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'I don't touch the stuff,' Maria snapped, tartly.

Sam shook her head. 'For Mrs Kreiner, I mean.'

'Young lady -' began Roley.

'You and Watson caused all this,' said Bulwell to Roley, miserably. 'They were all saying the same thing.'

'They?'

'The others... well, the old woman and Waller at least.'

Roley said nothing, letting the words sink in. 'If that's true, then my research

-'

'You and your bloody research -' Sam began, but the flustered arrival of Cynthia stopped the quarrel escalating.

'The Doctor's laboratory is wrecked; she said, out of breath.

'What?' Sam went over to her and grabbed her. 'What about the Doctor? Is he OK?'

Before Cynthia could reply, Sam heard his voice."The Doctor is fine, thank you very much for asking.' He didn't took very fine, but Sam decided it was the best sight in the world, seeing him limp along the corridor towards them. She ran over to join him.

'You been playing chicken with the traffic again?' she said.

'Taylor attacked me.' He held his hand to his head. 'He was muttering something Cabalistic about doing what thou wilt being the whole of the law.'

'Taylor, too, then,' breathed Roley.

When the Doctor took his hand away, he left his forehead sticky with blood.

Sam looked at the gash in his palm. 'Jesus, are you OK? Did Taylor do that to your hand?'

'If only he had,' sighed the Doctor, stooping to examine Mrs Kreiner and gently lifting her away from Nurse Bulwell and placing her back in bed. 'Has anyone seen him?' he called.

'I saw him,' said Cynthia. 'He was going the same way as Russell. In a hurry.'

"The west wing?' asked Sam. 'What's there?'

"The Restraint Room,' stated Bulwell.

'And Mr Austen,' said the Doctor, re-emerging from Mrs Kreiner's room with a pillowcase wrapped round his injured hand. 'Come on, quick!'

He sprinted off down the stairs, his limp forgotten, the others close behind.

***

'Oh no.'

The Doctor stood framed in the doorway, Sam by his side. She gasped, and turned back to Cynthia, stopping the girl from seeing. 'Go and check on Watson,' she instructed. Cynthia nodded and dashed away.

Sam felt Roley push up beside her. 'Oh, Crikey Moses,' he said, hollowly.

Lucy was sitting astride Austen's body in her nightdress, the cotton stained from white to crimson with blood. She held a knife in her hands, which had clearly been put to use on Austen's back. The skin was split along the length of the backbone.

Russell Waller sat on the couch, hand at the curl on his forehead as usual.

'No sign of Old Nobodaddy in there,' said Lucy, softly, not acknowledging her audience.

'No,' said Russell.

The Doctor noticed Taylor staring at him, blankly, and realised the man's hands were slick with blood, up to the wrists. He stepped into the Restraint Room and gently slipped an arm round Lucy, who seemed dazed, unseeing. He pulled the knife from her weak grip and lifted her away from the body, sitting her down next to Russell. She slumped against him, her black hair falling over his cheek, but Russell remained stock still.

Sam watched as Roley and Bulwell pushed past her to cram into the blood-spattered white room. Taking a position behind the Doctor, they didn't obstruct her view as the Doctor gingerly fished inside the wound and, with the tip of the knife, dragged out a black, glistening object about the size of a finger.

'My God,' breathed Roley.

'It's another one,' whispered Bulwell.

'No,' said the Doctor, softly. 'It's the same one we took out earlier.'

Sam stared at him. 'What?'

The Doctor looked first at Taylor, then at Lucy and Waller, then at Sam. 'It seems they were trying to put it back inside him,' he said.

Sam felt her world tilt a little. She looked automatically at Lucy, looking like Lady Macbeth on the leather couch. Then she saw Russell, whose head had fallen forward slightly, the lock of hair hanging away from his high forehead.

For a second she glimpsed what