Doctor Who_ Toy Soldiers Part 3

She was interrupted by Henri's voice. 'What is this?

Where have you taken Gabrielle?'

'We haven't taken her anywhere, sir,' said the tall man.

'We're private investigators.'

'We're trying to help,' added the woman.

Henri pushed past Amalie, into the street. 'Private investigators?' he asked. 'Employed by whom?'

The tall man and the negro woman looked at each other.

'That's confidential at the moment,' said the woman.

Henri strode forward, his heavy body blocking Amalie's view for a moment. He looked down at the woman, then up at the man. 'You will tell me who is employing you, now now. Or you will have to explain it to the police.'

Amalie became aware of Jean-Pierre and several of the younger men behind her. She heard someone mutter, 'We should arrest them ourselves -', another, 'Can't trust foreigners.' Most of the men were officers, on leave from the army; obviously they had already decided that the strangers were guilty.

But Amalie wasn't so sure any more. They seemed - gentle, somehow. The young man in particular seemed naive, even a little confused, his blue eyes s.h.i.+fting around the crowd in a puzzled way as if he simply couldn't understand their hostility. And - she remembered her earlier reasoning - why stay around, why claim to be investigators, if they were in fact the kidnappers? It didn't make any sense.

She walked past Henri, who was standing with folded arms staring at the coloured woman, and touched the tall young man's arm. 'What have you found out? Do you know where Gabrielle is?'

He looked down at her, clearly relieved to find someone behaving in a friendly manner. But he shook his head. 'Sorry, ma'am. We haven't managed to -'

'We do know where she isn't,' interrupted the woman.

'She's not on -' She broke off, started again. 'She's not in France any more.'

Amalie heard Henri gasp with surprise, heard angry mutterings of disbelief break out behind her. She ignored them.

'But she's still alive?' she asked, hardly daring to hope.

'She'll be OK,' said the woman. 'If we can find her in time. But we may need some help.' She glanced around the crowd. 'The girl we spoke to this morning said that somebody gave her a teddy bear. Did anyone see this person?'

Amalie stared. 'I saw him,' she said slowly. 'I spoke to him. I said he could give her the toy.' She felt her stomach tighten, as she remembered her earlier fears. She gripped the young man's arms. 'Tell me! Is he a white slaver?

Does he want a ransom? Just tell me what's happening!'

It was the woman who replied. 'We don't know what's happening. Not yet.' She paused, looked at the ground. 'But I can tell you that letting her take the teddy bear may not have been a very good idea.'

'Taking the teddy bear was a mistake. Possibly a serious one.'

The Doctor was pacing to and fro in the tiny room, prodding the bare boards from time to time with his umbrella and glancing down at Edi, who was asleep again. The stranger hadn't said what he was a doctor of, but he had given Edi something to chew which he said would improve her condition, and had produced a couple of pies and a small loaf of rye bread from one of his pockets. He'd insisted that Hannah eat one of the pies before they talked, 'to sharpen up your brain'; she'd nibbled at it, slowly and suspiciously at first, then greedily. It had tasted like chicken, but the Doctor had told her it was some kind of plant thing, better than chicken.

Hannah was fairly sure he was lying and that the food was black market - perhaps smuggled through the blockade; she could see the English name 'Sainsbury' on the grease-proofed paper wrapped around the pies, and some kind of rubber-stamped code, also in English, 'USE BY 29 09 95'.

But it was a gift, and no one could arrest her for taking a gift.

Especially if she had already eaten the evidence. She looked at the other pie and the loaf on the table, almost expecting them to vanish before she got a chance to eat them.

'It was definitely a man who gave you the teddy bear?'

asked the Doctor, stopping his pacing and turning to face Hannah. 'I mean, there wasn't anything unusual about him?

He didn't have green skin? Scales? Horns?'

Hannah stared at her visitor. He appeared to be perfectly serious.

The Doctor must have noticed her incomprehension. He said quickly, 'There are things going on here beyond those you would normally accept as real. You have to believe that.

Green skin, horns and scales are possible. So are oddly shaped ears, oddly coloured eyes, odd numbers of limbs.

