Part 22 (2/2)

'But you must understand man. You dig the music too. This is the cla.s.sic Ellington outfit we're talking about here. With Ben Webster, Ray Nance, Billy Strayhorn, baby. These aren't just any records we're talking about.'

'How many people are going to have to die so you can complete your collection?' said the Doctor. 'Besides ourselves of course.'

Imperial Lee stepped away from Lady Silk, smiling and shaking his head.

'Good point. We must proceed with the sacrifice. Thank you for reminding us.'

Ace flashed an angry look at the Doctor. 'Yeah, thanks a lot.'

Ray hurried over to Imperial Lee. He stood there, trembling with repressed emotion. 'There's no need to do this, man. We don't need to shed the blood, baby, just use the equations and the desire to cross over. That's all we needed before.'

145.'Not at this end,' said Imperial Lee. He nodded at the Storrows, who stood there looking increasingly redundant and ludicrous in their white robes. They were no longer pointing their Tommy guns at the captives but that offered no encouragement to Ace. She couldn't see any possibility of escape now that they were outnumbered seven to two. Eight to two if you counted Ray amongst the opposition.

'At this end we had the Storrows making their blood sacrifice when we arrived.' Imperial Lee patted Ray on the shoulder. It was meant to be a rea.s.suring gesture, but it caused Ray to flinch. 'And now that we need reinforcements to join us here we must make another sacrifice so they can cross over from our home world.'

'But it was just a sheep before, man,' said Ray. 'They weren't making a human sacrifice. If you really want to do this bloodshed number then just use an animal.'

'He has a point,' said Ace quickly.

Lee shook his head wistfully. 'What would be the point of killing some poor animal?'

'That's pretty rich coming from a man who wants to blow up the universe,'

said Ace.

'I imagine his point of view is that when you have an infinite number of universes, destroying one doesn't make a lot of difference,' said the Doctor.

Imperial Lee shrugged and put his hat back on, as if signalling a return to business. He looked at Ray and Lady Silk. 'The point is, these people are our enemies and we need to get rid of them anyway. Using them for the sacrifice is killing two birds with one stone.'

'How commendably parsimonious,' said the Doctor.

'All this chitchat is wearing me out,' said Lady Silk. 'Why don't we just get started?' She reached into the pocket of her jacket and took out a small box.

She handed it to Ray. For a moment Ace thought she was offering him a cigarette, but Ray opened the box to reveal a dozen black crayons.

'Do I have to?' said Ray.

Lady Silk smiled indulgently, as if encouraging a child. 'Just think, you're going to be back home in no time, and with all these lovely records!' She took the record bag from Ray. He watched her with suspicion and alarm as she carefully placed it in a corner of the room. Only when the bag was obviously safe did Ray select one of the crayons and hunker down on his fat thighs and begin to write on the white tiles of the floor.

'What's he doing?' said Ace.

'Writing the necessary calculations.'

'The necessary incantations incantations,' said Albert Storrow firmly.

'You say potato,' said the Doctor.

146.Just then an electric bell rang out, shrill and loud, echoing harshly and metallically in the big tiled bas.e.m.e.nt. Silk and Imperial Lee exchanged a look, as did Albert and Elina Storrow.

'Are you expecting. . . ' said Lee.

'No one,' said Albert Storrow tersely.

'Then you'd better go up and see who it is.' Albert handed his machine gun to Elina and hurried towards the stairs in his ludicrous white robe. 'Both of you,' said Imperial Lee. 'Take their guns, boys.' Two of the young men in suits went to Elina and took the Thompson guns from her as she turned to join Albert. The couple made their way swiftly and silently to the staircase in their flowing robes. The young men with machine guns turned to aim them at the Doctor and Ace.

Albert and Elina hurried up the stairs as the bell rang again.

Butcher stood at the door, pressing on the bell. He could hear it ringing deep in the confines of the house or the chapel, as the plaque beside the door called it. A porch light shone above Butcher with moths fluttering around it.

He wandered away from the front door, down the steps and out into the dark garden. He looked around the side of the house. There was a ceramic pot with a garden hose coiled in it and a pile of lumber with an axe beside it.

He went back around the corner and up the steps to the front door and rang again. The place seemed empty but there was a large car parked in the driveway and Butcher had checked the hood on it. The engine was still warm.

Somebody was inside, all right. He waited a moment, then pressed the bell again.

Before leaving the Hill, Butcher had contacted some old friends at the Pinkertons detective agency. He could have gone through military channels, but that would have had the twin disadvantages of being slower and of alert-ing his superiors to the fact that one of Butcher's charges had slipped away from the Hill. It had been a simple enough matter for the Pinkertons to issue a description of Ray Morita a difficult man to miss in a crowd and once it had been established that he was travelling towards Los Angeles, Butcher too had set off in that direction. Of course, there were any number of other places where Ray might have been headed, but as the reports continued to come in, LA looked more and more likely.

Then Butcher had spotted a newspaper advertis.e.m.e.nt for the Ellington concert and had put two and two together. While he was still en route to LA he'd wired his Pinkerton contacts to keep an eye on the concert hall and they'd spotted Ray and tailed him back to this house or chapel on a quiet tree-lined street in Bay City. He'd borrowed a car and driven out there as soon as 147he arrived. The Pinkertons had offered to help with the pick-up, but Butcher knew that he might at any moment have to start acting in an official capacity.

Also, he wanted to apprehend the fat buffoon himself.

Butcher was about to ring the bell again when the door suddenly sprang open. A small, neatly dressed man with wire-framed spectacles peered out.

His face was flushed. He smiled at Butcher. 'Sorry about that. The Missus and I were just busy in the bas.e.m.e.nt.' He opened the door wide, revealing a shadowy, narrow entrance hall with potted palm trees and the glimpse of a staircase leading upwards. 'What can I do for you?'

Butcher showed the man his credentials. The little fellow took his time scrutinising them, squinting through his spectacles. Then he looked up at Butcher again, smiling uncertainly, his eyes catching a reflection of the electric light above the porch. 'I guess you'd better come in, Major.'

He ushered Butcher into a carpeted lounge full of antique furniture, turning on lights as he went. As he did so an enormously fat woman came up behind him. 'Who is it, dear?'

'It's a Major Butcher. He seems to be here on an important security matter.

Major, this is my wife, Elina.'

Butcher nodded at the woman. He noticed that her face was flushed, too.

He wondered just what exactly they'd been up to in the bas.e.m.e.nt when he'd rung the doorbell. 'So this place is a chapel?' he said.

'Used to be,' said the man quickly. 'It hasn't been used for that purpose for some time now.'

'Why not?' said Butcher.

'Because the owners, the people who run the chapel, have left the country.'

'Where have they gone?' Butcher spoke to the man but he looked at the big woman hovering in the doorway. She smiled at him.

'To Mexico. For the duration, they said.'

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