Free The Lunatic's Curse by F E Higgins Page B

to the gallows and none was likely ever to be released. To see such a finely dressed fellow as Tibor pass by the bars of their cells was an opportunity too good to miss. Tibor had already decided to discard his shoes when he returned home, but by the time he reached Hooper’s cell he was resigned to burning his entire outfit, even the brand new mauve foulard he had tied so jauntily around his neck before leaving.
    Some things were just beyond salvation.
    Under different circumstances he might have said the same about the ragged fellow who occupied the cell on the other side of the door. But this chap, he was worth a lot more than appearances
might suggest. He sat on a small bench against the far wall. He was in a wretched state, bruised and cut, without a tooth in his head. Tibor could tell this because the man was smiling and
laughing.
    ‘So, you say he was picked up last night?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Melvyn. ‘He was in the Nimble Finger Inn and apparently wouldn’t stop laughing. So a fight began and eventually there was such a ruckus that the constables
had to step in.’
    ‘Must have been quite bad, then,’ remarked Tibor. Usually the constables preferred to let the fights in that particular establishment reach a natural conclusion: death or flight.
‘Is it safe to go in?’
    ‘Oh, I believe so,’ said Melvyn. ‘After all, he was the victim. He has shown no violent tendencies at all.’
    Melvyn unlocked the door and Tibor stepped in. The man gave a great big smile. It was not a pleasant sight.
    ‘Would you be Dr Tibor Velhildegildus?’ he asked, and stood up and thrust out his hand.
    Tibor immediately put his own hands behind his back. ‘I am. And who might you be?’
    ‘My name is Hooper. Hooper Hopcroft.’
     
15
A Deadly Diagnosis
    ‘I hear you can cure madness,’ said Hooper.
    ‘Well, I do not wish to appear boastful,’ said Tibor, ‘but, yes, it is true that I have a very successful record in that department.’
    ‘Then I wish you to cure me. Or at least to declare me sane so I do not have to stay in prison or go to an asylum.’
    ‘An interesting proposition,’ said Tibor, ‘and one to which I will give my full consideration. But you must understand a cure does not come cheap. What means have you to pay for
this? Might I suggest this?’ Tibor held up the velvet pouch. The diamonds were not in it but Hooper wasn’t to know.
    ‘You’re welcome to it,’ said Hooper. ‘There’s plenty more where that came from. I can guarantee it.’
    Tibor could actually hear Melvyn rubbing his hands together behind him.
    ‘Excellent. Well, my good fellow, if you can direct me to these diamonds I am sure it will cover all costs. I will certify you sane and you will be free to wander the world as you wish. You
will have money and good clothes, which, as any man knows, are the true mark of sanity.’
    This instant diagnosis seemed to please Hooper immensely, though of course his expression rarely exhibited any other emotion. ‘You have a deal,’ said Hooper.
    ‘Excellent. And where are these diamonds to be found?’
    ‘I will draw you a map,’ said Hooper obligingly. ‘I have some cloth here.’ He pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket but in his haste he dropped it and Tibor, spotting
that it seemed to be a diagram of sorts, stooped to pick it up.
    ‘And what might this be?’ he asked, holding it up between the tips of his white-gloved (he was resigned to their burning too) finger and thumb.
    ‘Oh,’ said Hooper, ‘it’s a plan for a vessel, a Perambulating Submersible. My friend Ambrose Grammaticus designed it; I merely drew it. We were to make it so we could
escape.’
    Tibor’s ears pricked up. Grammaticus? The famous engineer? Wasn’t he the fellow planning to build a second bridge across the Foedus here in Urbs Umida? Not one of his better ideas,
thought Tibor. Why give the southsiders another way over?
    ‘I see,’ said Tibor slowly, and examined the diagram more carefully.