Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [107]
‘Do you expect me to believe that?’ said Amy. She turned away from the window, intending to sit in one of the armchairs. But then she changed her mind because Retour might do the same and then they’d be jammed together in close proximity, knees touching.
Instead Amy sat behind her desk, using it as a barrier between herself and the man.
But Retour showed no inclination to move away from the window. ‘I don’t know why you shouldn’t believe it,’ he said.
‘It’s true. We primed Mr Leemark, all right. But he was supposed to be aimed at the school’s resident Buddhist monk, not the school principal.’
Despite her best efforts, Amy felt a certain professional interest awakening in herself. ‘And, by the way, how did you arrange that?’
Retour smiled. ‘As you might imagine, Mr Leemark subscribes to some fairly interesting magazines of the super-patriot, vigilante, guns-are-good-for-us variety. We just made sure that he received some copies of an additional wacko publication, one we printed ourselves. It notified all right-thinking Christians of the presence of a shaven-headed heathen in their school,
contaminating innocent children with blasphemous ideas.’
‘All right-thinking Christians?’
‘Well, just Leemark, actually. We only distributed one copy of the magazine. We just wanted to stir him up and get him to come in here.’
‘Did you know he’d come carrying a gun?’
Amy’s voice was sharp but Retour remained calm and unmoved. ‘We knew it might be a possibility,’ he said.
‘What would you have done if he’d come in here and started shooting kids?’
‘It wasn’t kids he was after. And anyway, if it looked for an instant like he might threaten Ricky’s life we would have intervened immediately. But I knew that it wouldn’t go like that.’ Retour smiled modestly. ‘Although I couldn’t have predicted how well it would go. Did you see the way Ricky handled the crowd? Did you see the way they responded to his voice?’
He looked at Amy and his angular face was suddenly transformed, glowing with what looked like pride. He stared at her, grinning, as if he expected her to smile back.
She looked at him coldy. ‘Too bad Mr Pangbourne ended up the way he did.’
‘As I said, that wasn’t in the plan. It was just a side-effect.’
‘But you don’t seem too upset about it.’
‘Well, I have to admit that it was a bonus.’
‘That’s nice. An elderly man is beaten half to death with a glass ash-tray and it’s a bonus.’
Retour shrugged. ‘Pangbourne was a potential danger to this whole project. He was inquisitive and smart, and a trouble maker.’
‘And he didn’t like us working in his school,’ sighed Amy.
The afternoon light coming in through the window had taken on a gloomy pre-storm luminosity that made everything look strange. She was surrounded by the familiar objects of this small office, all of them carefully selected as set-dressing for her role as a compassionate and concerned high-school guidance counsellor.
She had personally chosen the objects. A graceful vase for fresh cut flowers. A couple of chunky coffee mugs in cheerful colours. A framed poster of a breathtaking Caribbean beachscape; white sand under a purple night sky.
It had been fun choosing these things. Now, they looked alien and faintly menacing. Amy felt depressed and more than a little guilty. She had liked Pangbourne.
‘Cheer up,’ said Retour. ‘Things are going better than we could ever have planned. We’re going to be finished here very quickly.’
‘Stop it with all this “we” business,’ said Amy. ‘This is your operation. You’re in charge. I’m just one of the hired hands. And a disillusioned one.’
‘That will change when you see the results we’re achieving. Ricky is developing at a faster rate than I’d ever imagined possible.’
‘Poor kid,’ said Amy.
‘Within a couple of days he’s reached a point that I thought would take weeks of careful nurturing.’ Retour came away from the window and sat at the armchair nearest Amy’s desk. To face her he had to sit at an awkward angle and stare slightly upwards, with the bulk of the desk in between them. According to theory,