Doctor Who: BBC Eighth Doctor Adventures [070] - The Sleep of Reason by Martin Day

Author:Martin Day
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563486206
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2004-10-12T22:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Spy vs Spy

(Life’s a Riot)

‘Mind if I join you?’

Laska looked up from her bowl of cornflakes. Dr Smith stood over her, a plate of dry toast in one hand and a mesmeric smile on his face.

Laska grunted. ‘It’s a free country.’

‘Indeed it is.’ Smith sat opposite Laska, positioning the toast just so in front of him. He proceeded to toy with the plate absently, rotating it first one way, then the other, but making no attempt to eat. In fact, now she thought of it, she’d never seen, still less could even imagine, Smith doing anything as mundane as eating, or sleeping, or scratching his balls. The foppish clothing he wore probably didn’t help; he seemed so removed, so above, the trivia of everyday life that he reminded Laska of sanitised paintings of Christ that so concentrated on his divinity – a supernatural aura or distant, faraway eyes – they omitted to give him dirty fingernails or less than perfect teeth.

Laska and Smith sat in silence for a few moments, Laska feeling suddenly nervous, like a schoolgirl moments before her first meaningful exam. What had happened before was a mere exercise; this, now, was serious.

‘Your light was on late last night,’ said Smith suddenly.

Laska concentrated on her next mouthful of breakfast cereal before replying with great deliberation. ‘I’m starting to think you’re spying on me.’

To his great credit, Smith did not entirely dismiss Laska’s suggestion. ‘There is something going on here at the Retreat,’ said Smith. ‘You’re not stupid. You must have felt it.’

‘The murder of the security guard?’

‘You’ve heard?’

‘Everyone’s heard.’ Laska indicated the rest of the dining area, the people huddled in discreetly hushed groups. ‘Anyway, Fitz told me.’

‘Did he now?’ Smith nodded. ‘Yes, it involves the murder of that poor man – and much more besides.’

‘You’ve got a building full of suspects,’ said Laska. ‘Why me?’

‘Oh, I don’t suspect you of the crime itself,’ exclaimed Smith. Then he paused, and looked at her quizzically, as if for the first time. ‘At least… I don’t think… No, I don’t suspect you of anything so absolutely evil.’

‘Then what have I done wrong?’

‘Don’t sound so guilty,’ said Smith with a chuckle. ‘I’m not a policeman.’

‘You’re starting to sound like one.’

‘My friends… I’m not sure if you know, their area of expertise is forensic psychiatry.’

‘I thought they were historians. Anyway, what the hell is forensic psychiatry?’

Smith continued without an explanation. ‘I suppose their interests, their specialisation… After a while it rubs off on you.’

Laska finished her cornflakes and pushed the bowl forward. ‘I’m not sure I believe you,’ she said. ‘When I see the three of you together… They’re learning from you, they’re being influenced by you… Not the reverse.’

Smith smiled, neither denying nor agreeing with her comments.

‘Where are they, anyway?’ queried Laska. ‘Off running an errand for you, I suppose.’

‘I’ve asked them to inspect the grounds, search for clues – it’ll help the police, when they get here.’

‘Oh, I’m sure the police’ll love that – a murder in the local nut-house

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