"So we're off to get Miss Lucy out of clink then?" Archie said hopefully as he trotted along between the two women.
"We are not," Vastra said, "We are to find this mysterious Man From The Ministry, as you call him, and confront the situation head on."
"Shame," Archie muttered.
They hurried to the end of Paternoster Row and Vastra hailed a Hansom Cab with nothing but a flick of her hand. Just as they were about to step into it, a voice called out to them from a little further down the street. They turned to see a young man dressed in the uniform of a messenger dodging the human traffic of the pavement, a letter in his hand.
"Madame Vastra is it?"
"It is."
"Here you are then, Madame," the runner said. He waited while Vastra opened the letter and read the brief contents carefully, then held out his hand expectantly. Vastra dropped a few coins into his palm and he thanked her profusely.
"Blimey, that was generous of you," Archie said.
"It was?" Vastra appeared surprised, "In truth, Jenny usually handles such matters."
Archie merely rolled his eyes and looked down at the paper in Vastra's hands. Peri was awaiting an explanation also but Vastra encouraged them into the cab and paused as she instructed the driver and settled beside them.
After a few more moments, she said, "A missive from Professor Litefoot."
"Litefoot?" Peri thought for a moment, "I think the Doctor's mentioned him."
"And what does this Professor say then?" Archie asked.
"That he has been called in to explain himself and that, though he told them nothing of my personal involvement, I should be most careful in my further investigations."
"Sounds like a good guy."
Vastra studied Peri for a moment, deciphering the comment before saying, "Indeed he is."
The cab jogged down the Embankment before turning off into Horse Guards Avenue and on to Parliament Street. It deposited them outside one of the imposing, white stone buildings at the heart of the British establishment. Great Scotland Yard stood at the end of the street but this part was dominated by military buildings and most notably the Banqueting House.
"Wow," Peri said.
"Not bad, eh? Shame about the bugger's who work here," Archie grinned and danced away from Vastra lest she clip his ear.
"So how do we know this is the place?" Peri said.
Vastra raised her hand, still clutching Litefoot's letter, "The Professor was most particular in mentioning this building."
Vastra lead the way around the impressive building, taking in its newly applied Portland Stone facade, the interlocking Corinthian and Ionic columns and the upper frieze and festoons. It sang of the ostentation of England's earlier Monarchs and of the establishment that now controlled the British Empire.
They entered to find themselves in the double-height room at the hall's heart, their footsteps sounding loud around them. Initially it seemed that they were alone but a small, discrete door in the corner opened and a clerk hurried out to meet them. He was dwarfed by his surroundings and the vast opulence of the Ruben's created ceiling.
"I'm afraid this building isn't open to the public," the man said as he approached them.
He had a low, annoying voice that made Vastra's scales twitch but she ignored the sensation and offered her hand in greeting. The man merely stared at it.
"I wish to speak with the gentleman who was in charge of the events at the Eastcheap underground station," Vastra said in her most imperious tone.
The man blinked at her, "I have no idea to what you refer, Madame. I really must ask you to -"
He was cut off by a loud voice from the far side of the hall. Vastra thought the man lucky that this newcomer had saved him from her wrath but said nothing as she turned to study the imposing figure who strode towards them. He was heavily built and quite massive, a tall, portly frame that spoke of an unhealthy inactivity of body. The head above, though, spoke very differently; of a mind honed to the most dominant kind. His deep-set, steel grey eyes studied Vastra's party as he walked and she had no doubt that the man would make a formidable opponent in any mental challenge. Though not, she was happy to note, in any physical confrontation.
"Thank you, Giles, that will be all," he said in a deep, sonorous voice that wrapped around them in a vaguely disturbing way, "Run along and find me those papers, why don't you."
The clerk did as bidden and scurried away, glancing back at his master as he went. Vastra ignored his exit and kept her eyes fixed firmly on the newcomer. She felt Archie and Peri squaring up beside her and hoped that they would allow her to speak for them all. It would take a keen intellect to deal with this man and though she admired Archie's myriad skills immensely, he was not used to dealing with such people. Miss Peri Brown was quite another matter; Vastra did not know her and could not judge her abilities. Though she suspected that a man such as the Doctor would choose his companions very carefully indeed. At least, she hoped so.
"Madame Vastra, of course, I've been expecting you."
"I am flattered, Mr...?"
"Oh, let's not get too bogged down in formalities, shall we?"
"You surprise me, Sir, I would have thought you quite keenly aware of such things."
"And I would expect better than time wasting from the Great Detective herself," he said with a faint sneer on the sobriquet.
