Doctor Who_ Timeless Part 17

'Who's been ordering job lots of sinkable coffins to government specifications,' Guy added.

'Fine,' said Trix, betraying a spark of anger now. 'Do everything the hard way, why don't you?'

'Speaking of which,' said the Doctor mildly, 'I take it you did get what I asked for?'

Trix pulled out a small bundle from the pocket of her leather jacket. What looked like a Lottery ticket was wrapped round its middle; she removed it and tossed the bundle over to him. 'Six weeks undercover... for that.'

'A gift from elegant Boyard Towers, Streatham,' Fitz added.

'Your time wasn't wasted,' he a.s.sured them as he carefully unwrapped a syringe. He seemed transfixed by the dark dribble inside, like he was gazing into the depths of some glittering gemstone. 'This stuff is precious. With this we can find the vital proof we need. Learn exactly what it is Basalt's caught up in.'

'Se la forma scompare, la sua radice e eternal,' said Trix suddenly. Everyone but the Doctor looked at her warily, like she'd just insulted them all, so she translated: 'If the form vanishes '

' its root is eternal,' finished the Doctor, still focused on the stuff in the syringe. 'Did Nencini say that?'

'Yeah.'

'You told me you didn't understand what he said.' Fitz looked at her suspiciously.

'I told you I didn't understand what he meant meant. And I still don't.' She rose sulkily. 'I'm going for a breath of fresh air.' With that, she got up and left the flat, closing the door firmly behind her.

'What's her problem?' Guy wondered.

'I've made extensive notes, if you're interested,' Fitz offered. 'My expedition to Siberia was a breeze next to six weeks being married to her.'

'Married?' Anji raised an eyebrow. 'Maybe we should've got round to Trix's story faster.'

'You two are married?' Stacy looked confused.

'No, no,' Fitz said hurriedly. 'Well, we were, sort of, but now I'm a free agent.'

'Are you?' The Doctor slammed his fist down on Anji's kitchen worktop. Everyone jumped. 'I wonder if any of us are.'

Twenty.

Psychokiller Daniel Basalt woke and couldn't remember quite where he was.

Someone was in bed beside him.

He relaxed as he realised it was only that dumb b.i.t.c.h Jacqui, snoring softly. A c.h.i.n.k of sunlight through the curtains fell across her beak of a nose and cast an impressive shark-fin shadow over his chest.

He wondered, looking at her peaceful, stupid face, if she went to sleep dreaming he'd kill her before morning. He'd slept beside her enough times to recognise the way she held herself tense at first, barely daring to breathe, like a naughty child who believes her parents won't see her hiding in the bed if she keeps very still and quiet. But really the child wants wants to be found. Wants acceptance and to be held. That childlike desire never disappeared: except in Jacqui's case perhaps she wished to be held tight around the neck, or have lips pressed up hard against her mouth. to be found. Wants acceptance and to be held. That childlike desire never disappeared: except in Jacqui's case perhaps she wished to be held tight around the neck, or have lips pressed up hard against her mouth.

Basalt recalled early years spent sneaking into the beds of strangers once his parents were dead, looking for warmth, to be held. Getting kicked and beaten, hauled off to correction facilities and care workers. Or shrinks, as he got older, as it went on. They would always seek excuses for his violence and att.i.tude in his past. That was OK; he could play that game, gain sympathy that way.

How many times had he trotted out the story of the lady at the orphanage who'd told him, 'We can't control loss in this life, Danny. People lose things all the time, and sometimes it seems there's no reason... but it's just fate.'

Yeah, people genuinely thought that was a key defining moment in the life of Daniel Basalt: his parents dead in a car crash, taken away by a cruel accident of fate, little Danny can't accept we have no control over who takes away the things that are precious in life. So he he starts taking well, someone's got to, right? Someone's gotta take responsibility if G.o.d won't step in with a big, stupid sandaled foot. Yeah, there's little Danny out on the street taking. Money. Jewellery. Bites out of people. starts taking well, someone's got to, right? Someone's gotta take responsibility if G.o.d won't step in with a big, stupid sandaled foot. Yeah, there's little Danny out on the street taking. Money. Jewellery. Bites out of people.

Bulls.h.i.t story. It wasn't even the orphanage woman who'd said that to him, for one thing. It was some cop, or someone's dad, a big friendly bear of a man, sat beside him on a low wall on a leafy street with no sidewalks. Weird how the memory stayed with him, no matter how deep he tried to bury it.

