Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [8]
‘Will that be all, sir?’ asked the orderly.
‘Yes, thank you.’
The man hobbled out. The domestic orderlies were all wounded soldiers. Gorton felt sorry for the man, who would never walk properly again. For his prisoners, though, he felt no sorrow or pity. They were all deserters or men who had refused an order to go over the top to charge at the enemy’s machine-guns. He was proud that it was his job to make life as uncomfortable as possible for these cowards. The telephone broke into his thoughts.
‘Gorton here,’ he said.
‘Sir,’ said a sergeant’s voice he knew well, ‘there’s a gentleman here from the War Office. He says he has to see you, sir.’
‘He’s made no appointment with me,’ said Gorton. ‘Are you sure he’s from the War Office?’
The sergeant lowered his voice. ‘He seems a very educated gentleman, sir. I didn’t ask for his papers, sir.’
‘You’d better send him in.’ Gorton replaced the telephone thoughtfully. It was unnerving to have an unexpected inspection, if an inspection was the purpose of the visit. Everything, so far as he knew, was in perfect order in the prison. There had been that little problem with the French deserter who insisted he had been fighting for Napoleon Bonaparte. The man was obviously mad and had been taken away to a hospital. Apart from that everything was running smoothly. Even so, it was irritating to have civilian officials suddenly arriving like this.
The orderly tapped and opened the door. ‘Your visitors from the War Office, sir.’
The Doctor strode in, followed by Zoe. ‘I am an inspector from the War Office,’ the Doctor announced.
‘This young lady is my secretary. I take it you were expecting me.’
Colonel Gorton was surprised by his visitors’
appearance: the man wore an extravagant, long black jacket and the girl was wearing trousers. But what surprised him most was that they were both spattered and caked with mud.
‘As a matter of fact I wasn’t,’ he replied. ‘May I see your identification papers?’
‘How dare you,’ said the Doctor. ‘You send no car to meet us, we have had to walk miles in the rain, and now you doubt my authority! ‘
The colonel wondered if there had been a message that he had not received. If the visitor was an inspector he did not wish to cause offence. He liked being in command of a prison and was secretly terrified of ever being sent to the front line.
‘Would you care for some tea?’ he asked.
‘We have no time for tea,’ the Doctor blustered. ‘We want to inspect your security.’
‘My security is second to none, sir. Take a look at this map.’ Gorton led the Doctor to a wall map of the entire prison. ‘We have barbed wire, concealed trip wires, everything to make escape completely impossible.’
The Doctor studied the map. ‘Hm, not bad. Let me see your list of new arrivals.’
‘That’s always kept up to date.’ Gorton went to a desk drawer. ‘Here are the latest,’ he said, offering the Doctor a list.
The Doctor ran his eye’ down the names. ‘What’s this one,’ he said, ‘ “Scottish Highlander awaiting re-turn to regiment”?’
‘Exactly what it says, sir.’
‘I wish to question this man.’
Gorton was amazed. ‘Speak to a prisoner?’
‘It is my duty to learn both sides of how this prison is run. Kindly have the man brought here immediately,’ said the Doctor, adding, ‘in chains if you think it necessary.’
Gorton picked up his desk telephone. ‘With an escape-proof prison as I have here, sir, such barbarities as chaining prisoners are entirely unnecessary.’ He spoke into the telephone. ‘Sergeant, bring the Highland deserter to my office immediately.’
‘Sir,’ said the sergeant’s voice, very subdued, ‘he’s just escaped.’
Gorton’s knuckles went white as chalk as he clenched his fist. ‘What?’ He was aware of the War Office inspector looking at him. ‘What did you say?’
‘There was the