Anything.'

Hannah stared at him, trying to read the truth from his face. Was he just tormenting her? She had never believed in magic - all nonsense and sleight of hand, her husband used to say. But looking into the Doctor's eyes, she had a feeling of immense forces stirring, of some fundamental conflict in which this man was a champion. But on which side? Her instincts shouted: the good one, the right one. But they had said that last time, about the other stranger - that he had been good, that he had been kind - and she had taken the teddy bear, and that had been a mistake.

Or at least, this man said it had been a mistake. Who was she supposed to believe? She looked at Edi, quietly curled up in her bed, her lips stained pink from the medicine that the Doctor had given her.

Cautiously she said: 'He was an ordinary man. Taller than you, dressed as a gentleman. He said he was selling the toys, but that n.o.body wanted them because of the shortages, they are saving all their money for black-market food. He said that Edi could have it. He gave her a chocolate, too, and said he wished he could offer more but - ' 'Never mind the chocolate,' interrupted the Doctor. 'He gave the bear to Edi? Not to Josef?'

'Yes, but Edi - Edi -' She felt the tears start, quite suddenly. She tried to control them, ashamed of crying in front of this man, but felt them flow down her cheeks just the same. 'Edi tried to eat it, she was raving, I thought she might choke so I gave it to Josef.' She stopped, sobbed helplessly, once, then wiped her face with her hand and made a forced smile. 'I'm sorry - it's so difficult -'

The Doctor, fl.u.s.tered, began fis.h.i.+ng in his pockets and after a few moments produced a large red silk handkerchief.

'Here,' he said. 'Blow your nose. And don't worry, Edi will be all right. I'll try to come back and - that is, I shouldn't interfere but -' He broke off, almost put the handkerchief away again and then seemed to remember he was supposed to be offering it to her.

Hannah took it and wiped her face. The fabric smelled of sea-salt, as if the man had just come from a beach. She wondered about that, but then, she wondered about the food, too. There seemed to be more of it than could possibly fit in the pocket it had come out of. Perhaps there was was magic in the world. Or at least, failing that, real kindness. She risked a smile. The Doctor grinned back, but broadly, disconcertingly. magic in the world. Or at least, failing that, real kindness. She risked a smile. The Doctor grinned back, but broadly, disconcertingly.

She looked down at the floor.

'So we're looking for a tall, blond man -' said the Doctor.

Hannah frowned. 'No, he was brown-haired. But tall, yes.'

'What did he say?'

'I've told you, that it was a sample -'

'No! Exactly Exactly. What - did - he - say?'

Hannah closed her eyes, struggled to remember. It had been more than six weeks ago after all. "It is a new thing, a cheap teddy bear for all children." I remember he said that.

And, "Everyone will have them soon, as soon as this blockade is over. We have set up factories everywhere." He seemed quite confident.'

'Unnaturally confident?'

Hannah shook her head. 'No. It all seemed perfectly natural. It was only after -' She shook her head. 'It's only now, that I think about it. Where will they build these factories?

There is nothing in Germany - things are so bad, it is all worn out. Yet he was talking as if they were already built.' She paused, looked at the food on the table. Then looked up and met the Doctor's eyes. 'Perhaps he obtained his teddy bear in the same place as you obtained your food and medicine.'

The Doctor met her gaze. His mouth twitched slightly, and he nodded. He fished in his pocket and produced a brown paper bag, which he gave to her.

'Give Edi three of these a day. I'll try to bring some food from time to time.' He was walking round the table, opening the window, clambering out. 'I'll leave it on the windowsill.'

And he was gone. Hannah hurried to the window, half-expecting him to have vanished; but he was walking down the street, twirling his umbrella and looking around him once more. She called after him, 'What about Josef?'

The Doctor stopped walking, looked over his shoulder.

'I'll do my best,' he said. 'I'll do my very best.' Then he walked on.

But somehow, that was enough. Hannah closed the window before the cold draught could affect Edi, then slowly walked back to the bed and looked down at her child. The little girl was asleep, breathing evenly. The sores on her lips were smaller, and seemed less livid than they had even half an hour ago; better still, the lips were curled in a gentle, childish smile.

