The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [365]
“Stephen and Maggie?” I asked, indicating the couple as we walked along the path by the river.
“Yes,” she replied. “As you know, Lucy and Stephen are a hairsbreadth from engagement. Stephen and Maggie’s indiscretion in this boat causes Lucy Deane no end of distress. I told you to get the ones with pink icing.”
“They’d run out.”
“Ah.”
We kept a wary eye on the couple in the boat as I tried to remember what actually happened in Mill on the Floss.
“They agree to elope, don’t they?”
“Agree to—but don’t. Stephen is being an idiot and Maggie should know better. Lucy is meant to be shopping in Lindum with her father and Aunt Tulliver, but she gave them the slip an hour ago.”
We walked on for a few more minutes. The story seemed to be following the correct path with no intervention of Lucy’s we could see. Although we couldn’t make out the words, the sound of Maggie’s and Stephen’s voices carried across the water.
Miss Havisham took a bite of her doughnut.
“I noticed the missing key, too,” she said after a pause. “It was pushed under a workbench. It was murder. Murder . . . by Minotaur.”
She shivered.
“Why didn’t you tell Bradshaw?” I asked. “Surely the murder of a Jurisfiction operative warrants an investigation?”
She stared at me hard and then looked at the couple in the boat again.
“You don’t understand, do you? The Sword of the Zenobians is code-word-protected.”
“Only Jurisfiction agents can get in and out,” I murmured.
“Whoever killed Perkins and Mathias was Jurisfiction, and that’s what frightens me. A rogue agent.”
We walked in silence, digesting this information.
“But why would anyone want to kill Perkins and a talking horse?”
“I think Mathias just got in the way.”
“And Perkins?”
“Not just Perkins. Whoever killed him tried to get someone else that day.”
I thought for a moment and a sudden chill came over me.
“My Eject-O-Hat. It failed.”
Miss Havisham produced the homburg from a carrier bag, slightly squashed from where several Mrs. Danvers had trodden on it. The frayed cord looked as though it might have been cut.
“Take this to Professor Plum at Juris Tech and have him look at it. I’d like to be sure.”
“But . . . but why am I a threat?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Miss Havisham. “You are the most junior member of Jurisfiction and arguably the least threatening—you can’t even bookjump without moving your lips, for goodness’ sake!”
I didn’t need reminding, but I saw her point.
“So what happens now?” I asked at length.
“We have to assume whoever killed Snell might try again. You are to be on your guard. Wait—there she is!”
We had walked over a small rise and were slightly ahead of the boat. A young woman was lying on the ground in a most unladylike fashion, pointing a sniper’s rifle towards the small skiff that had just come into view. I crept cautiously forward; she was so intent on her task that she didn’t notice me until I was close enough to grab her. She was a slight thing, and her strugglings, whilst energetic, were soon overcome. I secured her in an armlock as Havisham unloaded the rifle. Maggie and Stephen, unaware of the danger, drifted softly past on their way to Mudport.
“Where did you get this?” asked Havisham, holding up the rifle.
“I don’t have to say anything,” replied the angelic-looking girl in a soft voice. “I was only going to knock a hole in the boat, honestly I was!”
“Sure you were. You can let go, Thursday.”
I relaxed my grip and the girl stepped back, pulling at her clothes to straighten them after our brief tussle. I checked her for any other weapons but found nothing.
“Why should Maggie force a wedge between our happiness?” she demanded angrily. “Everything would be so wonderful between my darling Stephen and I—why am I the victim? I, who only wanted to do good and help everyone—especially Maggie!”
“It’s called drama,” replied Havisham wearily. “Are you going to tell