What was strange was that so many people were ready to forgive even the worst s.h.i.t you did. You just fed them some lines and they found excuses for you. Weak. They tried to make out that you were weak, a victim of your own screw-ups. Couldn't bear to admit you were really the predator. That you'd taken charge, that you were brave enough to take what you wanted because you weren't prepared to leave it to 'fate'.

He had a headache. d.a.m.ned sun was too hot, the room was getting like an oven. He could smell his own sweat. He never stopped sweating, but really that was because he was brave. Bravery meant doing stuff, even when you were scared. And when you were scared, you sweated. Everyone knew.

Jesus, who needed a shrink?

Jacqui stirred a little in her sleep, turned her face with its silly, secret smile towards him. He made her feel 'deliciously weak', that's what she'd told him. She hadn't needed to. From the moment he saw her, he'd known. He'd come to recognise the type.

This headache was bad, right behind his eyes. Clearly he was thinking too much. That didn't help anything. He necked some pills with stale water from last night. Pain had to be controlled like everything else. Especially pain.

Angrily he slapped Jacqui's cheek with the back of his hand. She jumped, cried out in pain, and he kicked her out of bed. She caught her shoulder on the corner of her bedside table as she fell, and it crashed down on top of her.

'Sorry, Daniel,' she shouted as she struggled out from under the debris, a wild look in her big eyes. 'I'm sorry, really I am.'

He stared at her. 'Just fix me some breakfast.'

Once he'd dressed and eaten, Basalt pushed away his empty plate and Jacqui took it to the sink without a word. She was sulking, but he guessed secretly she was thrilled by the drama of it. Her fall had left her with a livid red welt on her arm. She would wear it like a medal around the other girls, he just knew.

'I'm going out,' he announced.

Jacqui tried to act casual but he heard her voice shake. 'When will you be back?'

'Tonight.' He paused. 'Unless I find someone better, which won't be hard.'

Jacqui nodded, her eyes downcast. 'I'll cook something special.'

'Don't. I'd sooner eat alone.' He got up and walked heavily across the room to check how he looked in the mirror. Straightened his tie. He'd do. 'Just be in bed waiting.'

She nodded again, and he trotted out of her smart apartment. He'd spent too much time round here lately; after tonight he should seek out someone new. Life got so flat if you kept at the same thing. And that just wasn't him any more.

Not since Erasmus and the girl came to him, anyhow.

Nineteen down. Nencini was the last. The deal had been for twenty then he would be free for his spree. And the Canonshires would off the Italian guy any time now. They seemed kosher, and keen enough; he should maybe call and chase them up. Normally, people couldn't wait to set the date.

Yeah. Nencini would be dead any time now.

He'd thought of killing the Italian himself, but he wanted the couple's cash, and he'd already offed the old lady. He wanted enough cash to have the biggest goodbye blast this world had ever seen. Then Erasmus would take him away somewhere he'd never be found. He could forget everything. Have everything. Want for nothing.

Not even Stacy.

Such a shame about Stacy...

He smiled. Neither Erasmus nor the girl knew he'd been in touch with her. Of course they didn't.

Daniel Basalt was in control, whatever anyone else thought.

Not long after he set off for Fulham, his cellphone rang.

'Yes.'

Basalt, it's Chongy here.'

'Why are you calling?'

'Prometheus is blown. Tommo and Jack can't dump the woman now, we had snoopers round.' is blown. Tommo and Jack can't dump the woman now, we had snoopers round.'

'Police?'

'I don't think so. Man and a woman. They could handle themselves.'

Basalt pulled the Porsche straight over into a bus lane and switched off the engine. 'Where is the body now?'

'In the van. We have to get rid of it.'

'I thought Timeless was paying you for that service, Mr Chong.'

'We need to meet. I can get you someone else, sure '

'You've been careless. I want approval of anyone new.' He was the boss, of course he had to have approval. 'Jesus, Chong, there's only two of these left to do. All right. I'll meet you at the warehouse, at five.'

He killed the call and swore. Why did this have to happen now, just as he was about to meet Erasmus? He could keep quiet about it, but if that little blonde freak happened to touch him she would know the truth all right. And he couldn't afford to upset them now.

