The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3201 by Angharad Copyright© 2017 Angharad

There was a melee of people standing around in bewilderment as the young woman shrieked and fell on the floor. I tried to catch her as she went but to no avail. I looked at my right hand, apart from a bit of a mess from whatever was on the glove, it was fine. I managed to get a technician to fetch me a specimen pot and something like a spatula to scrape the gunge off. She rushed back to me and between us we got a small specimen of the dark coloured substance.

The woman was helped to a sitting position and I asked someone to from security to get the police but not to touch the glove as it may contain poison. I then pulled the glove off her hand—she was still looking shocked—and we bagged it and then placed it in sharps box for safe keeping for the police to analyse. The little pot of the stuff from my hand went into my pocket for our chemistry department to look at.

I rushed off and washed my hands several times and dried them. They looked and felt perfectly normal. By the time I got back to my assailant, the crowds had thinned. I wanted to know who she was and why she’d tried to hurt or kill me. She was sitting on a chair someone had brought for her and she looked unnaturally pale. I stood in front of her.

“What’s your name?” I asked firmly.

“The angel, keep her away from me,” she ranted and fell off the chair in her haste to escape.

Diane arrived. “Police are on their way, the detective chap from earlier. What happened?”

“I think she attempted to attack me with a contact poison.”

“A what?”

“A poison that’s absorbed by the skin—the North Korean blokey’s half brother was killed earlier this year with one some women put on his face.”

“Oh god yes, I remember now. Are you all right?”

“Me, I’m fine—not so sure about her—she looks decidedly peaky. See if you can find out who she is, I'll watch out in case any of her friends are about.”

“Has she got any of the poison stuff on her now?”

“It was on a glove which we’ve secured for the police forensic people. I think she’s safe to talk with.”

“Perhaps she’d had ingested some of the poison because she just ranted about the angel—the angel who protected the infidel.”

“You see any angels?” Diane asked me.

“Apart from you—nah.”

“Okay, what is going on?” said the detective inspector from earlier on. “Lady Cameron—should have known you’d be involved.”

I explained what had happened and he looked at our assailant who looked to be about twenty years old. She was still babbling on about angels. I handed him the sharps box.

“Is this safe?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well, it’s all right for you, I’ve got two kids and a wife to support.”

“I have a few more than that, but yes it’s safe. I’d get it analysed if you can and make sure she hasn’t had any contact with it.”

“You think it’s something like Sarin.”

“Could be Marmite for all I know.”

“Why is that poisonous?”

“Some of us think so—but officially no.”

“No wonder my wife’s always trying to get me to eat it, can’t stand the smell.”

He attempted to arrest the young woman but she was clearly in no position to take on board what he was saying in reading her, her rights. A WPC took her by the arm and she walked drunkenly alongside the policewoman out to the car.

“Is she going to be all right?” asked Diane as the crowd had dwindled to just staff.

“I have no idea.”

“She tried to kill you, didn’t she?”

“I think so.”

“So how come you’re still here?”

“I couldn’t go until the police had taken her into custody.”

“No, you nutty professor, how come you’re still alive?”

“She wasn’t much of an assassin.”

“How can you be so calm about things?”

“Better ones than her have tried to kill me and failed.”

“I forgot, you’re bloody wonder woman.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” I threw back at her.

“I work here, remember, the only one in our department who does.”

“Remind me to sack you tomorrow then if you’re setting others a bad example.”

“Actually, I came to hear this woman talk about Charles Darwin—she was very good.”

“I must have missed that bit,” I said.

“Funny, you look quite a bit like her except in one respect.”

“Which is?”

“She knew what she was talking about—see you tomorrow.” She trotted off towards the car park.

“Whit happened?” asked Tom.

I told him what I thought had happened.

“Sae whit’s this aboot an angel?”

“No idea, how come you can talk perfect English to complete strangers but lapse into Lallans with family?”

“It’s an ert ferm,” he replied smiling. “If ye telt me thae truth aboot thae angel, I micht jest...”

“A likely story, I’m going home.”

“Aye jest remember ye’ve tae gang tae thae polis, tae gi’ a statement, in thae morn.”

“Fine, I’ll have time to think of something before then.”

“Why no jest tell thae truth?”

“Would you believe it, if I told you?”

“Of course—I wouldnae.”

“Night, Daddy dearest, I’m awa’ aff hame,” I said in dreadful Lallans but he got the drift I think.

Sitting in the Jaguar, I was about to start the car when it went very cold and I began to wonder if I had been poisoned. I found myself becoming unable to move and I really did worry that I’d been poisoned. My eyes were drawn to the rear-view mirror and looking back at me was the goddess.

“Are you not going to thank us for saving your life?”

I couldn’t move let alone speak.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” she laughed and the car shook.

“I sense you would like to ask some questions, so I’ll tell you what happened. We improved your memory, so you could deliver your lecture—you had to do that for us to draw out your would be assassin. Oh we knew who she was and why, but others had to see her for it to be considered a murder attempt. The substance she used if heated sharply is rendered harmless—and yes she’ll recover—physically, at least. We gave you the ability to produce that heat and neutralise the poison. It will return should they try again.

“You will forget all about this meeting but you will notice a strange car in the car park tomorrow and a search of it will show evidence of who and what these people were after. They really did intend to kill you to make their point—so in your jargon that would make them terrorists.

“How dare you think we set it all up—we knew it would happen, we neither set it up nor stopped it because some things have to happen for the world to move on. We just protected our servant who has yet to carry out her destiny, which would be decidedly more difficult if she’d been pronounced dead—mind you, the way she acts now, you’d think she was dead already.” She clicked her fingers and I jumped in my seat.

For a moment I wondered if I’d dropped off to sleep—after someone tried to kill me, how likely is that, so what did happen—just now I mean?