Tommo yanked Stacy back up and crooked his arm tight round her throat. 'Oh, yeah?'

'There are many people about these docks,' the Doctor reminded him calmly. 'Chances are someone's already calling the real police. Do you really want to draw attention to yourself?'

'Easy, mate,' she heard Chongy's cautioning voice behind her. 'They've got nothing on us. Nothing.'

'Oh, it's all conjecture, I agree,' smiled the Doctor. 'And the police would only hamper my investigations. So, please let my friend go. Perhaps we can reach an understanding.'

'All right,' agreed Chongy. 'Inside the cabin. We'll talk.'

'Away from any witnesses, huh?' gasped Stacy.

'We'll talk on my terms,' insisted the Doctor. 'Out here. I want you to show me what's in the van.'

'No way,' said Chongy flatly.

Tommo tightened his grip on Stacy's neck.

Scared and angry, Stacy stamped her foot down hard on Tommo's ankle. He cried out and she elbowed him in the ribs with enough force to send him staggering back just as the Doctor darted forwards and hit him in the solar plexus. He doubled up and collapsed on to the deck.

Rubbing her bruised neck, Stacy turned to see the Doctor leap over Tommo's fallen body and chase after Chongy. But the wiry man was quick on his feet, and she saw by the Doctor's agonised look back that he was worried about how she might fare if Jack recovered.

'I'm fine!' she yelled. 'Go! Go get him!'

But it was too late. Chongy was almost out of sight, disappearing past a small crowd dawdling on the dock.

'We blew it!' wailed Stacy.

Eighteen Splitting hairs The Doctor jogged back to Stacy and studied her neck.

'I'm fine,' she said hoa.r.s.ely, waving him away.

'That's lucky for you Tommo is it?' The Doctor had a look in his eyes as wild as his hair. 'Now, how do you know Daniel Basalt?' Tommo said nothing.

'Right. Hold his arms down, Stacy.'

Stacy did as she was told, knelt on each of the man's wrists. The Doctor sat on the man's chest and carefully took hold of one of the scant remaining hairs on his head. He plucked it out. Then another.

Tommo swore. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'I'm pulling out your hair,' said the Doctor calmly, selecting a particularly long one that the man must comb clear across his bald patch. He yanked it out, and held it up in front of Tommo. 'Sorry, but I'm going to keep pulling them until they've all gone or until you tell me how you know Daniel Basalt and exactly what he's paying you to do.'

Yank. Another hair. And another. Tommo shouted in anger.

The Doctor nodded encouragingly. 'He is is paving you. I take it?' paving you. I take it?'

'You're b.l.o.o.d.y crazy,' snarled Tommo as the Doctor plucked out yet another hair.

'How do we contact him?' Stacy asked. Gritting her teeth, she took a whole bunch of Tommo's greasy hairs in her hand and pulled them out. He grimaced and gasped in pain.

'It's psychologically more effective to take one at a time,' the Doctor chided.

'We don't have time for the subtle approach,' Stacy reminded him.

He nodded. 'And Tommo here doesn't have the hair to allow us to persevere with either method for very long.' He took hold of most of the horse's tail that flapped weakly over the man's pate and started playfully tugging. 'So...?'

'No!' Tommo moaned, like a big kid. 'Get off my hair!'

'Hurts, doesn't it?' said Stacy with feeling. 'So tell us what we want to know. How we can meet with Basalt.'

The Doctor pulled harder and Tommo finally broke.

'I've never even met him myself. He pays us to do jobs for him,' Tommo muttered, 'but only Chongy can get in touch with him. Not me and Jack.'

The Doctor tugged on the man's hair warningly. 'Sounds a bit convenient to me.'

'It's true!' Tommo insisted, wide-eyed. 'We just dump stuff for him, out at sea.'

'Stuff?'

'Coffins, like you said.'

'What's inside the coffins?' Stacy demanded.

'Chongy takes care of that. I don't know what we're dropping off and I don't want to know.' He shuddered and writhed against their combined grip. 'What do I care what's in those things? He pays well enough, that's all that matters.'

Stacy wriggled her knees against Tommo's wrists. 'How many have you taken care of for Basalt?'

'Seven? Eight?'

The Doctor pulled feverishly at the man's hair. 'When?'

'I don't know!' Tommo winced and fell limp. 'I can't remember the dates, and we don't keep records. He's paid us for eight trips. That was going to be the ninth.'

'I see.' The Doctor nodded, and rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out two crisp fifty-pound notes, rolled them up and poked them behind Tommo's ear. 'Thanks for the information.'

Tommo and Stacy both stared at him as if he were nuts.

He shrugged. 'When Basalt hears from Chongy what happened here, I doubt he'll be using you for any more late night dumping runs.' The Doctor smiled down on Tommo. 'Think of it as compensation.'

'A hundred quid?' Tommo said despondently.

'Goodness no!' The Doctor tutted at him. 'Half of that's for poor soggy Jack.'

Stacy shook her head disbelievingly. She could hear clomping footsteps getting louder. 'Speaking of whom...'

'Time to leave, I suppose.' The Doctor slapped Tommo's cheek affectionately. 'Goodbye. If I were you, I'd shave it all off anyway. And take an extended holiday somewhere far from here.'

'All right, let him go.' Jack, looking like the proverbial drowned rat, staggered along the length of the boat towards them.

