I was going to go farther and tell him about Rochester jumping back after the shooting at Styx’s apartment, but at that moment Bowden put his head into the corridor and asked us to come in.
Mr Rumplunkett had finished his initial examination.
‘One shot through the heart, very clean, very professional. Everything about the body otherwise normal except evidence of rickets in childhood. It’s quite rare these days so it shouldn’t be difficult to trace, unless of course he spent his youth in another country. Very poor dental work and lice. It’s probable he hasn’t had a bath for at least a month. There is not a lot I can tell you except his last meal was suet, mutton and ale. There’ll be more when the tissue samples come back from the lab.’
Victor and I exchanged looks. I was correct. The corpse had to be Mr Quaverley’s. We all left hurriedly; I explained to Bowden who Quaverley was and where he came from.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Bowden as we walked towards the car. ‘How did Hades take Mr Quaverley out of
‘Because he went for the original manuscript,’ I answered, ‘for the maximum disruption. All copies anywhere on the planet, in whatever form, originate from that first act of creation. When the original changes, all the others have to change too. If you could go back a hundred million years and change the genetic code of the first mammal, every one of us would be completely different. It amounts to the same thing.’
‘Okay,’ said Bowden slowly, ‘but why is Hades doing this? If it was extortion, why kill Quaverley?’
I shrugged.
‘Perhaps it was a warning. Perhaps he has other plans. There are far bigger fish than Mr Quaverley in
‘Then why isn’t he telling us?’
21. Hades & Goliath
‘All my life I have felt destiny tugging at my sleeve. Few of us have any real idea what it is we are here to do and when it is that we are to do it. Every small act has a knock-on consequence that goes on to affect those about us in unseen ways. I was lucky that I had so clear a purpose.’
But he was. When we got back a letter was waiting for me at the station. I had hoped it was from Landen but it wasn’t. It bore no stamp and had been left on the desk that morning. No one had seen who delivered it.
I called Victor over as soon as I had read it, laying the sheet of paper on my desk to avoid touching it any more than I had to. Victor put his spectacles on and read the note aloud.
Dear Thursday,
When I heard you had joined the LiteraTec staff I almost believed in divine intervention. It seems that we will at last be able to sort out our differences. Mr Quaverley was just for starters. Martin Chuzzlewit himself is next for the axe unless I get the following: Ј10 million in used notes, a Gainsborough, preferably the one with the boy in blue, an eight-week run of
Victor sat down.
‘It’s signed Acheron. Imagine
‘So what do we do?’ asked Bowden.
‘Unless you have a Gainsborough you don’t want and ten million in loose change, we take this to Braxton.’
Jack Schitt was in Braxton Hicks’s office when we entered. He didn’t offer to leave when we told Hicks it was important and Hicks didn’t ask him to.
‘So what’s up?’ asked Braxton, glancing at Schitt, who was practising his putting on the carpet.
‘Hades is alive,’ I told him, staring at Jack Schitt, who raised an eyebrow.
‘Goodness!’ muttered Schitt in an unconvincing tone. ‘That
We ignored him.
‘Read this,’ said Victor, handing across Acheron’s note in a cellophane wrapper. Braxton read it before passing it to Schitt.
‘Place the ad, Officer Next,’ said Braxton loftily. ‘You seem to have impressed Acheron enough for him to trust you. I’ll speak to my superiors about his demands and you can inform me when he contacts you again.’
He stood up to let us know that the interview had ended but I stayed seated.
‘What’s going on, sir?’
‘Classified, Next. We’d like you to make the drop for us but that’s the only way you can be involved in the operation. Mr Schitt has an extremely well-trained squad behind him who will take care of Hades’ capture. Good- day.’
Still I didn’t rise.
‘You’re going to have to tell me more, sir. My uncle is involved, and if you want me to play ball I’m going to have to know what’s happening.’
Braxton Hicks looked at me and narrowed his eyes.
‘I’m afraid—‘
‘What the hell,’ interjected Schitt. ‘Tell ‘em.’
Braxton looked at Schitt, who continued to practise his putting.
Schitt shrugged and finished the putt. The ball hit its mark and he smiled.
‘Over the last hundred years there has been an inexplicable cross-fertilisation between works of fiction and reality. We know that Mr. Analogy has been investigating the phenomenon for some time, and we know about Mr Glubb and several other characters who have crossed into books. We knew of no one to have returned so we considered it a one-way journey. Christopher Sly changed all that for us.’
‘You have him?’ asked Victor.
‘No; he went back. Quite of his own accord, although unfortunately because he was so drunk he went back not to Will’s version of
He paused for effect and polished his putter with a large red spotted handkerchief.
‘For some time now, the Goliath Advanced Weapons Division has been working on a device that will open a door into a work of fiction. After thirty years of research and untold expenditure, all we have managed to do is synthesise a poor-quality Cheddar from volumes one to eight of
‘You forget,’ I said slowly, ‘that the machine does not belong to you; knowing my uncle he’d destroy the idea for ever rather than sell out to the military.’
