119 - Doctor Who - The Reign of Terror by Ian Marter

Author:Ian Marter [Marter, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-07-12T01:23:04+00:00

‘No, thank you,’ said the Doctor, sitting down.

But the gaoler picked up a mug, wiped it out with his elbow and set it in front of the Doctor. Then he took out the bottle and poured him a generous measure. ‘Citizen, I would deem it a privilege if I could be of help,’ he said, plonking himself in the other chair.

The Doctor bowed his head in acknowledgement. ‘It is a simple matter,’ he explained. ‘Three traitors were arrested in my province and brought here - a young man, a young woman and a girl. I wish to interrogate them.’

The gaoler’s smug grin instantly evaporated. He stopped with the bottle half-way to his lips. ‘The two women were dispatched to the guillotine yesterday, Citizen,’ he said.

The Doctor quickly turned away his head so that the ruffian would not see his devastated reaction.

There was an ominous pause. The the gaoler cleared his throat. ‘Unfortunately... there was a rescue, Citizen,’ he finally confessed.

The Doctor turned sharply. ‘Rescue? By whom?’

The gaoler took a couple of fortifying swigs of cognac.

‘We don’t know yet. It’s happened a lot recently. You realise I’m not to blame, Citizen,’ he added nervously.

‘Once the prisoners leave the Conciergerie they’re outside my jurisdiction.

The Doctor waved his hand impatiently. ‘Yes, yes, of course, of course... But what about the young man?’

The gaoler squirmed uncomfortably. ‘The young man, Citizen?’ he stalled.

‘Come on, out with it!’ snapped the Doctor.

‘He escaped too, Citizen.’ The unhappy gaoler pointed to his bandaged head. ‘He was a dangerous fanatic. He almost killed me. I fought with him. I was ready to sacrifice my life to prevent his escape... But he fought like ten men...’

The Doctor rose gravely to his feet. ‘I believe you, Citizen. You did all you could,’ he said. ‘It would never have happened were you not surrounded by incompetent fools.’

The gaoler staggered to his feet nodding vehemently.

The Doctor paced to and fro. ‘So, the three of them are at liberty, somewhere in Paris...’ he mused.

The gaoler sidled unsteadily over to him. ‘They’ll be caught Citizen, rest assured,’ he promised.

‘What? Oh yes. Thank you, Citizen,’ said the Doctor absently, picking up his stick and his papers from the table and turning to depart. ‘I shall take up no more of your time.’

As he did so, a tall figure stepped out of the narrow passage leading off the alcove. It was Lemaître. The Doctor hesitated, staring at the imposing figure, uncertain what to do.

The gaoler scuttled over to Lemaître. ‘Citizen Lemaître, the Citizen here has been inquiring...’

Lemaître waved him away. ‘I heard what was said,’ he snapped, gazing intently at the Doctor as though trying to fathom the true purpose behind the stranger’s inscrutable grey eyes. ‘Your papers, Citizen!’ he demanded.

The Doctor handed over his documents and Lemaître flicked open the folded papers as if he were swatting a fly.

‘The Citizen is a Provincial...’

‘I can read, thank you, gaoler,’ Lemaître retorted caustically, scanning the documents impassively. He handed them back to the Doctor. ‘Where you you going now, Citizen?’ he demanded.

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