Then again, perhaps she would be out on her own again. He'd taken her back home to Erasmus just yesterday, once he'd picked her up outside the dark girl's place. The man had shouted and scolded but what did he expect? He offered the kid no discipline, no real control. Something could happen to her. And it wasn't allowed to, not before she'd fixed things for him.

He shuddered. Chloe wasn't scared of him, little freak b.i.t.c.h. She knew him, she said, sounding just like the shrinks and the doctors. She didn't know jack except he was hot for diamonds, like she was. That's why she'd come to him in the first place. And because he got things done. But she always looked at him with a sneer, all snooty, like she was so superior.

Basalt wondered if it was a different story at night. If Chloe ever snuck into Erasmus's bed those nights when the moon hangs like a skull waiting to snap down and crush you. If she hoped to be held the way all kids did, and whether Erasmus ever let her nuzzle up close or just pushed her away, left her on her own.

He turned on the stereo. Its thud and blare shook the car.

What kind of a freakin' name was Erasmus anyway?

'Why have things gone wrong with the clearing up?'

Erasmus sounded petulant, like a child who's been promised a trip to the beach but then it rains. His broad brow was creased with worry, his blue eyes dull and gla.s.sy. 'I hate talking about all this.'

'I can't even think about it,' Chloe chimed from the other side of the room, sat beside that stupid black animal with her doll. What was she even doing in the room when they talked about stuff like this?

Maybe she just liked the view. Erasmus's base of operations, the Timeless suite of offices, boasted an incredible boardroom one big, long, wood-floored s.p.a.ce with large, circular windows that showed views you shouldn't be able to see, views that changed every time Basalt came here. The door on the street outside was plain and green about the only green thing along the whole of Fulham Palace Road. But once you came up the stairs everything was different. If you believed your eyes there was a forest outside. Or a castle. Or some country scene like a dusty old British painting, or something out of a science-fiction flick.

'Different worlds, but all the same,' Chloe had said the first time he'd realised how screwed-up the windows were. Like that explained anything. He'd felt stupid. Scared and helpless. He'd never wanted to kill her more than in that moment.

Now he understood a little more it wasn't so bad. They'd forced him to accept take for granted, even that this crazy stuff was for real, real as the money they were giving him and the dreams they were bringing true. It was easy to believe, in a way. It proved that good things never come to those who wait only those who take.

Today the view seemed much like that you'd expect from an office window round here: grimy buildings, ratty pigeons weathering a shower of rain, bored employees smoking out of stained windows. Maybe the trick wasn't working today.

'Daniel, this worries me, it really does.' Erasmus bit his lip. His doughy features were pressed into a deeper frown than ever. 'Is the money we're giving you not enough?'

'I'll need more,' he said automatically, thinking of the spree waiting for him. 'With more cash I can fix everything. Someone got suspicious about the dumping, is all.'

'How? You promised you would be careful. Neat and careful, with no mess and no fuss.'

Basalt fought to keep the irritation from his voice. 'I'm making new arrangements this afternoon, meeting the man at five in my own offices. Why don't you join us, Erasmus? Set your mind at rest, and leave me to worry about these last messy details.'

'I suppose we could come,' said Erasmus slowly. 'But we'll come after you've dealt with this man, tomorrow morning. And you can tell us. We don't want to meet people like him.'

'No, we don't,' said Chloe, with a shudder. 'We hate people like him.'

'Like me, you mean,' said Basalt. 'So give me the stones and I'm out of here.'

Erasmus looked over at Chloe. 'How many money-diamonds do we have left for Daniel?'

The girl sighed.

'What's the matter?'

'Jamais has tummy-ache. He's got too much mist in his stomach.'

Erasmus pondered this. 'He'll be all right,' he said brightly. 'He just wants a rest.'

'He's not well.'

'Chloe, how many diamonds?'

She sighed. 'Not many.'

'You're sitting on piles of them,' Basalt retorted. He'd barged in on the girl's room once. She'd nearly freaked.

'Those aren't money-diamonds.' Chloe's funny eyes narrowed to slits. 'I keep one for everyone we've helped. I can name the person who gave me every one of those diamonds,' she said proudly.

'But what about the ones we pay with?' said Erasmus patiently. 'How many of the leftovers?'

There were a number of large circular recessions set into the far wall. Chloe crossed to one and it glowed with a pale light. Behind it, as if the wall had turned translucent, was a small pouch.

Basalt's mouth started to water when he saw how stuffed it looked. Chloe dealt him out a casual handful.