Chapter 3
By the time the Doctor and Jamie reached the street were they had first arrived they found that the fire fighters had packed up and left. A little further off the Doctor noticed the young couple whom had been the victims of the fire. The Doctor was desperate to talk to them but there was a middle-aged man with a thick moustache with them who was clearly engaged in a deep conversation with the two young adults that the Doctor did not think now was the opportunity for him to question them.
Suddenly, the middle-aged man with the thick mustache glanced over at the Doctor and Jamie.
'I don't suppose you two young lads witnessed any of this?' he asked. The Doctor instantly feigned innocence, 'no,' he replied, 'me and my friend have just arrived. What's been happening?' 'I take it you haven't read the papers recently then?' the man asked. 'No,' the Doctor lied. 'Why?' 'Ah, just if you had then you'd be aware of the curse.' 'Curse, what curse?' 'The curse of the Crying Boy!' the man replied. 'You see, there's been a spate of fires recently, whole houses reduced to nothing more but ashes and rubble and in each of these homes the occupant owned a kitsch print of a painting entitled The Crying Boyand it's my belief that all these fires are more than a mere coincidence.' 'I see,' the Doctor pondered. 'Well, I dinnae,' Jamie sighed. 'I'll explain later,' the Doctor said, before turning to the middle-aged man and asking 'and who are you?' 'Clive Rochdale.' 'Clive Rochdale, what a brilliant name!' the Doctor beamed.
Although, Clive was slightly bemused by the young man's slightly eccentric behaviour he decided that the Doctor and Jamie were harmless enough and proceeded to offer his hand. The Doctor took the proffered hand shook it, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm. Jamie, for his part, was much more cautious in his manner. The strange feelings he had been having had returned and they seemed to be centred on the man before him.
'I'm a journalist for the local paper, The Rotherham News,' Clive suddenly explained. 'I've been following this story for a while, in fact, I was the first to break the story about the first victims, Ralf and Mary Butcher,' he said, proudly. 'Here, take my card.'
He produced two, small rectangular shaped business cards and handed one each to the Doctor and Jamie. 'My office number is on there,' he explained. 'Please, don't hesitate to give me a ring if you see or hear anything, lads.'
The Doctor examined the card and thanked him before guiding Jamie away down the street once more.
'Where now, Doctor?' Jamie asked when they were out of earshot. 'I dinnae like that man at all, much tae full of himsel'.' 'Yes, I agree. I think we need to find the people who were involved in the first fire!' 'Aye an' where dae we find them?' 'What do I look like, the Michelin Man?' the Doctor snapped. 'Eh…aye,' Jamie replied, uncertainly. The reference, of course, went completely over his head. 'Wait a minute…what?' 'Never mind,' the Doctor sighed. 'Come on; let's see if we can find these people. Now come on, think, where have we heard the names Ralf and Mary Butcher mentioned before?'
Suddenly he cried out with an almighty yell that caused Jamie to jump back slightly in shock. 'That's it, Jamie, the newspaper! They were mentioned in that article. Now then, where did we first see that newspaper? Of course: the café!' 'Oh no, Doctor, I'm no' going back there again!'
DWDWDW
By the time the Doctor and Jamie had reached the café it was midday and the lunchtime queue was already starting to build up. The Doctor hoped that this would give them an advantage to sneak in and grab the copy of the newspaper but, alas, this was not to be the case.
As soon as they set foot over the café threshold the owner instantly recognised them. 'You two again, eh, what does tha want this time?' 'Don't mind us. We've just come for a paper – a newspaper – this newspaper right here,' the Doctor said picking up the copy of the Rotherham Newshe had been reading earlier. 'Don't know what tha want that for it is days old an' I don't care so long as tha get lost and don't come back!' 'Charming,' the Doctor muttered, as he and Jamie made his way towards the door. 'Hey up!' the café owner suddenly called. 'I've just remembered you didn't pay earlier. Tha can pay now!' 'Pay, pay for what?' the Doctor asked, confused. 'For the gammon and chips your Scottish friend had earlier.' 'Yes of course, silly me. Jamie, give the man some money.' 'Me?' Jamie cried, incredulously. 'What for, Doctor I havane got any money.' 'Ah, right, good. No, no not good! Bad very, very bad!' the Doctor muttered. 'Jamie?' 'Aye, Doctor.' 'Run!'
Once more the sprinted off down the street with the sound of the café owners expletives ringing in their ears.