Doctor Who: The Reign of Terror (12 page)

The gaoler's bloated face puffed into a
broad grin as he congratulated himself on pacifying the important
official. He pulled up a chair for his distinguished visitor. 'A
little cognac, Citizen?' he inquired.

'No, thank you,' said the Doctor,
sitting down.

But the gaoler picked up a mug, wiped
it out with his elbow and set it in front of the Doctor. Then he took
out the bottle and poured him a generous measure. 'Citizen, I would
deem it a privilege if I could be of help,' he said, plonking himself
in the other chair.

The Doctor bowed his head in
acknowledgement. 'It is a simple matter,' he explained. 'Three
traitors were arrested in my province and brought here - a young man,
a young woman and a girl. I wish to interrogate them.'

The gaoler's smug grin instantly
evaporated. He stopped with the bottle half-way to his lips. 'The two
women were dispatched to the guillotine yesterday, Citizen,' he said.

The Doctor quickly turned away his head
so that the ruffian would not see his devastated reaction.

There was an ominous pause. The the
gaoler cleared his throat. 'Unfortunately ... there was a rescue,
Citizen,' he finally confessed.

The Doctor turned sharply. 'Rescue? By
whom?'

The gaoler took a couple of fortifying
swigs of cognac. 'We don't know yet. It's happened a lot recently.
You realise I'm not to blame, Citizen,' he added nervously. 'Once the
prisoners leave the Conciergerie they're outside my jurisdiction.

The Doctor waved his hand impatiently.
'Yes, yes, of course, of course ... But what about the young man?'

The gaoler squirmed uncomfortably. 'The
young man, Citizen?' he stalled.

'Come on, out with it!' snapped the
Doctor.

'He escaped too, Citizen.' The unhappy
gaoler pointed to his bandaged head. 'He was a dangerous fanatic. He
almost killed me. I fought with him. I was ready to sacrifice my life
to prevent his escape ... But he fought like ten men ... '

The Doctor rose gravely to his feet. 'I
believe you, Citizen. You did all you could,' he said. 'It would
never have happened were you not surrounded by incompetent fools.'

The gaoler staggered to his feet
nodding vehemently.

The Doctor paced to and fro. 'So, the
three of them are at liberty, somewhere in Paris ... ' he mused.

The gaoler sidled unsteadily over to
him. 'They'll be caught Citizen, rest assured,' he promised.

'What? Oh yes. Thank you, Citizen,'
said the Doctor absently, picking up his stick and his papers from
the table and turning to depart. 'I shall take up no more of your
time.'

As he did so, a tall figure stepped out
of the narrow passage leading off the alcove. It was Lemaitre. The
Doctor hesitated, staring at the imposing figure, uncertain what to
do.

The gaoler scuttled over to Lemaitre.
'Citizen Lemaitre, the Citizen here has been inquiring ... '

Lemaitre waved him away. 'I heard what
was said,' he snapped, gazing intently at the Doctor as though trying
to fathom the true purpose behind the stranger's inscrutable grey
eyes. 'Your papers, Citizen!' he demanded.

The Doctor handed over his documents
and Lemaitre flicked open the folded papers as if he were swatting a
fly.

'The Citizen is a Provincial ... '

I can read, thank you, gaoler,'
Lemaitre retorted caustically, scanning the documents impassively. He
handed them back to the Doctor. 'Where you you going now, Citizen?'
he demanded.

The Doctor smiled unflinchingly. 'Back
home, Citizen.'

Lemaitre smiled back and they stood
face to face in silence for a moment. 'It is rather late. Perhaps you
should postpone your journey until tomorrow,' he suggested.

The Doctor hesitated and then shrugged.
'Why yes, I suppose I could,' he agreed.

'You see, I shall be taking the
execution reports to the First Deputy,' Lemaitre went on. 'By a happy
coincidence your province is to be discussed. Your presence would be
a great advantage ... You would be on hand to answer any queries
that may arise.'

The Doctor was trapped. He had no
choice but to agree. 'What a good idea,' he smiled.

I promise you will find it most
interesting,' Lemaitre said, taking the Doctor's elbow. 'Come,
Citizen, we must not keep First Deputy Robespierre waiting, must we!'

Resigning himself to the inevitable,
the Doctor allowed Lemaitre to lead him away, his mind a turmoil of
anxiety about the fate of Susan and their two
friends and about what kind of bluff he would manage in front of the
Tyrant of France himself.

