Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [63]
Denman ignored him. „The night watchman should be here around seven a.m.,‟ he said, checking his watch. „We‟ve got fifteen minutes at most.‟
Hill moved to the window, looking down the eighteen storeys to the car park below. „Shanks is hardly going to leave anything incriminating lying around.‟
„That remains to be seen,‟ said the Doctor, opening the filing cabinet closest to the door with a bent paperclip and a triumphant flourish. „Ah!‟ he exclaimed with such excitement that Denman rushed across the office.
„Have you found something?‟ asked Denman.
„Yes,‟ said the Doctor, proudly. „Files. Lots of them.‟
Denman breathed deeply. „Containing...?‟
The Doctor opened the first green suspension file and took out a bundle of paper. He waved the sheets with delight at the two policemen. „I had a feeling he wouldn‟t bother to hide it. There‟s nothing incriminating in this, unless you know what you‟re looking for.‟
„Would you care to elaborate?‟
Just as the Doctor seemed ready to, Hill turned back from the window. „Time to get out,‟ he said quickly. „Someone‟s coming.‟
„Quick, out the fire exit,‟ snapped Denman. „We‟d better have got something important,‟ he told the Doctor. „This is probably our only chance.‟
„We‟ve got everything we need,‟ replied the Doctor, stuffing the paperwork into his jacket.
Megan Tyley was the lightest of sleepers. It was both a blessing and a curse. When her children were young, she had never lost a minute‟s sleep through worry, as she knew she would hear the slightest cry of distress.
On the other hand, any noise from the street, whether it was a motorcycle accelerating, or cats fighting, would jolt Megan into sharp wakefulness. And then she would lie there, listening to her husband snore. In, out, in, out, in - long pause. She sometimes wondered if he‟d ever stop breathing, there and then, while she was listening to him.
But the next breath always came, a rasping snort that went on for ever.
And when the snoring ceased to be amusing, she would turn things over in her mind, desperate for sleep. She would think of how she‟d redecorate the living room, if money were no object; or what laws she‟d pass, if she were in charge; or how she‟d arrange the shelves at Safeway, if it were down to her.
And then she‟d think of her children, and cry herself to sleep.
Now, as Megan Tyley sat bolt upright in her bed, the blood pounding with sudden wakefulness, her first thought was Billy.
No, Billy was... gone.
Megan Tyley got to her feet and shuffled over to the window. She stared across at the church which she cleaned once a week, the source of not a little pride.
Two people were clambering over the large northern wall, and she could just make out the smashed window behind them. Little vandals! They can‟t get away with that, she thought.
Enraged, she pulled on her dressing gown, and moments later she found herself in the street, marching towards the church. She couldn‟t remember coming down the stairs, or pushing open the front door. All she felt was an anger at the injustice, that these hooligans might escape punishment.
„Now, listen here!‟ she shouted as the two young people dropped down on to the ground. It was a girl and a boy. She thought she recognised the lad, but it was difficult to be sure in the semidarkness. „Just what do you think you‟re doing?‟
Her voice was loud enough, she supposed, to wake even her corpse-like husband.
The two vandals fled in opposite directions. „Run!‟ shouted the unfamiliar girl as she passed.
Megan Tyley stood, rooted to the spot, her mouth hanging open. The girl had been telling her to run.
Something brushed against Megan‟s back, and she turned.
A hulking, unreal figure was patrolling the shadows around the church wall. Its dirty, striped clothes were covered with leaves and stalks of straw.
The misshapen, lumpy head twisted uncertainly in her direction. It could have been a pumpkin covered in cloth, with a harsh red slit for a mouth, were it not for