Markham was lurking in the gallery.
‘There you are,’ he said.
‘Why are you lurking?’
‘I’m waiting for you. I think I might be going mad.’
‘Why would there be any doubt?’
You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve just seen…’
‘A small dog fly past your window.’
‘Well, actually it was a cat, but thank God.’
‘Why?’
‘I thought I was becoming delusional.’
‘What do you mean, “becoming”?’
‘So I didn’t imagine it?’
‘No,’ I said wearily.
‘Seriously? Someone’s throwing dead cats around?’
I held up Colin. ‘Cats and dogs.’
He peered at me in puzzlement. ‘Why are you walking around with a dead dog?’
‘It’s the latest craze. For people who want a dog but don’t have the time to look after it properly. You get one of these instead.’ I flourished Colin. ‘You have all the benefits of a loving pet without it crapping on the kitchen floor and humping the furniture. Hunter wants one to replace you.’
He began to shuffle backwards. ‘Well, since you obviously have everything in hand…’
‘Well, since you’ve obviously just volunteered to assist me in my fact-finding assignment…’
He grinned and we set off to see what we could see.
Atherton and Sykes were running up the steps outside. Familiar pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
‘Oh, hello Max,’ said Sykes, cheerily. ‘And Mr Markham, too. You’ll never guess…’
‘Well, let me have a go. We’re in the middle of some dog-or cat-related catastrophe.’
She looked impressed. It never does any harm to remind my department of my omnipotence.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We were talking to Bashford and a dog dropped out of the sky and knocked him out cold.’
I held up Colin the Yorkie. ‘Like this one?’
‘Oh, poor thing. Is it dead?’
‘It’s just flown through the window and landed on Dr Bairstow’s briefing table, so for its own sake, I hope so. Lead me to Mr Bashford.’
‘This way,’ said Sykes and we trotted off around the corner to find Bashford, lying like a stunned starfish beneath what looked like some sort of terrier.
Another dachshund and two tabby cats lay nearby.
‘Oh my God,’ said Markham in delight. ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’
I ignored him because I’d wanted to say that.
‘Should we do something, do you think?’ said Sykes.
‘Well, yes, probably,’ said Markham.
They all looked at me.
I sighed and opened my com.
‘Doctor. Yes. Good afternoon. I wonder if you could spare us a moment. Mr Bashford appears to have been involved in some sort of canine-related accident … No … As far as I can see he appears to be stunned rather than bitten … OK.’
I closed my com. ‘On his way.’
He was with us almost immediately, accompanied by Nurse Hunter. Like us, they looked down at Bashford and then looked up at the sky.
‘Where did that scruffy mongrel come from?’
‘History Department,’ said Markham, falling about at his own wit.
We ignored him again.
‘I know I am going to regret asking this,’ said Dr Stone, ‘but what, why, and how could this happen?
‘It was easy,’ said Atherton. ‘One minute he was talking to us and the next minute a dog fell on his head.’
‘Let me be more specific. Why would a dog drop out of the sky onto Bashford?’
We looked at each other. ‘Who else would it fall on?’ said Markham, reasonably.
‘What?’
‘Well, isn’t it obvious? If a dog is going to drop out of the sky and Bashford is even in the same county, then it’s going to fall on him, isn’t it?’
‘But … why are dogs and cats falling out of the sky in the first place?’
Hunter rolled her eyes and began to examine both bodies for signs of life.
‘One dead,’ she reported. ‘One not dead.’
Dr Stone dragged his eyes away, scanned the small crowd gathering around, presumably looking for the most intelligent person present and astonishingly picked me.
‘Did the dog bite him and then die? Because I could believe that.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Did it fall on him and then die?
‘No, I think it was dead when it got here.’
Nurse Hunter poked the stiff corpse. ‘Yes, it’s been dead for some time.’
I began to feel she should be paying more attention to her current patient rather than the ex-dog.
‘Is he all right?’
‘God, no. Dead as a doornail.’
‘I meant Mr Bashford.’
‘Hard to say, really. Define all right.’
Dr Stone appeared to recall his medical responsibilities.
‘Nurse, we’ll get him inside and take a proper look.’ He trailed away and looked up at the sky again, mystified.
I, on the other hand, was looking for the missing component I knew would be around here somewhere.
And here she came. Miss Lingoss trotted around the corner, peering left and right, obviously looking for something. She stopped when she saw us, and attempted unobtrusively to ooze back the way she had come. Given that today’s hair was black and white, that she was wearing an enormous hooped purple dress of vaguely 17th-century European design, and was clutching what appeared to be a dead corgi under her arm, this seemed a fairly unrealistic ambition.
I beckoned her over.
‘Ah,’ she said, looking down at the two prone bodies. ‘There he is.’
It was unclear to which of them she was referring.
At our feet, Bashford stirred faintly.
‘He’s coming round,’ I said, prodding him gently with my foot. ‘Well done, doctor.’
‘I don’t think it was anything I did,’ he said. ‘I get the impression he’s done this sort of thing quite often. He’s probably got some sort of recovery routine that automatically kicks in as required.’
He bent over Bashford who had opened his eyes. ‘How are you feeling? Oh – no – sorry – old habits die hard. Let me try again. What the hell do you think you’re playing at, you moron?’
‘Much better,’ said Markham. ‘You’re really getting the hang of this, doc.’
‘Thank you.’ He regarded Bashford, now struggling to sit up. ‘Let’s get you back to Sick Bay, shall we?’
Bashford nodded fuzzily.
‘Do you know where you are?’
He nodded again, eyes rolling around like two marbles in a jar.
‘Do you know your name?’
Bashford squinted down at his name, stencilled on his top pocket. ‘Oh my God, I’m upside down.’
Dr Stone tried again. ‘Who’s the current Prime Minister?’
Silence.
‘Can you not remember or don’t you know?’
Bashford’s eyes travelled vaguely around, seeking inspiration.
‘Really? Not even the faintest idea?’
He shook his head. The doctor sighed. ‘Does anyone here have any conception of the world around them?’ He sat back on his heels. ‘Who’s the current PM? Anyone?’
There was a certain amount of foot shuffling.
‘Oh for heaven’s sake.’
‘This dog is stuffed,’ said Hunter, suddenly. ‘And so is this cat. Where did you get them?’
She stared at Lingoss, who stared monochromatically back again and said, ‘Job lot. Taxidermist selling up. Professor Rapson thought they might come in useful.’
‘They?’
‘Well, you know – he bought one or two things.’
‘Such as?’
‘Oh,’ she stared vaguely at the sky. ‘Um…’
Dr Stone began to repack his kit. ‘Never mind that now. To return to my original question. Why?’
‘Well,’ said Atherton, slowly, ‘and it’s only a guess, of course, but I’m thinking Fuchsprellen.’
‘Ah,’ said Sykes, enlightened. ‘Yes, of course.’
Mystery solved, she and Atherton began to move away.
‘No, you don’t,’ said Dr Stone. ‘No one goes anywhere until … What was that word again?’