Hannah discovered that she believed in magic after all.

She began to cry.

The two private detectives had set themselves up on a small round table which was set near the main window of the auberge auberge. Under pressure from Henri, they had revealed that they were American, and were in the employ of a Scottish doctor who lived in Paris. They wouldn't say exactly what they were investigating, except that Gabrielle's disappearance was to do with it. They sat themselves down on the big table by the window, with their backs to the light, and questioned the wedding guests one by one, making their subjects sit facing the window. The negro woman, Forrester, asked most of the questions; the tall young man, whose name was Cwej, jotted the answers down in a lined notebook, occasionally glancing at Forrester.

It seemed like a lot of work to get very little information, thought Amalie. As she watched them from her chair by the fire, they ran through the same questions again and again.

The man - what had he looked like? Had anyone seen where he'd come from? Had anyone seen where he went? When - in terms of how long before the service, how long before Gabrielle's disappearance - had he first been seen? Had anyone seen any unusual lights? Had the teddy bear seemed unusual in any way?

Those last two were the odd ones, thought Amalie blurrily. What were 'unusual lights'? And why did they need to know what the toy had looked like? It was just a toy. That's what she'd said. When pressed, she'd admitted that it had had brown fur. One of the children - Christine, she thought - had said that the eyes had been green. She'd also said that they'd seemed to look at you, as if they were alive, but then children say silly things like that.

They were questioning Nadienne now. She hadn't seen the man, or the teddy bear, and was somewhat irritated by the questions. When they came to the question about the lights she scowled.

'What do you mean, "unusual lights"? What sort of unusual lights?'

'Anything out of the ordinary. Lightning, maybe.'

'Don't be ridiculous! How could there be any lightning?

There has been no thunderstorm! It's a motor car you should be looking for, or a horse and carriage.'

Forrester shrugged. 'That's what the police will be doing.

We don't need to do it as well.'

Nadienne stared at her for a moment, seemed about to get up, then said, 'Wait a minute - there was that firework.'

Forrester and Cwej looked at each other, and Cwej scribbled something in his notebook.

'My father hired a coach and four this morning, to take us from Larochepot to Septangy - he said a bride shouldn't travel in a motor car, my dress would get dirty. Just as we came into town, the horses s.h.i.+ed. I didn't see anything, but the driver told me that a firework had frightened them.'

Forrester and Cwej exchanged another glance. Cwej began scribbling frantically. Forrester said simply, 'What time?'

'Ten minutes before we got to the church, I would guess.

Say ten to eleven.'

'And what did the "firework" look like?'

'I don't know. I wasn't looking out. I was - oh, you know, adjusting my veil, that sort of thing. And Papa was fussing.'

Amalie smiled, imagining the scene. But the two detectives remained deadpan. Forrester asked if the driver was around; Henri was called, and he in turn called Claude.

To no one's surprise the coachman was staying at the auberge - it was, after all, the only place there was to stay in Septangy. He was summoned from his room where he'd been taking an afternoon nap, and appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking irritated. He was still wearing the blue frock-coat and footman's breeches he had worn in the morning, but had dispensed with the top hat.

'American investigators?' he asked loudly. 'What do the Americans think we have done now? I thought they were on our side.'

Henri explained that it was nothing to do with the war, and the man was persuaded to sit down at the table with Cwej and Forrester.

'Yes, there was a firework,' he told them. 'The light was so bright it frightened the horses.'

'What colour was it?' asked Forrester.

Amalie frowned. They asked some very strange questions, these two. Why all this fuss about a firework anyway?

The coachman evidently thought so too. His voice was puzzled as he said, 'I don't know - every colour. It was only a sort of flash.'

'You didn't hear the explosion?'

The man shook his head.

Suddenly, Cwej leaned forward. 'Did you see anyone walking about afterwards? A tall man, with a top hat, for instance?'

Suddenly Amalie had it. This 'firework' wasn't a firework at all. It was something to do with the method that the stranger had used to take Gabrielle away. Perhaps he had hidden her with mirrors, she thought, the way magicians do.