk.‟
The Doctor got to his feet. „Responsibility for one‟s actions,‟
he said, marching towards the door, „comes from the absolute belief in the validity of what one does. Do you understand?‟
Hill stared back at him blankly. „I don‟t think I understand anything any more.‟
Hill drove the Doctor in silence through the leafy suburbs of Liverpool as the dawn skies grew brighter around them.
Denman‟s house was a mock-Tudor-fronted building set within two acres of rich, rolling lawns. The Doctor strode up the gravel drive towards the front door and tipped his hat to a young-looking WPC. She instinctively moved to bar his entry, but then saw Hill behind, and the look of tired wisdom in the Doctor‟s eyes, and stepped aside.
The Doctor walked towards the living room, and found it full of men with glasses in their hands, standing around looking bewildered and anxious. The room was thick with their cigarette smoke and the sound of coughing.
„Right, all of you, out of here,‟ the Doctor announced.
Amazingly, most of the men shuffled towards the door, as though they had been waiting for someone to take charge.
One man stayed with Denman. The Chief Constable was sitting on a beige couch, a look of crushed innocence on his face. The man with him stood and moved towards the Doctor, holding out a hand.
„Deputy Chief Constable Savage,‟ he said briskly. „And you are...?‟
„A friend,‟ said the Doctor, moving past the man without acknowledging his outstretched hand. Hill, who had followed the Doctor into the room, gave Savage a respectful sideways glance but otherwise said nothing.
Denman looked up as the Doctor approached. The policeman had that same faraway look that the Doctor had seen in the eyes of men suffering from shell shock in the First World War, and on the faces of the victims of the sonic massacres in fifty-first-century Brisbane. Some things didn‟t change through time.
„You came,‟ he said, his voice thin and wasted.
„Of course,‟ said the Doctor, sitting beside Denman. „You should try to get some rest.‟
„I‟m all right,‟ said Denman.
„No you‟re not.‟ The Doctor tapped the glass of whisky in Denman‟s hand. „You should either drink that, or pour it in the sink. Don‟t sit there playing with it.‟
„You‟re right,‟ said Denman, downing the drink in one.
Colour began to flood back into his cheeks. „She was...‟ he began, but got no further.
„I know,‟ said the Doctor, as Denman crumpled into his arms. The Doctor held him tightly, as Denman buried his head against the little man‟s shoulder. Savage and Hill fidgeted nervously. „Put the kettle on,‟ said the Doctor, and both men moved simultaneously to the door, their expressions mirroring each other‟s embarrassment.
Denman raised his head, his eyes red and swollen, his face wet with tears. „Why?‟ he asked, as if a simple answer to that question would make everything all right again.
„The message she left was quite clear,‟ replied the Doctor in a soft voice, remembering the terse words written in lipstick on the cell wall. „That “they” were getting at you through her.‟
„Shanks?‟
„Yes. And she wanted to save you in the only way she could,‟ said the Doctor. He paused. „You had a close relationship?‟
„Yes. It was perfect.‟
„No relationship is ever perfect,‟ stated the Doctor brutally.
He could almost see the memories passing across Denman‟s tear-stained face. „If there were... problems, it was because of Hexen Bridge.‟
„No,‟ said the Doctor firmly. „You can‟t blame everything on your heritage. None of us can. We each have to accept a measure of responsibility.‟
Denman shook his head against the gentle pressure of the Doctor‟s words. „But I tried so hard to protect her.‟
„Perhaps