Part 21 (1/2)

'Right, all of you, out of here,' the Doctor announced.

Amazingly, most of the men shuffled towards the door, as though they had been waiting for someone to take charge.

One man stayed with Denman. The Chief Constable was sitting on a beige couch, a look of crushed innocence on his face. The man with him stood and moved towards the Doctor, holding out a hand.

'Deputy Chief Constable Savage,' he said briskly. 'And you are...?'

'A friend,' said the Doctor, moving past the man without acknowledging his outstretched hand. Hill, who had followed the Doctor into the room, gave Savage a respectful sideways glance but otherwise said nothing.

Denman looked up as the Doctor approached. The policeman had that same faraway look that the Doctor had seen in the eyes of men suffering from sh.e.l.l shock in the First World War, and on the faces of the victims of the sonic ma.s.sacres in fifty-first-century Brisbane. Some things didn't change through time.

'You came,' he said, his voice thin and wasted.

'Of course,' said the Doctor, sitting beside Denman. 'You should try to get some rest.'

'I'm all right,' said Denman.

'No you're not.' The Doctor tapped the gla.s.s of whisky in Denman's hand. 'You should either drink that, or pour it in the sink. Don't sit there playing with it.'

'You're right,' said Denman, downing the drink in one.

Colour began to flood back into his cheeks. 'She was...' he began, but got no further.

'I know,' said the Doctor, as Denman crumpled into his arms. The Doctor held him tightly, as Denman buried his head against the little man's shoulder. Savage and Hill fidgeted nervously. 'Put the kettle on,' said the Doctor, and both men moved simultaneously to the door, their expressions mirroring each other's embarra.s.sment.

Denman raised his head, his eyes red and swollen, his face wet with tears. 'Why?' he asked, as if a simple answer to that question would make everything all right again.

'The message she left was quite clear,' replied the Doctor in a soft voice, remembering the terse words written in lipstick on the cell wall. 'That ”they” were getting at you through her.'

'Shanks?'

'Yes. And she wanted to save you in the only way she could,' said the Doctor. He paused. 'You had a close relations.h.i.+p?'

'Yes. It was perfect.'

'No relations.h.i.+p is ever perfect,' stated the Doctor brutally.

He could almost see the memories pa.s.sing across Denman's tear-stained face. 'If there were... problems, it was because of Hexen Bridge.'

'No,' said the Doctor firmly. 'You can't blame everything on your heritage. None of us can. We each have to accept a measure of responsibility.'

Denman shook his head against the gentle pressure of the Doctor's words. 'But I tried so hard to protect her.'

'Perhaps too hard,' said the Doctor. He sighed. It was too late for recriminations. 'Ah, look,' he said brightly, as Savage and Hill came back into the room. 'Tea.'

'And then, when she was fourteen, she broke her collarbone doing gymnastics at school,' said Denman, the trace of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He stopped. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I've got to take a leak. Help yourself to more tea.'

When he had climbed the stairs, Hill and Savage both looked accusingly at the Doctor, who continued to sip Earl Grey from a mug.

'What the h.e.l.l are you playing at?' said Savage angrily. 'It can't be right, encouraging him to bare his soul like this.'

'I disagree,' said the Doctor.

'And you're an expert, are you?' countered Hill.

'As it happens, yes,' replied the Doctor. 'But that really isn't the point. He's lost the one thing in the world that mattered to him. To deny she ever existed would be to seal over a broken heart with an Elastoplast.'

Savage stood and paced the room. 'I want to know who you are, for a start,' he said, menacingly.

'Me?' said the Doctor. 'Oh, I'm just a traveller.'

From above them there came the sound of a flus.h.i.+ng toilet and the heavy footfall of Denman descending the stairs.

'Now, where were we?' he said, arriving at the living-room door with a weak smile on his face. 'More tea?'

'Ian,' said Savage, 'for Christ's sake...'

Denman looked at Savage curiously. 'No tea, then.

Something stronger?'

Savage shook his head in exasperation. 'Who is that man?'

he demanded, pointing at the Doctor.

'That's the Doctor,' said Denman. 'He's going to help us catch Kenny Shanks.'

'And how the h.e.l.l is he going to do that?' continued Savage.

'Breaking and entering,' announced the Doctor sharply.

'The man's mad,' said Savage.

'No,' cut in Denman. 'It's us that have been mad. We should have gone after Shanks years years ago. It might have saved us a lot of grief - and a few lives.' ago. It might have saved us a lot of grief - and a few lives.'