Part 40 (1/2)

The Doctor was moving with great rapidity through the still-bustling ranks of MPs. Cromwell was on his feet and speaking, seemingly unconcerned that an a.s.sa.s.sin's hand might shortly be raised against him.

'I move that the King's trial be brought forward with all due expedition,' he thundered. 'A list of commissioners must be named and a chairman found.'

Beneath him moved Ben and Jamie, snaking through the cramped benches in pursuit of the Doctor.

'Can you no see him?' asked Jamie.

Ben looked about desperately, conscious that he was crucial to the discovery of the a.s.sa.s.sin. He shook his head.

'He's not here. I'm sure of it. Doctor!'

He called out but the little man was already disappearing into the a.s.sembly.

'Where's he off to?' said Jamie wonderingly.

Some sixth sense made Ben whirl round, looking past the benches and up into the galleries. It took him only a few seconds to recognise the barrel of a gun projecting through the elaborate trelliswork.

'There!' he hissed, trying to point as discreetly as possible.

Jamie followed his gaze and let out a little gasp. 'That's where the Doctor's going. Come on!'

'No!' Ben grabbed him by the shoulder. 'I'll go. You get to Cromwell and get him off his feet. Quick!'

They split apart and Ben elbowed his way through the crowd towards a narrow spiral staircase which he could see the Doctor already ascending. He looked back to see Jamie having trouble moving in the sea of men. Cromwell was still speaking, listing likely commissioners who would sit in judgement on the King.

Ben pelted on, dragging his weary legs up the hard stone steps. He reached the top of the stairs, gasping for breath, and almost fell over the Doctor, who had stopped dead.

'Shh!' he said abruptly, jamming his finger to his lips.

They were standing at the entrance to a narrow corridor, which was divided in two by a narrow wooden wall. Pale light bled in through the stone lattice of the gallery wall but most of the area was plunged into sepulchral gloom.

Ben looked hard and suddenly made out the black-clad figure of van Leeuwenhoek, his skull-like face pressed close to the lattice, his hand closed around the long iron barrel of a very strange-looking musket.

The Doctor took Ben to one side and whispered urgently in his ear. 'He's waiting for a clear shot. Once everyone is sitting down, Cromwell's a dead man.'

Ben moved at once to rush the Dutchman but the Doctor held his arm and shook his head violently. Ben made a helpless gesture as if to say 'What?'

The Doctor pulled him down to his height and whispered again. 'If he sees us, he won't think twice about murdering us instead.'

'What can we do, then?' Ben murmured.

The Doctor beckoned to Ben and pointed at the wooden part.i.tion. He then prodded his finger into Ben's chest and indicated that he should go around the part.i.tion and behind van Leeuwenhoek. Then the Doctor pointed to himself and mimed walking up to the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin.

'Two-p.r.o.nged attack, eh?' whispered Ben with a smile.

'OK.'

He crept forward into the corridor and then slipped behind the part.i.tion. At once, the Doctor began to move towards the Dutchman, his face fixed in a beatific smile.

At the sound of the Doctor's boots, van Leeuwenhoek whirled around, brandis.h.i.+ng the musket, his face filled with surprised anger.

'Ah,' said the Doctor pleasantly. 'It's Mr van Leeuwenhoek, isn't it? I've heard so much about you.'

The Dutchman looked quickly around, confused. Then his sallow face relaxed. 'You are alone, sir? That was a mistake.'

The Doctor nodded. 'Possibly. But you can't kill me and General Cromwell, can you?'

Van Leeuwenhoek sneered. 'Keep back, little fool. I shall kill Cromwell and then take care of you.'

The Doctor held up his hands. 'That's a very interesting weapon. Quite unique I should say. What does it do?'

Van Leeuwenhoek frowned, a little puzzled, and stroked the gun tenderly. 'My life's work. Elegant, efficient... And soon the little dart will fly from the barrel and into the gentleman's neck.'

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 'Dart?'

The Dutchman smiled, his yellowy teeth showing. 'Yes, a dart. You do not think such a weapon fires a musket ball?'

Frowning, the Doctor looked more closely at the gun. It didn't really resemble a musket it was more like an airgun.

The doctor clicked his fingers. 'I see! And the dart... the dart would be dipped in poison would it?'

Van Leeuwenhoek shook with silent mirth. 'You think me so crude, little man?'

The Doctor frowned, thinking hard. If he could delay the Dutchman long enough...

Something suddenly flashed in his mind like a signpost.

Something about 'Got it!' cried the Doctor. 'Anton van Leeuwenhoek! The microscope man!'

The Dutchman shook his head. 'My brother. I am Gustavus. But his... samples have come in very useful.'

The Doctor looked at him appalled. 'What have you got on those darts?'

Van Leeuwenhoek shrugged. 'Oh, just a little something.

Something from a pustule.'

'Plague?' gasped the Doctor.

Van Leeuwenhoek nodded excitedly and slapped the barrel of the gun. 'I will cut down this Cromwell of yours and he will expire before the week is out. None shall even know he has been hit! The sights here act as a guide.'

The Doctor looked. There was indeed a kind of sight screwed into the long iron barrel.