‘It is Analogy, isn’t it?’ said Mьller.

‘It is. SpecOps 27 and you’re under arrest.’

Victor, Bowden and I had got Mьller as far as Interview Room 3 before Braxton and Schitt realised who we had captured. Victor had barely asked Mьller to confirm his name before the interview room door burst open. It was Schitt flanked by two SO-9 operatives. None of them looked like they had a sense of humour.

‘My prisoner, Analogy.’

‘My prisoner, Mr Schitt, I think,’ replied Victor firmly. ‘My collar, my jurisdiction; I am interviewing Dr Mьller about the Chuzzlewit theft.’

Jack Schitt looked at Commander Hicks, who was standing behind him. The commander sighed and cleared his throat.

‘I’m sorry to say this, Victor, but the Goliath Corporation and their representative have been granted jurisdiction over SO-27 and SO-9 in Swindon. Withholding material from Acting SpecOps Commander Schitt may result in criminal proceedings for concealment of vital information pertinent to an on-going inquiry. Do you understand what this means?’

‘It means Schitt does what he pleases,’ returned Victor.

‘Relinquish your prisoner, Victor. The Goliath Corporation takes precedence.’

Victor stared at him hotly, then pushed his way out of the interview room.

‘I’d like to stay,’ I requested.

‘No chance,’ said Schitt. ‘An SO-27 security clearance is not permissible.’

‘It’s as well, then,’ I replied, ‘that I still hold an SO-5 badge.’

Jack Schitt cursed but said nothing more. Bowden was ordered out and the two SO-9 operatives stood either side of the door; Schitt and Hicks sat down at the table behind which Mьller nonchalantly smoked a cigarette. I leaned against the wall and impassively watched the proceedings.

‘He’ll get me out, you know,’ Mьller said slowly as he smiled a rare smile.

‘I don’t think so,’ remarked Schitt. ‘Swindon SpecOps is currently surrounded by more SO-9 operatives and SWAT men than you can count in a month. Not even that madman Hades would try and get in here.’

The smile dropped from Mьller’s lips.

‘SO-9 is the finest antiterrorist squad on the planet,’ continued Schitt. ‘We’ll get him, you know. It’s only a question of when. And if you help us, things might not look so bad in court for you.’

Mьller wasn’t impressed.

‘If your SO-9 operatives are the best on the planet, how come it takes a seventy-five-year-old LiteraTec to arrest me?’

Jack Schitt couldn’t think of an answer to this. Mьller turned to me.

‘And if SO-9 are so shit hot, why does this young lady have the best luck cornering Hades?’

‘I got lucky,’ I replied, adding: ‘Why hasn’t Martin Chuzzlewit been killed? It’s not like Acheron to make idle threats.’

‘No indeed,’ replied Mьller. ‘No indeed.’

‘Answer the question, Mьller,’ said Schitt pointedly. ‘I can make things very uncomfortable for you.’

Mьller smiled at him.

‘Not half as uncomfortable as Acheron could. He lists slow murder, torture and flower arranging as his hobbies in Which Criminal.’

‘So you want to do some serious time?’ asked Hicks, who wasn’t going to be left out of the interview. ‘The way I see it you’re looking at quintuple life. Or you could walk free in a couple of minutes. What’s it to be?’

‘Do as you will, Officers. You’ll get nothing out of me. No matter what, Hades will get me out.’

Mьller folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. There was a pause. Schitt bent forward and switched off the tape recorder. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and draped it across the video camera in the corner of the interview room. Hicks and I looked at one another nervously. Mьller watched the proceedings but didn’t seem unduly alarmed.

‘Let’s try it again,’ said Schitt, pulling out his automatic and pointing it at Mьller’s shoulder. ‘Where is Hades?’

Mьller looked at him.

‘You can kill me now or Hades kills me later when he finds I’ve talked. I’m dead either way and your death is probably a great deal less painful than Acheron’s. I’ve seen him at work. You wouldn’t believe what he is capable of.’

