Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(156)

Then came the one she’d been waiting for.

Morrisey went down like a girl. I expected better.

Copeland. “I knew you couldn’t resist the bait.” She triggered the watch so it would project the keyboard on the desk.

Morrisey for Rover One. That’s the deal appeared in the air above her watch.



We’ve got TEM. You have no leverage.

There was a long pause.

Help Guv burn TPB. It’s your only chance, she offered.

A longer silence. She began to wonder if she’d lost the connection.

When and where?

“I knew you’d bite.” She gave him the instructions.

Come alone or I’m gone, was the response.

Deal. She closed the link, then began to log into GuvNet. Ralph needed to send her a few supplies, including a spare interface.

“You can’t possibly believe he’s going to turn himself in,” Mr. Spider shouted inches away from her ear.

“Ouch! Easy on the eardrums, okay? I know he’s not turning himself in. I just need to slap a time band on his wrist and he’s in ’058.”

“You have to touch him to do that.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” she replied. “He’ll want to get close.”

“Why are you so sure?”

She eyed her delusion. “I’m the reason the plot failed. As bad as he wants Defoe, he craves payback.”

“Get Hopkins in on this,” Mr. Spider warned. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I never intended to.”





Chapter 21




Like a military commander, Cynda chose familiar territory for the final battleground: Mitre Square, a poorly lit area in the City of London, surrounded mostly by warehouses. The last time she’d been here was nearly five weeks earlier, the night Kate Eddowes died. The night Cynda had actually seen the Ripper. There was still a stain where the woman’s mutilated body had rested, despite someone’s efforts to clean it away. Cynda laid a rose in the middle of the dark patch, remembering Kate’s laughter.

It was fitting that it would end here.

She popped open her watch. Eleven thirty-two. The constable on duty had just left the square on his beat and would return in about thirteen minutes. If all went well, the site would be empty on his next pass. If it went wrong, the Blue Bottle might discover a corpse or two.

Their enemy had amassed an impressively murderous resume, torturing Chris Stone, even trying to kill Hopkins, his own partner. Copeland had shot Defoe and beaten Theo nearly to death. Then just to cap his achievements, he’d tried to implement the fiery annihilation of history.

“Ambitious fellow, isn’t he?” Mr. Spider commented from his usual perch. He peered into the gloom, his multiple eyes glowing. “If I were you, I’d hang him from a web, suck his bones dry.”

“Too much work.”

“Not for me,” he boasted.

“Yeah, but he can’t see you.”

“That’s definitely an obstacle,” he admitted.

Cynda fidgeted. “Where’s Hopkins? He should be here by now.” To calm her nerves, she began her preparations. Stripping off her coat, she tossed it next to the Gladstone. The telescoping metal baton went into the back waistband of her trousers and the time band into a pocket. The spare interface was in that pocket, as well. If she was mortally wounded, Copeland would remove it so her body wouldn’t automatically forward to 2058. As long as he didn’t know about the backup interface, her plan might work.



Another check insured the e-skin patch was still attached to her left forearm. If Copeland proved true to form, she’d need that medication to counteract the effects of the Neural-blocker. She set the patch for Hopkins on top of her coat.

Mr. Spider crawled down her arm to read the information on the outside of the patch. “Did you see these side effects? Euphoria, hyperventilation, auditory and visual hallucinations. That’s just the short list,” he reported.

“None of them are as ugly as being dead,” she said, straightening up. “Hopkins? Where are you?” she grumbled. “We’re about out of time, guy.”

“Maybe he didn’t get the message,” Mr. Spider suggested.

“I sent it a half hour ago. Guv should have delivered it.”

Silence from her shoulder.

“Hopkins wouldn’t hang me out to dry,” she insisted. “He’s come through every time.”

“Hopkins did. How about Klein?”

“Don’t start with me.” She flipped open her interface and gave it a test wind. It lit up. Accessing the messages showed the one she’d sent earlier in the evening, but still no reply.

Spirals of light began to appear in the square, the visual precursor to a transfer. She looked away so they wouldn’t blind her. It had to be Copeland. She’d told Hopkins to arrive by foot.

“What are you going to do?” her delusion pressed. “Run or tough it out?”

Her mind told her to run for it. Copeland was too nasty for her to confront alone. Running away would give her and Theo a chance together.

“For how long?” she heard from her shoulder.

She saw the future with startling clarity.

“Copeland won’t quit,” she said. “He’ll come after me. He’ll go after Theo. He’ll keep killing until he finds Defoe for his masters.”