The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [424]
“I have no ambition to be the Bellman and didn’t kill Miss Havisham,” I muttered, trying to think of a plan of action.
Tweed leaned closer. “You’ve been using Jurisfiction as a springboard to feed your own burning ambition. It’s a dangerous thing to possess. Ambition will sustain for a while—and then it kills indiscriminately.”
The Bellman, who up until this moment had been quiet, suddenly said, “I’ll need more proof than your say-so, Mr. Tweed.”
“Indeed,” replied Tweed triumphantly, “as you know, the three witches have to log all their prophecies. They don’t like to do it, but they have to—no paperwork, no license to read chicken entrails. Simple as that.”
He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “The day after Miss Next arrived, they filed this report.” He handed the paper to the Bellman. “Read the third on the list.”
“Prophecy three,” read the Bellman slowly, “Thou shalt be Bellman thereafter.”
Tweed retrieved the sheet of paper and slid it across the table to me. “Do you deny this?”
“No,” I said glumly.
“We call it Macbeth’s syndrome,” said the Bellman sadly, “an insane desire to fulfill your own prophecies. It’s nearly always fatal. Sadly, not only for the sufferer.”
“I’m not a Macbeth sufferer, Mr. Bellman, and even if I am, shouldn’t even the smallest error in Ultra Word™ be looked at?”
“There aren’t any errors,” put in Tweed, “Ultra Word™ is the finest piece of technology we have ever devised—foolproof, stable and totally without error. Tell me the problem—I’m sure there is a satisfactory explanation.”
“Well—” I stopped myself. I knew the Bellman was still an honest man. Should I tell him about the thrice-read problem and risk Tweed covering his tracks even more? On reflection, probably not. The more I dug, the more would be found against me. I needed breathing space—I needed to escape.
“What’s to become of me?”
“Permanent expulsion from the BookWorld,” replied Tweed. “We don’t have enough evidence to convict but we do have enough to have you banned from fiction forever. There is no appeals procedure. I only have to ratify it with the Bellman.”
“Well,” said the Bellman, tingling his bell sadly, “I must concur with Tweed’s recommendation. Search her for any BookWorld accessories before we send her back.”
“You’re making a mistake, Mr. Bellman,” I said angrily, “a very—”
“Oooh!” said Heep, who had been rummaging in my pockets and taking the opportunity to try to touch my breasts again. “Look what I’ve found!”
It was the Suddenly, a Shot Rang Out! plot device Snell had given me at the Slaughtered Lamb.
“A plot device, Miss Next?” said Tweed, taking the small glass globe from Heep. “Do you have any paperwork for this?”
“No. It’s evidence. I just forgot to sign it in.”
“Illegal carriage of all Narrative Turning Devices is strictly illegal. Are you a dealer? Who’s your source? Peddle this sort of garbage in teenage fiction?”
“Blow it out of your arse, Tweed.”
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
He went crimson and might have hit me, but all I wanted was for him to move close enough for me to kick him—or his hand, at least.
“You piece of crap,” he sneered. “I’ve known you were no good from the moment I saw you. Think you’re something special, Miss SpecOps Outlander supremo?”
“At least I don’t work for the Skyrail, Tweed. Inside fiction you’re a big cheese, but out in the real world you’re less than a nobody!”
It had the desired effect. He took a step closer and I kicked out, connected with his hand and the small glass globe went sailing into the air, high above our heads. Heep, coward that he now was, dived for cover, but Tweed and the Red Queen, wary of a Narrative Turning Device going off in a confined area, tried to catch it. They might have been successful if just one of them had attempted it. As it was, they collided with a grunt and the small glass globe fell to the floor and shattered as they looked on helplessly.
Suddenly, a shot rang out. I didn’t see where it came from but felt its full effect; the bullet hit the chain that was holding me to the anvils, shattering it neatly. I didn