‘I would,’ I said slowly.

Schitt released the safety on his automatic. ‘I’ll count to three.’

‘I can’t tell you—!’

‘One.’

‘He’d kill me.’

‘Two.’

I took my cue. ‘We can offer you protective custody.’

‘From him?’ demanded Mьller. ‘Are you completely nuts?’

‘Three!’

Mьller closed his eyes and started to shake. Schitt put the gun down. This wasn’t going to work. Suddenly, I had a thought.

‘He doesn’t have the manuscript any more, does he?’

Mьller opened an eye and looked at me. It was the sign I’d been looking for.

‘Mycroft destroyed it, didn’t he?’ I continued, reasoning as my uncle might have—and did.

‘Is that what happened?’ asked Jack Schitt. Mьller said nothing.

‘He’ll be wanting to find an alternative,’ observed Hicks.

‘There must be thousands of original manuscripts out there,’ murmured Schitt. ‘We can’t cover them all. Which one is he after?’

‘I can’t tell you,’ stuttered Mьller, his resolve beginning to leave him. ‘He’d kill me.’

‘He’ll kill you when he finds out you told us that Mycroft destroyed the Chuzzlewit manuscript,’ I responded evenly.

‘But I didn’t—!’

‘He’s not to know. We can protect you, Mьller, but we need to capture Hades. Where is he?’

Mьller looked at us one by one.

‘Protective custody?’ he stammered. ‘It’ll need a small army.’

‘I can supply that,’ asserted Schitt, using the truth with an economy for which he had become famous. ‘The Goliath Corporation is prepared to be generous in this matter.’

‘Okay… I’ll tell you.’

He looked at us all and wiped his brow, which had suddenly started to glisten.

‘Isn’t it a bit hot in here?’ he asked.

‘No,’ replied Schitt. ‘Where’s Hades?’

‘Well, he’s at… the…’

He suddenly stopped talking. His face contorted with fear as a violent spasm of pain hit his lower back and he cried out in agony.

‘Tell us quick!’ shouted Schitt, leaping to his feet and grabbing the stricken man’s lapels.

‘Pen-deryn—!’ he screamed. ‘He’s at—!’

‘Tell us more!’ roared Schitt. ‘There must be a thousand Penderyns.’

‘Guess!’ screamed Mьller. ‘G-weuess… ahhh!’

‘I’ll not play your games!’ yelled Schitt, shaking the man vigorously. ‘Tell me or I’ll kill you with my bare hands right now!’

But Mьller was now beyond rational thought or Schitt’s threats. He squirmed and fell to the floor, writhing in agony.

‘Medic!’ I screamed, dropping to the floor next to the convulsing Mьller, whose open mouth screamed a silent scream as his eyes rolled up into his head. The smell of scorched clothes reached my nostrils. I leaped back as a bright orange flame shot out of Mьller’s back. It ignited the rest of him and we all had to beat a hasty retreat as the intense heat reduced Mьller to ash in under ten minutes.

‘Damn!’ muttered Schitt when the acrid smoke had cleared. Mьller was a heap of cinders on the floor. There wouldn’t even be enough to identify him.

‘Hades,’ I murmured. ‘Some sort of built-in safety device. As soon as Mьller starts to blab… up he goes. Very neat.’

‘You sound as if you almost respect him, Miss Next,’ observed Schitt.

‘I can’t help it.’ I shrugged. ‘Like the shark, Acheron has evolved into the almost perfect predator. I’ve never hunted big game and never would, but I can understand the appeal. The first thing,’ I went on, ignoring the smoking pile of ash that had recently been Mьller, ‘is to treble the guards on any places where original manuscripts are held. After that we want to start looking at anywhere called Penderyn.’

‘I’ll get on to it,’ said Hicks, who had been looking for a reason to go for some time.