The past few weeks had changed Lapsewood. After a lifetime, and subsequently a deathtime, of treading the careful path of conformity, he had finally been set free. He had walked amongst the living as a ghost, acted upon his own initiative, been thrown into, then broken out of prison. He had even found his way into the Central Records Library without being caught. If ghosts had reflections his would have looked very different now as he walked purposefully along the corridor with the Marquis by his side. Moving around the Bureau as an escaped convict was surprisingly easy. With the exception of restricted areas, no one asked for their papers. Of course, it did help that no one knew they were missing.
They stopped in front of an entrance to the Paternoster Pipe.
‘Thank you,’ said Lapsewood, grasping the Marquis’ hand. ‘You have been a great help.’
‘Spoken with such finality,’ replied the Marquis.
‘The danger in which I must now put myself is for me alone and there will be no need for distractions. You can take the Pipe to the exit and find exile in the physical world.’
‘A very good speech and I will reluctantly agree to this parting,’ replied the Marquis. ‘But I will save my final oration for the moment we are reunited.’
Lapsewood smiled. ‘I must go to speak with Alice. It’s likely I’ll be rearrested.’
‘Then don’t do it,’ urged the Marquis. ‘Find another way.’
‘No, this is the only way,’ said Lapsewood. ‘If I’m the only one investigating the Black Rot, why did Alice get that list out of the CRL? No, something is going on.’
‘I can see you are determined to walk this path alone,’ said the Marquis. ‘So, with a heavy heart, I wish you good luck and goodbye.’
The two men shook hands then turned to Ether Dust slowly so that, for a moment, all that remained were two hands clasped together. Then they flew into the Paternoster Pipe and parted ways. The distaste Lapsewood had always felt for the Paternoster Pipe Network did not seem relevant any more. He no longer felt the need to pretend he was still alive. Walking the streets of London unseen by the crowds of living people had made him realise he shouldn’t be ashamed about being dead. The dead had as much of a role to play as the living. They had as much right to their existence. The physical world may have been home to the living, but it was the legacy of the dead.
Lapsewood materialised on the twenty-fifth floor and once more laid eyes on the unmatched beauty of Alice Biggins. She was sitting behind her desk, looking as beautiful as ever. She stared at him. He stared back. For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she uttered, ‘How can you be—’
He raised a finger to his lips, cutting her off mid-flow.
‘Is he in there?’ he asked, pointing to Penhaligan’s office door.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
He had forgotten how that voice made him feel, as though all his energy had been sucked out and replaced with a soft, sweet contented mush.
‘I saw that you were arrested. Have you been released?’ she asked.
‘Sort of,’ replied Lapsewood.
‘I didn’t like the idea of you being stuck down there,’ said Alice. ‘Is it as awful as they say?’
‘I’m here about the list,’ he replied.
‘The list?’
‘The London Tenancy List.’
‘Oh, that. Why do you care about that?’
‘Where is it now?’
‘He wanted it, didn’t he?’ She pointed to Colonel Penhaligan’s door.
‘How did you get hold of it so quickly?’
‘Quickly?’ exclaimed Alice. ‘It took me weeks to get that.’
‘Weeks? When did you take it out?’
‘I don’t know. A month ago?’ she replied. ‘I think he gave to Monsieur Vidocq.’
‘Vidocq?’
‘That’s right. The Prowler. French, nice moustache.’
‘Yes,’ replied Lapsewood irritably. ‘I remember him. Why would Penhaligan give the list to him?’
‘Don’t ask me. He doesn’t tell me anything. Oh, Lapsewood, it is nice to see you.’
‘You’ve . . . You’ve missed me?’ Lapsewood felt wrong-footed.
‘Oh yes. The way Mr Grunt dabbed his neck all the time made me feel awful queasy. But he’s gone now too, hasn’t he?’
‘Has he?’
‘Yes, the last time I saw him I told him about you being in the Vault. I haven’t seen him since.’
‘And what about Vidocq? Where is he now?’
‘Out in the physical world, I suppose. No idea where, though. You know what it’s like with Prowlers. Everything’s all so secretive, isn’t it?’
‘I’m going in to see him.’ Lapsewood looked at Penhaligan’s door. That door had filled him with so much dread before. Now, it was just one more obstacle.
‘You haven’t got an appointment. You know what he’s like about unscheduled interruptions.’
‘The time for appointments is over,’ said Lapsewood.