Vastra felt Archie tense beside her but, blessedly, he remained quiet. She herself had to clamp down on her flaring anger. The man was trying, as Jenny would say, to get a rise out of her and she would not succumb.
Rather, she said, "As you wish. Your office, perhaps?"
He gave a little laugh and shook his head, "I think not. Now then, you are here to accuse me of something, yes?"
"Not at all, I assure you. We are here only to gather information. I understand that you have an interest in the same cases as myself. You were at the Thames earlier in the year, were you not? During that terrible business?"
Vastra smiled beneath her veil as the man's sharp eyes twitched a little. He had thought himself unseen then. Perhaps he was a little too confident in his own judgements or perhaps a little too sure of his superiority to a mere woman. Or a mere non-human?
"You are correct, Madame."
"And your purpose here is to oversee the investigation of such things?" He said nothing and Vastra continued, "As, for instance, the events last evening at the future Eastcheap station?" Again nothing, though Vastra watched his reactions most carefully. She added casually, "You are in charge of the investigation and, dare I say it, the elimination of those events and entities that you might choose to describe as undesirable."
"It would not be my place to make such a judgement, Madame; I am a mere civil servant, here to do the bidding of my masters."
"Oh, I bet," Peri muttered.
The man glanced at her, "An American? How interesting. An American, a street urchin -"
"'Ere, mind it," Archie said.
"- and a," the man hesitated deliberately, "woman of murky origins, shall we say?"
"There is nothing murky about my origins, Sir," Vastra laughed aloud, "I am quite clearly aware of them. But we have taken up enough of your time. I thank you for your assistance, Sir."
The man appeared as surprised by the sudden end to the interview as Vastra's companions but he only inclined his head in acknowledgement and muttered a few polite words. Vastra turned on her heels and walked back to the door, Peri and Archie taking a few seconds to catch up with what was happening and then hurrying to follow her. They were some way down the street before they spoke.
"So what was all that about then?" Peri said.
"What the 'eck was that?" Archie said at the same moment.
Vastra strode on until they were on Horse Guards Avenue, heading back towards the Embankment.
"Master Archie, we are being followed I trust?" Vastra said.
Peri made to turn but Vastra's hand snapped out to her wrist and halted her movement. Archie broke off from them and hurried across the street to a well dressed gentleman who was walking in the opposite direction. Archie said something to the man who appeared quite scandalised and replied with an indignant expression and a few harsh words.
Archie doffed his hat in a formal gesture and skipped back across the road. A broad grin was plastered over his face as he rejoined the women.
"One bloke, up at the top of the avenue and maybe someone else on the other side."
"And that man?" Peri asked, indicating the gentleman with a hitch of her thumb.
Archie laughed, "Not interested in having his way with you at all. Not sure you're his type, so to speak."
Peri glared at him but said nothing as Vastra directed them left into Whitehall Gardens. She found a bench that could accommodate them all and settled herself at its centre. Peri sat at her side but Archie remained standing, his keen eyes darting around them but never settling on any particular point. Tall buildings stood behind, a thin shield of trees blocking a little of the London noise. The long strip of a park was dotted with statues and patches of denser foliage.
"Still two of them," Archie said after a moment, "One's waiting by the entrance, one's just walking by."
Sure enough, a man was strolling along the path towards them. A tall, gaunt man with hollow cheeks. He appeared quite unwell but there was a sharpness to his gaze that belied his apparent weakness. He spared them nary a glance as he passed the bench and walked on until he was almost out of sight at the turn of the long, wide path that cut through the gardens. There he stopped, propping himself against yet another statue and lighting a cigarette.
Vastra considered the situation. She required more information and she must ensure that Archie and Miss Brown were safe. Jenny too, she thought with a deep pain in her chest. She could not afford to have anything happen at their abode. As certain as Vastra was that the Tardis was secure, it was not enough to quell her fears for her companion.
"Miss Brown," Vastra said quietly, "please return to Paternoster Row and ensure the safety of Miss Flint."
"Me?"
"You indeed; you are familiar with the Tardis and quite able to lock and barricade a few doors and windows, I am sure."
"Wow, what an offer," Peri muttered but she added, "What about these two goons?"
"Allow Master Archie and I to deal with them. You can lead the gentleman over there," Vastra indicated the man who had passed them, "on something of a," Vastra considered the phrase, "merry dance, can you not Archie?"
"Reckon I can. Don't you worry, Madame, I'll keep the bugger away from Miss Flint."
"I have no doubt of that. And I thank you both. Now, Master Archie, if you would lead the gentleman astray, so to speak."
Archie touched the brim of his hat and hurried off towards the far side of the gardens. The man took a casual look at him, flicked his gaze up to his colleague and then turned to follow Archie. Vastra had been watching the other man for most of this manoeuvre and she was pleased to see that he came a little closer, walking further into the gardens to keep a weather eye on the women.
