Jasper Fforde_Thursday Next_02 by Lost in a Good Book

Author:Lost in a Good Book
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Social Science, Thursday (Fictitious Character), Audio Adult: Books On Tape, Research, Literary, Mystery Fiction, Women Sleuths, Next, Women Detectives - Great Britain, Time Travel, Fantasy Fiction, Unabridged Audio - Fiction, English, Fiction - Authorship, Fiction, Women Detectives, Mystery & Detective, Contemporary, General, Books and Reading, Fantasy, Audiobooks
ISBN: 9780142004036
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2002-11-15T06:00:00+00:00

Outside, paramedics were dealing with the casualties, many of them still clutching the remnants of the bargains for which they had fought so bravely. My car was gone — towed away, most likely — and we trotted as fast as we could on Miss Havisham’s twisted ankle, round the corner of the building until—

“Not so fast!”

The officers who had chased us earlier were blocking our path.

“Looking for something? This, I suppose?”

My car was on the back of a low loader being taken away.

“We’ll take the bus,” I stammered.

“You’ll take the car,” corrected the police officer. “My car — Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

He was talking to Miss Havisham, who had taken the Farquitt boxed set and walked into a small group of women to disguise her bookjump — back to Great Expectations or the bun shop in Little Dorrit or somewhere. I wished I could join her but my skills in these matters were not really up to scratch. I sighed.

“We want some answers, Next,” said the policeman in a grim tone.

“Listen, Rawlings, I don’t know the lady very well. What did she say her name was? Dame-rouge?”

“It’s Havisham, Next — but you know that, don’t you? That ‘lady’ is extremely well known to the police — she’s racked up seventy-four outrageously serious driving offenses in the past twenty-two years.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. In June she was clocked driving a chain-driven Liberty-engined Higham Special automobile at 171.5 MPH down the M4. It’s not only irresponsible, it’s — Why are you laughing?”

“No reason.”

The officer stared at me.

“You seem to know her quite well, Next. Why does she do these things?”

“Probably,” I replied, “because they don’t have motorways where she comes from — or 27-liter Higham Specials.”

“And where would that be, Next?”

“I have no idea.”

“I could arrest you for helping the escape of an individual in custody.”

“She wasn’t arrested, Rawlings, you said so yourself.”

“Perhaps not, but you are. In the car.”

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