Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [138]
‘I hope you enjoyed taking my wife and child away from me,’ said Vincent. ‘The wife you can keep. But my boy is coming back to me. He’s going to work for his old man. Join the family business so to speak. And the family business is going to consist pretty much of running the United States.’
‘Ricky’s going to spit in your eye,’ said Creed.
‘Nope. Ricky is going to be a new kind of presidential candidate. By the time he’s old enough to run for office this whole country is going to be begging to elect him. I’m going to have the Republicans and the Democrats bidding for his services. And I’m going to strike the deals. And together Ricky and I will run America.’
‘Dream on.’
‘Ricky has the power, Creed. You’re just too blind to see that. You’ve never appreciated what that kid is capable of achieving. You’ve stifled him. He’s lived in your shadow. He’s like a plant that’s never had a chance to flourish in the sunlight. Keep your gun on him, Amy. And watch out for the little guy. The Doctor can be tricky.’
After disarming Creed, Vincent secured him using a pair of handcuffs. He locked one steel cuff on Creed’s left wrist and the other around the leg of the grand piano. The piano weighed as much as a small car; there was no way Creed could budge it to free himself. Maybe he could break it. Creed tensed his muscles and tried pulling against the cuff attached to the piano leg. Wood could break. But he knew it was hopeless. The old seasoned wood of the piano was as hard as iron.
Now Vincent was looking at him. He sat down on the piano-stool and scooted it back out of Creed’s reach. He was very close to Justine. He held the gun in one hand; with the other he reached out and caressed her cheek.
‘You know, when my wife left me,’ he said, stroking Justine’s face, ‘when she took my unborn child away from me, I didn’t even know if it was a girl or a boy. We had the scans but we asked the hospital not to tell us.’
Vincent took his hand away from Justine’s face and spun on the piano-stool to face the Doctor. He shrugged. ‘Of course, when she went off with another man, it didn’t matter.
But imagine my delight when I discovered that I had a son.
And he took after me.’
‘Took after you?’
It was the Doctor who had spoken. His voice was full of sudden interest. It was as if he’d been sitting here bored all this time and Vincent had finally said something worthy of his full attention.
Creed wondered what the hell the Doctor was doing.
There was something subtly insulting in his manner as he spoke to Vincent.
‘What do you mean, took after you? It’s not even grammatical.’
‘My meaning was clear enough. Ricky has my gifts.’
The Doctor leant forward, peering intensely at Vincent.
‘But Creed’s other kids have gifts too. Who is responsible for those? Not you, certainly.’
Creed saw that Vincent was beginning to sweat. He clearly didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking.
Creed wished the Doctor would shut up. Vincent still had his gun aimed at Justine’s head and he was clearly upset. More than that. He looked like a man who might go over the edge at any moment.
Creed wished the Doctor would shut up but the Doctor persisted.
‘Doesn’t that suggest anything to you?’ he said.
Vincent wouldn’t meet the Doctor’s eyes. ‘Who cares?’
he said.
‘You should. Ricky’s powers have nothing to do with you.’
‘Of course they do. I’m his father. He inherited something special from me.’
‘Perhaps, Vincent. Or perhaps it was warlock.’
‘Warlock?’
‘Yes. Justine took the drug when she was pregnant. It could have passed across the placenta and affected Ricky in the womb. Indeed, it could have affected both Creed and Justine in such a way that their genetic material was changed. Hence all their gifted children. Nothing to do with you. Indeed, what about parenting? Do you remember what happened to Creed in that restaurant in London?’
‘No.’ Vincent turned away from the Doctor, as if he was hoping to stop the conversation. He smiled apologetically at Amy. ‘Sorry to bore you with all this talk about old times.’
‘I think you do remember, Vincent,