Stacy and the Doctor rose as one. Jack looked furious, fists clenched. Trailing behind him was a small, ugly crowd clearly out for trouble. Stacy looked worriedly at the Doctor.

'Just the day for a bracing dip, wouldn't you say?' he said cheerily. And before Stacy could argue he had lifted her up and thrown her overboard.

She had just time to fill her lungs with air before she hit the grey murk of the water. Skin stinging with the impact she dived down and swum for as long as she could underwater before resurfacing to get her bearings beside a rusting red tugboat.

The Doctor was treading water beside her, an appalled look on his face. 'Gosh, it's no wonder Jack was so annoyed. It's freezing in here!'

Stacy nodded and hoped her smile was as cold as she felt. 'I'm empathising with him, Doctor. Really I am.'

With that she started kicking her legs and swimming for the sh.o.r.e, the shouts and yells of the angry men on the Prometheus mingling with the gulls' laughter high above.

Moving quickly in case Jack's lynch mob planned to pursue tbem further, or in case someone pa.s.sing by had decided to trouble the police, Stacy and the Doctor hot-footed it down the road from the dock. At least by swimming for it they'd saved themselves a ten-minute walk.

'So are you going to slip me a couple of thirties as compensation for throwing me in the drink?' Stacy growled, gasping for breath now as they kept up the pace.

'I would if thirty-pound notes were legal tender,' the Doctor a.s.sured her.

'Oh. They're not?' Stacy blushed. 'Your money's all way too confusing over here.'

'Hmm.' He pressed a slimy wet paper ball in her hand. 'Would you settle for a couple of twenties?'

Stacy tossed the gift over her shoulder. 'I'm not so cheap.'

The Doctor motioned for her to stop running, leaning forward on his legs while he got his breath back. He gestured ahead. 'Surprise. The van's gone.'

'Chongy, right?' panted Stacy. 'No van. No coffin. No evidence.' She swore. 'Can't we just get the police to collar those creeps on the boat and '

'The police are quite powerless to help in this situation,' the Doctor told her.

'Well then, we can keep watch on the Prometheus Prometheus! Wait till Basalt comes back to beat up on them for spilling their guts.'

'I don't think he'll risk coming back here. He doesn't know how much we know.'

Stacy gave a sullen laugh. 'Fat zero.'

'Like I say, Basalt doesn't know that.' The Doctor took her chin gently between the fingers and thumb of his left hand. 'Stacy, we'll find the answers you're after. I promise we will.' He smiled sadly, felt inside his waistcoat and produced a pocket watch. 'We have to, you see.' The silver casing peed water over him as he flipped it open. 'Goodness, me, is that the date? We have an urgent appointment.'

'We do?'

'We do. With this evening.' He looked at her searchingly. 'You had no plans for this afternoon did you?'

She shrugged, shook her head.

'I bet you wouldn't mind if you missed out on it all together, hmm? Come on, to the beach,' he said, jogging off once again. 'I have something to show you in my big blue beach hut.'

Her mind br.i.m.m.i.n.g with possibilities at once awful and exciting. Stacy set off after him.

Anji kept imagining she could hear the raucous engines of the TARDIS all day.

Wishful thinking.

It was now six o'clock in the evening. Guy hadn't risen till after midday, but once up and about he'd acted almost professionally normal, as if absolutely nothing at all had happened last night. Anji was reminded more profoundly than anything Fitz's video could've shown her just what a rotten actress she was.

And what a coward, too. She'd hidden away in her room, flicked through magazines, listened to the radio, watched TV, but was too antsy to settle with anything. At last she knocked on the door to her spare room, where Guy was languishing.

'Yeah?'

'Can I come in?'

'I'm decent.'

She opened the door. He was sat on the bed, holding his mobile.

'Yes, you are,' she said.

'Huh?'

'Decent. You're all right, Guy.' Anji sighed. 'Look I know I'm a walking cliche but... I'm sorry for last night.'

Guy looked down at his feet. 'Nothing to be sorry about. We were just a bit wrecked. Forget it.'

'It was ages ago. Since Dave... you know. But I guess seeing all this "loved one" stuff you're going through has brought a few feelings back to the surface.'

Guy nodded. 'Shame the Doctor hasn't got some magic lotion to fix that.'

'Fix what?'

Anji spun round in surprise, blushing. The Doctor was standing just behind her, peering curiously in at Guy through the open door. A woman stood behind him, late thirties, hands on hips, plenty of att.i.tude and straggly strawberry-blonde hair. Her grey eyes looked slightly wild.

'Hey,' she said, looking Anji up and down. 'I'm Stacy Phillips. You look centred. You're used to his TARDIS thing, right?'

'Right,' she answered, with a sympathetic smile. 'Anji Kapoor.' She held out a hand to the woman, which was firmly taken, then turned to the Doctor. 'You've been ages,' she said in a low voice. 'Everything OK now? Reality back on course?'

'So it seems. I'm just not sure what it's on course for,' the Doctor said quietly. 'Hi, Guy. Anyone tried to kill you lately?'

Guy considered. 'Only my boss again,' he said with studied nonchalance. 'Oh, and my mum, too.'

'What?' Stacy's face had softened in a moment, and Anji could see from the well-scored lines of concern there that this woman was a born carer, a listener. 'Guy, I'm Stacy. How'd you get caught up in all this?'

As Guy opened his mouth to speak and Stacy moved through to join him in the guest room, Anji pulled the Doctor out towards the kitchen. 'Where did you find her?'