Not long after Lemaitre and the Doctor
had left the Conciergerie, another visitor hammered at the prison
gates demanding to be admitted on important business. Eventually he
was let in and taken to the alcove in the vault, where the gaoler was
slumped over his bottle of cognac. There he asked to see the
Provincial Officer.

'He's not here,' the gaoler retorted in
a surly tone. 'He's gone to visit Robespierre with Citizen Lemaitre.
Anyway, what's it all about?'

The visitor held up something in his
fingers.

The gaoler peered shortsightedly at the
gleaming object. 'What is it?' he growled.

The visitor grinned slyly. 'Evidence,
Citizen Gaoler. Evidence against a traitor.'

The visitor was the tailor. He was
holding up the Doctor's ring and his beady eyes were glittering with
venomous spite.

Maximilien Marie Robespierre, First
Deputy of the Convention, had just returned from a violent and
terrifying meeting at the Jacobin Club where he had made a two hour
speech demanding a purge of the Committee of Public Safety. His
speech was a repeat of the one he had made the previous afternoon in
the Convention itself - the governing assembly of the Revolution.
Utterly exhausted, he slumped at his desk shuffling papers and
staring wildly around as if he suspected assassins in every shadow.

He was a small, thin man of thirty-two.
His hair was carefully brushed back and powdered, but his complexion
was pasty and pock-marked. His skin had a sickly greenish tinge and
his shortsighted eyes were also green. A nervous tic frequently
convulsed the side of his face, drawing the corner of his thin-lipped
mouth up towards his ear. He dressed with fastidious care, wearing a
blue nankeen tailcoat, striped blue waistcoat, a red and white
striped cravat, and white silk breeches and stockings. On his tiny
feet he wore high-heeled buckled shoes in a vain attempt to increase
his meagre stature. To many he looked more like a survivor from the
court of the executed King Louis XVI than the most feared and radical
revolutionary: the Tyrant of France.

He looked up sharply as Lemaitre
ushered the Doctor into his ornate high-ceilinged chamber.

Lemaitre presented to him the execution
lists from the Conciergerie and the other prisons. 'Here is the
complete and detailed schedule of recent executions, Citizen,' he
said respectfully.

Robespierre gave the papers a cursory
glance and then screwed up his eyes at the Doctor. 'Who is this?' he
inquired in his weak voice, his face twitching.

Lemaitre motioned the Doctor forward.
'A visiting Provincial Deputy from Pontoise,' he explained. 'As the
region is to be discussed, I thought the Citizen should make his
report to you personally.'

Robespierre blinked coldly at the
Doctor. 'There are more vital matters to consider,' he whined.
'However I am always prepared to receive news of the provinces.' He
gestured to the Doctor to take a seat in the chipped gilt chair
opposite him.

Lemaitre remained standing behind the
chair.

'I welcome the opportunity,' the Doctor
said with a slight bow. 'But before I report on Pontoise, perhaps the
First Deputy would care to hear my impressions of the capital
itself?'

Robespierre raised his thin eyebrows in
surprise. 'When did you arrive in Paris?'

'Early yesterday.'

Robespierre waggled his waxen fingers.
'Hardly sufficient time for you to assess the present mood of the
capital!' he objected.

The Doctor shrugged. 'I wouldn't say
that. I have the distinct impression that the mood in Paris has
turned violently against ... '

Robespierre rapped the desk with his
knuckles. 'I am interested only in your report on your province,
Citizen!' he snapped. 'Now, recent intelligence suggests that the
purging of our enemies there has been progressing extremely slowly.'

The Doctor looked very surprised.
'Indeed, Citizen?' he retorted. 'Well, perhaps that is because we
have fewer enemies of the Revolution in Pontoise.' He grinned
complacently. 'Perhaps Paris can learn something from us simple
country folk.'

Behind him, Lemaitre breathed in
sharply as though warning him to take care.

Robespierre sprang out of his chair and
walked rapidly around the room. 'We in Paris are perfectly well aware
of the dangers,' he proclaimed. 'We live in troubled times. There is much work to be done. Work that is
constantly delayed by the need to ferret out the traitors we harbour
in our midst.'

The Doctor bristled visibly at the
tyrant's claim. 'Is there really such a need?' he argued. 'What can
your Reign of Terror possibly accomplish? Traitors are like weeds.
For every one you guillotine two more will spring up again.'

