Time Rovers 03 Madman's Dance Read Online Free Page A

behind her visitor. The cell felt empty now. She’d liked the nice woman. She looked at the paper and sounded out the letters. “Jacynda Lass...Lassiter.” The kind lady had given her a name. It might not be her real one, but she’d claim it anyway. She knew no other.
    “You will see she eats?” the woman asked as they walked along the lengthy corridor toward the entrance. On the left side were countless cells, each harboring a lost soul.
    “We’ve been tryin’, but she says she’s not hungry,” the attendant replied. “She says a lot of odd things. Thinks we make her sleep on straw ’stead of a bed. Says that there are two others in there with her and one of them’s tryin’ ta steal her boots. Says she’s been here for days. Only just came ta us last night.” Then he looked chagrined. “Course ya’d know that, bein’ family and all.”
    The woman nodded. “You will watch out for her, won’t you?” she asked.
    He thought for a moment and smiled. “I’ll take her to Mad Sammy. If she likes the little miss, she’ll watch over her. No one crosses Sammy.”
    A matching smile blossomed on the woman’s face. “That sounds like a very good idea.”
    ~••~••~••~
     
    By the time Alastair reached Pratchett’s Bookshop, it was nearly eleven. He entered through the back gate and made his way down the passage to Jacynda’s rented room, his pulse racing with uncertainty. When his knocking brought no response from within, his heart sank. Perhaps the owner of the building had seen her this morning. That’s all Alastair needed: confirmation she was still alive, somewhere. Better yet, he wanted to hear Jacynda’s tale in person, while thanking God for her survival.
    Mr. Pratchett looked up as he entered the shop, a welcoming smile in place. It seemed genuine.
    “May I be of service, sir?” he asked brightly. Then he stared at Alastair’s face. It was a common reaction. The fire had not left him in good shape.
    “I am Dr. Montrose and—”
    “Oh, very glad to meet you!” Pratchett bustled out from behind a sizable stack of books. He was all of five feet, though not rotund like some of that height, his eyes clear and radiating a zest for life. “Miss Lassiter has spoken of you in such glowing terms I feel I already know you,” he enthused.
    “How kind,” Alastair replied. “I knocked on her door, but she does not seem to be in.”
    “I haven’t seen her since yesterday. She does keep odd hours.”
    “Yes. May I leave my card so that you can let me know if she does not return? She wishes me to keep track of her things, you see. She is often required to…um…leave London at short notice.”
    “I already have your card, Doctor. Miss Lassiter gave it to me some time ago. I must say, she leads a very active life.”
    “Indeed she does.” Beyond your wildest imagination.
    “I’ve got a spare key for you. She said you should have it.”
    The man dug under the counter and produced the item. “Oh, I almost forgot. She ordered a book for you. It came in just last evening.” More excavating produced a tome. He set it on the counter like it was fine crystal. “It’s about forensic science. She said you were quite interested in that field.”
    “I most certainly am.” Alastair stepped forward. “ Post-Mortem Examinations: With Special Reference to Medico-Legal Practice.” He caressed the spine, deeply affected by the gesture. In the midst of all her difficulties, she had thought of him. This was his very first forensic text, a worthy start to what he hoped would become a personal library someday. Although being a doctor and a newly minted forensic pathologist didn’t pay that much, he could still have dreams.
    “She already paid for it,” Pratchett informed him. “I doubt she’ll mind you collecting it today. I’ll wrap it up, if you like.”
    Alastair nodded, still astonished at Jacynda’s generosity. Yet it was not the first time she’d been so thoughtful. In weeks past, she