‘Cassandra! Honey! Sweetheart!’ Murray Leibowitz said, his arms open in greeting.
Cassandra Cooper stopped dead as if she had seen a ghost. ‘Murray! What the hell are you doing here?’
The American laughed amiably. ‘It’s a free country, and I have just as much right to go to the mall as you do.’
‘Enjoy your shopping.’ Cassandra snapped and quickly turned away.
Within seconds Murray had caught up with her, an arm expansively around her shoulder. ‘Is that any way to talk to an old friend, a compadre, a partner in crime?’ He squeezed her shoulder, making Cassandra wince.
‘Go away Murray.’ She said quietly. ‘Or I will start screaming.’
Murray loosened his grip, but only a fraction. ‘I don’t think you should do that sweetheart. I know we’ve had our differences, but you’ve never been stupid enough to turn down a golden opportunity…’
Cassandra glanced sideways at the round beaming face. She shook her head. ‘Whatever it is Murray, I want no part of it.’
‘My, my Cassy baby. I apologise. Clearly, you have undertaken some kind of reformation. Shame, the Cass I knew and loved would never have let a little thing like a business disagreement get in the way of a deal?’
‘I can’t do anything about the charges Murray. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. The trial will start, and you will be sent to prison, I can’t help you with that, whatever you were thinking of offering me.’
Murray laughed as he took his arm away. ‘Aw shucks honey, people like me don’t go to jail. I have the best god damned lawyers in the country on my case. The most I’ll get is a slap on the wrist. No, what I want is the dream machine.’
Cassandra blinked. ‘You are joking! No really, you think even if I could get it, I would give the Daydream Believer to you!’
‘Now come, come Cassy. Who better than I has the expertise to market that baby properly? Word came to my ears that Cooper plans to destroy the thing. All that work, all that potential, all that money. Surely you can’t stand by and let all that lovely profit go to waste?’
‘Adam will talk him around.’ She said primly.
Murray snorted. ‘That hippy? Of course, I realise you bestow the guy with superhuman powers, but from what I hear Cooper has gone completely off the deep end. Some guff about the dream world being real…’ He watched her face for any kind of reaction. There was the barest twitch. ‘Don’t tell me you believe all that bunk? As Barnham used to say, there is one born every minute, and I never imagined, baby, that it would be you.’
Cassandra sniffed. ‘The police have the Believer anyway. There is no way I could get it.’
‘Ah. But your boyfriend could produce another one even if it was just a prototype. He made the thing before; he knows the spec off by heart.’ Murray wheedled.
‘I don’t think it’s like an omelette, you can’t whip it up out of nothing. Plus he promised Will that he wouldn’t.’ She added primly.
Murray snorted. ‘Like you would know anything about omelettes, sweetheart. Anyway, promises smomises. I bet a pretty girl could get him to change his mind? I bet a smart, pretty girl could get him to make one of those gizmos in the blink of her big blue eyes?’ The American grinned.
‘Oh, yes, I can see the conversation now. Adam could you make me a console so that I can give it to Leibowitz, the same man who tried to con you and get Will killed.’ Cassandra said sarcastically.
‘You would think of something.’ Murray coaxed. ‘After all, there would be a considerable share of the profits for anyone willing to help me. Enough money to start a new life away from the stigma of a crazy husband. And who knows, a certain dreadlocked young man might be willing to overlook a little dishonesty once the cash came rolling in?’
Cassandra arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘I’ll think about it.’ She said.
~~
Winkworth scuttled along the corridors in the ancient Committee halls. As people passed, they tried to avoid his eye. However, those not quick enough were forced to acknowledge his subservient bob with a quick nod of their own. Once safely in his own office, he closed the door quickly. If anyone had bothered to notice the assistant, other than to comment what a toadying little pedant he was, they may have considered how a creature so concerned with status would consent to such a small cramped office.
There were many rooms the Bogeyman could have taken which would have much better fitted his seemingly over-inflated opinion of himself, so why stay in this virtual cupboard. They could have surmised that this was indeed the natural way for a Bogeyman to live, that they thrived on a closet-like atmosphere, but never in their wildest fantasies could they ever have guessed the truth.
In this office, there were two additional doors, both, for all intents and purposes, held nothing behind them any more sinister than a broom or possibly some paperclips, but Winkworth kept them both firmly locked. Taking the large metal keys from his pocket, the Bogeyman unlocked one of the doors. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped inside.
The dark was almost solid. This did not concern Winkworth. He was a creature made for the night. As he began to descend the stone steps, the Bogeyman’s spine started to straighten. His head no longer sat at a timid angle, his stride no longer crept but relaxed into a purposeful gait. He needed no light to make his way down this staircase. He could manoeuvre the stairs with his eyes closed. As he reached the bottom step, he unlocked a second door and stepped into the Eyrie.
The cave stretched as far as the eye could see. Phosphorous mildew bathed the walls in low blue light. Winkworth placed his fingers to one nostril and blew a steady note through the other, a low whistle that soon had the desired effect. From somewhere high above, there came the sound of great wings beating slowly. As they approached, the beat seemed to increase, the pitch rose as if the creature were defying the laws of perspective and becoming smaller as it approached its master. By the time the Dragon had reached Winkworth, it was no larger than the size of an owl. It perched on his outstretched arm and immediately took the small piece of coal he offered as a reward.
The Dragon cooed as Winkworth scratched its head. ‘I have a little job for you, my pet.’ Winkworth said softly.
‘Oh no, you bleeding don’t John!’ Came a voice from somewhere inside the dragon. Winkworth rolled his eyes in annoyance. ‘Are you still in there?’
The voice waited a few seconds. ‘No, I’m not in here, sunshine. I have managed to extricate myself from this infernal bleeding creatures system, and I am at this precise moment lying on a lava beach enjoying the attention of a couple of boulder girls.’
‘No-one asked for you to get yourself eaten by this dragon, my favourite Dragon no less.’ Winkworth tickled the creatures chin to reinforce the point.
‘The question should be, why didn’t you teach the thing not to go around eating people John. Am I right, or am I right?’ The voice said.
‘My dear Rox. You were the one who decided to take revenge on this Dragon by dispersing yourself through its extensive nervous system. A marvellous talent you stone people posses. However I would say we have given you plenty of time to extract yourself, wouldn’t you?’ Winkworth said, tickling the Dragon again, who purred appreciatively.
Rox mumbled something.
‘What was that? I didn’t quite hear you?’ Winkworth said, theatrically cupping his ear with his hand.
‘I said I am having some trouble locating some rather important parts of myself, alright?’ Rox growled.
‘What important parts would they be?’ Winkworth asked in surprise.
‘Never you mind John. All I will say is with this bleeding thing getting bigger and smaller all the time I just about locate a part of myself when it goes shooting off around the houses again. Stone the crows it’s impossible, can’t you get the thing to stay in one scale?’ Rox said.
‘In one scale?’ Winkworth gave a short little laugh. ‘Very clever.’
‘Eh?’ Rox managed to convey complete confusion.
‘Never mind.’ Winkworth said. ‘It seems in your haste to make my Dragon unwell you seem to have done too thorough a job?’
‘When I does something I does it right, ok?’ Rox said.
‘Indeed, I suppose telling you to pull yourself together will not help?’ Winkworth chuckled.
‘You trying to be funny Treacle?’ Rox replied.
Winkworth sighed. ‘No, not really. But I do need this Dragon for a mission. A vital mission for Morphean intelligence.’
‘Use another one. This one is occupido.’ Rox grumbled.
‘Ah.’ Winkworth said. ‘For this mission, I need this particular animal. You may even be able to help.’
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