Doctor Who: Target - Novelisations [113] - Black Orchid by Terence Dudley

Author:Terence Dudley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426202547
Publisher: Target Books
Published: 1987-02-14T23:00:00+00:00

6

The Pierrot Reappears

The Doctor looked at his reflection in the cheval-glass with some satisfaction. He donned the head piece and smiled behind the painted mask at the reflected stranger before him. He bowed ironically to discover that his own tail coat, beneath the fancy dress, inhibited free movement. He’d be better off without it. He removed the head piece and began to undo his costume.

It was only natural, he supposed, that Lady Cranleigh should wish the ball to be continued without embarrassment or alarm. The elaborate facade, erected by what was known as high society in this period, hid many social skeletons in many murky cupboards. As many ills and as much unpleasantness as possible were masked from those of delicate sensibility by a cult of good manners in which hypocrisy played a very grubby part. Victorian and Edwardian values in England had survived the revealing Great War in Europe and the still powerful upper and middle classes set great store by the preservation of a social fabric which was now under threat from the vulgar, the self-seeking and the envious.

The body he’d discovered was corporeal enough but it flitted into the good Doctor’s mind that it was not unknown for distinguished piles to house dry, clandestine bones and the dead Digby could be, at one time, well qualified for such a fate. Why not now? No, the police were to be called. The Doctor dismissed the thought.

Nevertheless Cranleigh Hall did contain some closely guarded secret and had been penetrated by a killer. Could they be one and the same?

Ann again lay on the bed, her eyes closed and her face shiny with sweat, but unharmed. The creature sat on the bed, the bloodshot eye fixed on the girl who was twitching with the unconscious reflex actions of a suppressed terror.

The creature slowly put out a hand and gently touched the tortured, pretty face. A muscle shivered beneath the touch and the creature snatched back the hand as if it had been hurt. The inflamed eye closed and the hand was put to the gash in the face in an acknowledgement of pain.

A sound from the other side of the door turned the creature’s repulsive head, the eye wide with alarm. Slowly, the savage deformity rose from the bed to face the door squarely, the melted hands lifting defensively.

In spite of herself Lady Cranleigh flinched from the other side of the door and signalled to the Indian to take her place. He did so and grasped the handle to turn it. The door was unyielding.

‘It is locked, Lady’ the Indian whispered. Lady Cranleigh closed her eyes, her face compressed in pain.

The Indian knocked on the door with his knuckles.

‘My friend, it is I. Open!’

The creature did not move. The Indian spoke again.

‘My friend! My good friend, open for me!’ The creature’s burning eye looked at the key in the lock but still it did not move.

The Indian knocked again and waited. Then he turned to look at Lady Cranleigh shaking his head.

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