Vastra reached into her little-used purse and dropped a handful of coins and an oversized brass key into Peri's hands. Peri stared at the pile before turning to Vastra.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Remain here until you are certain that I have lead the other man away, then hurry to the Embankment and hail a Hansom Cab to return you to Paternoster Row. Secure the house in any manner you see fit, Miss Brown."
"You really think they'll be trouble?"
Vastra considered Peri's worried expression, "I trust not and, in truth, I intend to ensure it but there is always the possibility and I am putting my companion's life in your hands once more."
"No pressure then," Peri chuckled, then added in a serious tone, "Don't you worry Madame Vastra, I'll keep her safe."
"Of that I have no doubt but, pray, do one more thing for me?"
Peri listened carefully as Vastra spoke in a low, urgent tone. She smiled as her instructions became clear.
"Don't worry, Madame, I'm pretty sure she already knows."
Vastra gave a nod of acknowledgement but said no more. She rose in one fluid motion, walking the way they had come without looking back at Peri. She studied the man as she grew closer. He was as tall as his colleague but much stouter in build, a strong man used to violence, she assessed.
Vastra made sure to attract his attention and was gratified when he cast only a brief glance back at Peri before turning to follow her. Vastra walked in a slow, measured stride until she was close to the edge of the gardens and then suddenly ducked out of sight behind a screen of trees. She made just enough noise to ensure that the man could follow her, though not quite enough to entirely give away her position. In the process, she removed her veil and gloves, carefully settling them at the base of a particularly twisted little bush.
She regretted the cumbersome dress and the damage that this venture would surely do to the expensive material. Jenny would be furious, Vastra thought, and the familiar pang of fear struck her chest. She took a deep breath and focused on the movements of the approaching man. He too was attempting to be quiet but he was utterly failing; the apes had no aptitude for such things. Vastra settled herself down into a crouch, ready to spring at the man when he came clear of the trees and entered the small space that she now occupied.
Vastra would have liked a little more room to work but this would have to do and she would have to ensure that the man remained quiet during his interrogation. Unnecessarily loud screams could prove most unfortunate.
He came closer still and Vastra carefully moved to the side a little, anticipating his imminent arrival. A couple of the trees moved and shifted under his weight and then he stumbled through and found himself face to face with all of Vastra's rage. He attempted to turn and run but had barely decided on that action when Vastra's tongue lashed out at him, striking him on the side of his neck.
His legs gave out and he sank to the ground. Vastra's hands were at his throat before he could let out even a gasp of surprise. He was hefted clear of the dank soil, his useless legs dangling beneath him. His eyes bulged in horror, a single, bloody tear trickling down his cheek. Vastra shook him violently and hissed into his face.
"You will tell me what I wish to know," she said on the hiss.
And it was little more than five minutes later when a tall, imposing figure stepped carefully from the clump of trees close to the entrance to Whitehall Gardens. A quick glance left and right confirmed that no-one had been nearby and, hence, her unlikely exit had gone unwitnessed. She was dressed in a fine, if slightly dishevelled, dress, a long, heavy lace veil and was adjusting her newly-donned gloves as she stepped forth. She glanced around again, then left the gardens to hurry to the Embankment and hail a Hansom.
The Doctor stepped down from an almost identical cab a few minutes later and found himself staring up at an oddly shaped building with unfortunate architectural ticks. Protuberances stood out from the main in unnecessary places and the generally run-down air of the place only served to make it appear stranger still. No doubt this had been built as a fine house but somehow it and this entire part of London had rotted away. Now the building served as a dosshouse of sorts with artists garrets above.
Surely it would be removed from the map soon enough. As should much of the slum housing that blighted East London, thought the Doctor as he approached the entrance.
He made for the front door and hoped that it would be unlocked. It was and he pushed through, smiling at the predictably squeaking hinges. The Doctor's nose wrinkled as the stench of unkempt humans hit him. Combined with the air of decay that hung over the building itself and the apparent lack of sanitation in the place, it was almost overwhelming.
Yet he forged on, glancing only once at the note in his hand as he made his way to the unexpectedly fine staircase. He lumbered up to the fourth floor and never saw a soul, though he could hear the mixed chatter and cries of humanity from behind some of the doors that lined the long, dingy corridors branching off from each landing.
Eventually, the Doctor reached the far door of one such passageway. He suspected that it had been a pleasant green colour originally but now the paint had peeled away to expose rotting wood and the usual inhabitants thereof. What passed for the lock failed to resist even the slightest push and the Doctor stepped inside.