The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [79]
Schitt clapped his hands slowly.
“Brave speech but spare me the moralizing, Next. If you want your fridge-freezer and your car and a nice house and asphalt on the roads and a health service, then thank the weapons business. Thank the war economy that drives us to this and thank Goliath. The Crimea is good, Thursday—good for England and especially good for the economy. You deride the weapons business but without it we’d be a tenth-rate country struggling to maintain a standard of living anywhere near that of our European neighbors. Would you prefer that?”
“At least our conscience would be clear.”
“Naive, Next, very naive.”
Schitt returned to his golf and Braxton took up the explanation:
“Officer Next, we are extending all possible support to the Goliath Corporation in these matters. We want you to help us capture Hades. You know him from your college days and he addressed this to you. We’ll agree to his demands and arrange a drop. Then we tail him and arrest him. Simple. Goliath gets the Prose Portal, we get the manuscript, your uncle and aunt are freed, and SpecOps-5 gets Hades. Everyone gets something so everyone is happy. So for now, we sit tight and wait for news of the drop.”
“I know the rules on giving in to extortionists as well as you do, sir. Hades is not one to try and fool.”
“It won’t come to that,” replied Hicks. “We’ll give him the money and nab him long before he gets away. I have complete confidence in Schitt’s operatives.”
“With every respect, sir, Acheron is smarter and tougher than you can possibly imagine. We should do this on our own. We don’t need Schitt’s hired guns blasting off in all directions.”
“Permission denied, Next. You’ll do as I tell you, or you’ll do nothing. I think that’s all.”
I should have been more angry but I wasn’t. There had been no surprises—Goliath never compromised. And when there are no surprises, it’s harder to get riled. We would have to work with what we were given.
When we got back to the office I called Landen again. This time a woman answered; I asked to speak to him.
“He’s asleep,” she said shortly.
“Can you wake him?” I asked. “It’s kind of important.”
“No, I can’t. Who are you?”
“It’s Thursday Next.”
The woman gave a small snigger that I didn’t like.
“He told me all about you, Thursday.”
She said it disdainfully; I took an instant dislike to her.
“Who is this?”
“This is Daisy Mutlar, darling, Landy’s fiancée.”
I leaned back in my chair slowly and closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. No wonder Landen asked me as a matter of some urgency if I was going to forgive him.
“Changed your mind, have you, sweetheart?” asked Daisy in a mocking tone. “Landen’s a good man. He waited nearly ten years for you but I’m afraid now he’s in love with me. Perhaps if you’re lucky we’ll send you some cake, and if you want to send a present, the wedding list is down at Camp Hopson.”
I forced down a lump in my throat.
“When’s the happy day?”
“For you or for me?” Daisy laughed. “For you, who knows? As for me, darling Landy and I are going to be Mr. and Mrs. Parke-Laine two weeks on Saturday.”
“Let me speak to him,” I demanded, my voice rising.
“I might tell him you called when he wakes up.”
“Do you want me to come around and bang on the door?” I asked, my voice rising further. Bowden looked at me from the other side of the desk with an arched eyebrow.
“Listen here, you stupid bitch,” said Daisy in a hushed tone in case Landen heard, “you could have married Landen and you blew it. It’s all over. Go and find some geeky Litera Tec or something—from what I’ve seen all you SpecOps clowns are a bunch of weirdos.”
“Now just you listen to—”
“No,” snapped Daisy. “You listen. If you try anything at all to interfere with my happiness I’ll wring your stupid little neck!”
The phone went dead. I quietly returned the receiver to its cradle and