A Thursday Next Digital Collection: Novels 1-5 by Jasper Fforde Page B

good faces in that office. Your chief is Victor Analogy. Don’t be fooled by the gray hairs—he’s as sharp as a knife. The others are all A-one Ops. A bit shiny-arsed and a mite too smart for me, but there you go. Where am I taking you?”
    â€œThe Finis Hotel.”
    â€œFirst time in Swindon?”
    â€œSadly, no,” I replied. “It’s my hometown. I was in the regular force here until ’75. You?”
    â€œWelsh Border guard for ten years. I got into some darkness at Oswestry in ’79 and discovered I had a talent for this kind of shit. I trannied here from Oxford when the two depots merged. You’re looking at the only Staker south of Leeds. I run my own office but it’s mighty lonesome. If you know anyone handy with a mallet?—”
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t,” I replied, wondering why anyone would consciously wish to fight the supreme powers of darkness for a basic SpecOps salary, “but if I come across anyone, I’ll let you know. What happened to Chesney? He ran the department when I was here last.”
    A cloud crossed Spike’s usually bright features and he sighed deeply.
    â€œHe was a good friend but he fell into shadows. Became a servant of the dark one. I had to hunt him down myself. The spike ’n’ decap was the easy part. The tricky bit was having to tell his wife—she wasn’t exactly overjoyed.”
    â€œI guess I’d be a bit pissed off too.”
    â€œAnyway,” continued Spike, cheering up almost immediately, “you don’t have to tell me shit, but what is a good-looking SpecOps doing joining the Swindon Litera Tecs?”
    â€œI had a spot of bother in London.”
    â€œAh,” replied Spike knowingly.
    â€œI’m also looking for someone.”
    â€œWho?”
    I looked over at him and made an instant judgment call. If I could trust anyone, I could trust Spike.
    â€œHades.”
    â€œAcheron? Flatline, sister. The man’s toast. Crashed and burned at J-twelve on the four.”
    â€œSo we’re led to believe. If you hear anything?—”
    â€œNo problem, Thursday.”
    â€œAnd we can keep this between ourselves?”
    He smiled.
    â€œAfter staking, secrets is what I do best.”
    â€œHang on—”
    I had caught sight of a brightly colored sports car in a second-hand car lot on the other side of the road. Spike slowed down.
    â€œWhat’s up?”
    â€œI . . . er . . . need a car. Can you drop me over there?”
    Spike executed an illegal U-turn, causing the following car to brake violently and slew across the road. The driver started to hurl abuse until he saw that it was a SpecOps black and white, then wisely kept quiet and drove on. I retrieved my bag.
    â€œThanks for the lift. I’ll see you about.”
    â€œNot if I see you first!” said Spike. “I’ll see what I can dig up on your missing friend.”
    â€œI’d appreciate it. Thanks.”
    â€œGood-bye.”
    â€œSo long.”
    â€œCheerio,” said a timid-sounding voice from the back. We both turned and looked into the rear of the car. Mr. Meakle had changed back. A thin, rather pathetic-looking man was sitting in the back seat, completely naked and very muddy. His hands were clasped modestly over his genitals.
    â€œMr. Meakle! Welcome back!” said Spike, grinning broadly as he added in a scolding tone: “You didn’t take your tablets, did you?”
    Mr. Meakle shook his head miserably.
    I thanked Spike again. As he drove off I could see Mr. Meakle waving to me a bit stupidly through the rear window. Spike did another U-turn, causing a second car to brake hard, and was gone.
    I stared at the sports car on the front row of the lot under a banner marked BARGAIN . There could be no mistake. The car was definitely the one that had appeared before me in my hospital room. And I had been driving it. It was me who