The Well of Lost Plots (Thursday Next 3)

31

Tables turned

* * *

'Insider trading: Slang term for Internal Narrative Manipulation. Illegal since 1932 and contrary to Item B17(g) of the Narrative Continuity Code, this self-engineered plot fluctuation is so widespread within the BookWorld that it has to be dealt with on a discretionary basis to enable it to be enforced at all. Small manipulations such as dialogue violations are generally ignored, but larger unlicensed plot adjustments are aggressively investigated. The most publicised flaunting of these rules was by Heathcliff when he burned down Wuthering Heights. Fined and sentenced to 150 hours' community service within Green Eggs and Ham, Heathcliff was just one of many high-profile cases that Jurisfiction were prosecuting at that time '

UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)

Heep grasped me painfully by the arm and twisted it around, pushing me into a bookcase as he did so.

'I be ever so humbly sorry about this, Miss Next,' he whined, the mispeling having gone deeper than his skin and rotted his very soul. 'Imagine me, an A-7 arresting a pretty Outlander such as yourself!'

His breath smelt rotten; I breathed through my mouth to avoid gagging. He reached for my TravelBook and took the opportunity to slide his hand across my breast; I struggled harder – but to no avail.

'That head's not mine!' I shouted, realising how stupid it sounded straight away.

'That is one thing we are certain of,' replied Tweed quietly. 'Why did you kill him?'

'I didn't. It's Snell's,' I said somewhat uselessly. 'He bought it for use in his next book and asked me to keep it for him.'

'Snell insider-trading? Any other ills you'd like to heap on the dead? I don't think that's very likely – and how did it turn out to be Godot's? Coincidence?'

'I'm being framed,' I replied. 'UltraWord™ is—'

I stopped. I had been told many times by my SpecOps instructors that the biggest mistake anyone can make in a high-stress situation is to act too fast and say too much before thinking. I needed time – a commodity that was fast becoming a rarity.

'We have evidence of her involvement in at least three other murders, Mr Bellman,' said Tweed.

The Bellman turned abruptly to face him as I was relieved of my TravelBook and handcuffed to three anvils to stop me jumping out.

'Havisham?' he asked with a tremor in his voice.

'We believe so,' replied Tweed.

'They're fooling you, Mr Bellman, sir,' I said, trying to sound as normal as I could. 'Something is rotten in the state of the BookWorld.'

'That something is you, Next,' spat Tweed. 'Four Jurisfiction agents dead in the line of duty – and Deane nowhere to be found. I can't believe it – you'd kill your own mentor?'

'Steady, Tweed,' said the Bellman, drawing up a chair and looking at me sadly. 'Havisham vouched for her and that counts for something.'

'Then let me educate you, Mr Bellman,' said Tweed, sitting on the corner of a table. 'I've been making a few enquiries. Even discounting Godot, there is more than enough evidence of Next's perfidy.'

'Evidence?' I scoffed. 'Such as what?'

'Does the code word sapphire mean anything to you?'

'Of course.'

'Only eight Jurisfiction agents had access to The Sword of the Zenobians,' said Tweed, 'and four of them are dead.'

'It's hardly a smoking gun, now, is it?'

'Not on its own,' replied Tweed carefully, 'but when we add other facts it starts to make sense. Bradshaw and Havisham eject from Zenobians leaving you alone with Snell – they arrive a few minutes later and he is mortally mispeled. Very neat, very clever.'

'Why?' I asked. 'Why would I kill Miss Havisham? Why would I want to kill any of these people?'

'You killed Havisham because she knew you cheated at your Jurisfiction multiple choice exam. Do you know how we know?'