The Well of Lost Plots (Thursday Next 3)

'It all started with a pimple on my bum,' said the frog. 'Can I help you?'

I'm looking for Professor Plum.'

'You want JurisTech. This is Old Jokes. Try next door.'

I thanked him and knocked on the next door. I heard a very sing-song 'Come in!' and entered. Although I had expected to see a strange laboratory full of odd inventions, there was nothing of the sort – just a man dressed in a check suit sitting behind a desk, reading some papers. He reminded me of Uncle Mycroft – just a little more perky.

'Ah!' he said, looking up. 'Miss Next. Did you bring the hat with you?'

'Yes,' I replied, 'but how—?'

'Miss Havisham told me,' he said simply.

It seemed there weren't many people who didn't talk to Miss Havisham or who didn't have Miss Havisham talk to them.

I took out the battered Eject-O-Hat and placed it on the table. Plum picked up the broken activation handle, flicked a magnifying glass in front of his eye and stared at the frayed end minutely.15

'Oh!' I said. 'I'm getting it again!'

'What?'

'A crossed line on my footnoterphone!'

'I can get a trace if you want – here, put this galvanised bucket on your head.'

'Not for a minute or two,' I told him, 'I want to see how it all turns out.'

'As you wish.'

So as he examined the hat I listened to Sofya and Vera prattle on.

'Well,' he said finally, 'it looks as though it has chafed through. The Mk IV is an old design – I'm surprised to see it still in use.'

'So it was just a failure due to poor maintenance?' I asked, not without some relief.

'A failure that saved a life, yes.'

'What do you mean?' I asked, my relief short lived.

He showed me the hat. Inside an inspection cover were intricate wires and small flashing lights that looked impressive.

'Someone has wired the retextualising inhibitor to the ISBN code rectifiers. If the cord had been pulled, there would have been an overheat in the primary booster coils.'

'Overheat?' I asked. 'My head would have got hot?'

'More than hot. Enough energy would have been released to write about fourteen novels.'

'I'm an apprentice, Plum, tell me in simple terms.'

He looked at me seriously.

'There wouldn't be much left of the hat – or the person wearing it. It happens occasionally on the Mk IVs – it would have been seen as an accident. Good thing there was a broken cord.'

He whistled softly.

'Nifty piece of work, too. Someone who knew what they were doing.'

'That's very interesting,' I said slowly. 'Can you give me a list of people who might have been able to do this sort of work?'