Lemaitre bent forward and spoke quietly
into the Doctor's ear. 'I think you have said quite enough, Citizen,'
he warned.

'Oh, you do, do you?' cried the Doctor,
thoroughly aroused.

Robespierre clapped his hands. 'Let him
speak. What he says is true. My enemies do multiply. He is only
reminding me of the dangers I face - even in the Convention and the
Committee of Public Safety.'

Lemaitre bowed and stepped back a pace
as Robespierre stopped in front of the Doctor.

'I shall achieve great things for
France,' Robespierre declared grandly. 'For too long the Monarchy and
Church and the Nobility kept the People under their thumbs. Now the
way forward is clear ... But what happens? My colleagues, my most
trusted friends resent me and plot for power behind my back.'

The Doctor could not resist rising to
the argument. His eyes gleamed and his voice rang out
authoritatively. 'Do they?' he wondered. 'Or do they perhaps merely
desire to keep their heads?'

Unaccustomed to such confrontrations,
Robespierre stared silently at the Doctor for a while and then
abruptly resumed his furious pacing. 'Danton plotted to restore the
Monarchy ... ' he raged, his greenish eyes ablaze with malevolent
fanaticism. 'I had to remove him. And the Girondins ... And even as
we speak I know that Convention members are plotting my downfall. But
I shall triumph, even if I have to execute every single one of them.'
Robespierre's voice rose almost to a shriek. 'Death ... Always
death ... Do you think I want this carnage to go on and on?' He
snatched up several documents from the desk and thrust them at the
startled Doctor. 'Three hundred and forty-two executions in nine days
in Paris alone . . . ' he cried almost hysterically. He went over
to the shuttered window and peered through a narrow crack into the
darkness. Then he returned to sit at the desk, burying his head in
his hands in despair. 'What a legacy I shall leave behind me if this
slaughter has to continue ... ' he groaned almost inaudibly.

The Doctor opened his mouth to pursue
the debate, but Lemaitre's hand on his shoulder silenced him. He
replaced the documents on the desk and followed Lemaitre to the door
in silence.

Robespierre looked up. 'You must come
and see me again, Citizen,' he suggested wearily. 'We never did
discuss the situation in Pontoise, did we?'

The Doctor turned in the doorway. 'What
a pity, no ... ' he replied, catching a look from Lemaitre that told
him the fellow realised he had sidetracked the matter of the province
and its affairs deliberately. 'I was quite looking forward to it,' he
lied, flashing Lemaitre a winning smile.

'Bring him with you tomorrow,
Lemaitre,' Robespierre instructed, bending over his papers.

The Doctor's smile instantly vanished.

'Of course, Citizen Robespierre,'
Lemaitre replied. It was his turn to smile at the Doctor. 'Until
tomorrow then ... '

Huddled in a blanket despite the hot,
close night, Susan sat in an armchair shivering as if she had a
fever. Barbara was kneeling anxiously beside her holding her hands,
while Leon Colbert stood with his back to the empty fireplace with an
enigmatic smile on his face, fascinated by the two puzzling guests.

Danielle brought in a glass of brandy.
'Here, Susan, this will make you relax,' she said kindly.

Susan stared suspiciously at the glass.
'What is it?'

'Just drink it all up,' Danielle
encouraged her.

Susan glanced warily at Barbara, who
nodded reassuringly. She drained the glass and coughed as the raw
spirits scorched her throat.

'I should like some more wine,' said
Leon.

Danielle pointed to the tray on the
dining table without looking at him.

Colbert smiled. 'Why, thank you,
Danielle,' he said with mock politeness.

Jules's sister turned to Barbara. 'I
think I shall return to bed now, if you will both excuse me,' she
said quietly.

Barbara nodded. 'Thank you, Danielle.
I'm sorry we disturbed you.'

Danielle glanced momentarily at
Colbert's challenging smile then tossed her head contemptuously and
hurried out.

Leon shrugged and helped himself to
more wine. 'One cannot be friends with everyone,' he sighed
languidly.

Barbara tucked the blanket more
securely round Susan. 'Try to get some sleep,' she advised. 'I'll be
here if you need me.' Susan closed her eyes and let the brandy lull
her into a doze.

Barbara moved across to the fireplace.
'I wish I knew what was wrong, Leon. She could have caught something
quite serious in that dungeon.'