The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [221]
“No reason.”
The officer stared at me.
“You seem to know her quite well, Next. Why does she do these things?”
“Probably,” I replied, “because they don’t have motorways where she comes from—or 27-liter Higham Specials.”
“And where would that be, Next?”
“I have no idea.”
“I could arrest you for helping the escape of an individual in custody.”
“She wasn’t arrested, Rawlings, you said so yourself.”
“Perhaps not, but you are. In the car.”
20.
Yorrick Kaine
In 1983 the youthful Yorrick Kaine was elected leader of the Whigs, at that time a small and largely inconsequential party whose desire to put the aristocracy back in power and limit voting rights to homeowners had placed it on the outer edges of the political arena. A pro-Crimean stance coupled with a wish for British unification helped build nationalist support, and by 1985 the Whigs had three MPs in Parliament. They built their manifesto on populist tactics such as reducing the cheese duty and offering dukedoms as prizes on the National Lottery. A shrewd politician and clever tactician, Kaine was ambitious for power—in whatever way he could get it.
A.J.P. MILLINER,
The New Whigs: From Humble Beginnings to Fourth Reich
IT TOOK TWO HOURS for me to convince the police I wasn’t going to tell them anything about Miss Havisham other than her address. Undeterred, they thumbed through a yellowed statute book and eventually charged me with a little-known 1621 law about permissioning a horse and carte to be driven by personn of low moral turpithtude, but with the “horse and carte” bit crossed out and “car” written in instead—so you can see how desperate they were. I would have to go before the magistrate the following week. I started to sneak out of the building to go home, but—
“So there you are!”
I turned and hoped my groan wasn’t audible.
“Hello, Cordelia.”
“Thursday, are you okay? You look a bit bruised!”
“I got caught in a Fiction Frenzy.”
“No more nonsense, now—I need you to meet the couple who won my competition.”
“Do I have to?”
Flakk looked at me sternly.
“It’s very advisable.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Where are they?”
“I’m—um—not sure,” said Cordelia, biting her lip and looking at her watch. “They said they’d be here half an hour ago. Can you wait a few minutes?”
So we stood around for a bit, Cordelia looking at her watch and staring at the front door. After ten minutes of waiting and without her guests turning up, I made my excuses and nipped up to the Litera Tec’s office.
“Thursday!” said Bowden as I entered. “I told Victor you had the flu. How did you get on in Osaka?”
“Pretty well, I think. I’ve been inside books without a Prose Portal. I can do it on my own—more or less.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No,” I told him, “Landen’s almost as good as back. I’ve seen The Trial from the inside and have just been at the Swindon Booktastic closing-down sale with Miss Havisham.”
“What’s she like?” asked Bowden with interest.
“Odd—and don’t ever let her drive. It seems there is something very like SpecOps-27 inside books—I’ve yet to figure it all out. How have things been out here?”
He showed me a copy of The Owl. The headline read: New Play by Will Found in Swindon. The Mole had the headline Cardenio Sensation! and The Toad, predictably enough, led with Swindon Croquet Supremo Aubrey Jambe Found in Bath with Chimp.
“So Professor Spoon authenticated it?”
“He did indeed,” replied Bowden. “One of us should take the report up to Volescamper this afternoon. This is for you.”
He handed me the bag of pinkish goo attached to a report from the SpecOps forensic labs. I thanked him and read the analysis of the slime Dad had given me with interest and confusion in equal measures.
“Sugar, fatty animal protein, calcium, sodium, maltodextrin, carboxy-methyl-cellulose, phenylalanine, complex hydrocarbon compounds and traces of chlorophyll.”
I flicked to the back of the report but was none the wiser. Forensics had faithfully responded to my request for analysis