Of Lights and Shadows (Book 4)

46) Quick Incentive

Exactly how fast time moves when there is no instrument to measure it is unsure. With a watch you can count the seconds turning into minutes, and the minutes turning into hours, but take that away and you can never know for sure. Does time stay the same all the time, or does it change and flux when you don't pay attention? If you notice, some days pass quickly while other completely normal days pass so slowly it feels like weeks.

Counting under his breath, Dastardious kept track of the time. Every minute he reached he would scrape a line on the floor, for every hour he would scrape a cross. By this rather crude method he passed time slowly, and so when at last someone arrived at the door he knew he had been in the cell for exactly eleven hours, ten minutes and forty-three seconds.

As the door opened he rose stiffly from his cross-legged position to his feet, keeping count all the while underneath his breath as he watched the door swing open. An officer in blue entered followed by Gallapolo.

'Hollow,' the Commissioner acknowledged. He was sweating, and new crease marks covered his forehead.

'Commissioner.' Dastardious paused in his counting. He looked with interest at the officer who was joining them. He stood to the back of them respectfully and didn't say a word. He switched his attention to Gallapolo and watched him closely. The man was still sweating, and it wasn't from heat. The cell was freezing. No, it was a nervous sweat, things had moved away from his control and he was not happy about it. The guard wasn't for Gallapolo's protection against Dastardious; he was there to keep an eye on him.

'The evidence against you, Dastardious, is overwhelming,' Gallapolo told him, stroking his moustache. I was able to free you before, but not this time. The court is scheduled for tomorrow and Mulligan is demanding the death penalty for you.'

'Really?' Dastardious said, surprised. It was not something he expected to have to face.

'Yes. He's already gone to the Mayor and had a talk with him about it; he can be quite persuasive when he wants to. His whole case of demanding the death penalty is extreme but I feel the court will go for it. They have your record and it shocked one or two of them when they read it, Hollow, so

I think it's safe to assume it's not looking good for you. I've tried what I can-'

'What time is the court tomorrow?' Dastardious interrupted him.

'Ten a.m. someone will collect you in the morning.'

Dastardious grunted. Mulligan was efficient when he knew what to do.

'Is there a chance of me getting out of here until the hearing tomorrow?' Dastardious asked.

Gallapolo shook his head. 'There's no chance. Mulligan wants no opening available to you in case you make a run for it, he doesn't trust you. Frankly I think he's nuts. In all my time I've never known you to run, and he's known you longer so he should know it too.'

Somehow, thought Dastardious, it didn't sound like the running away that Mulligan was worried about; it was more was more what might happen to him.

'How tight is the case against me?' Dastardious asked.

Gallapolo sighed. 'I told you, Hollow; it's tight enough that the court will call for your death. You have the evidence of two murders against you, one of which you lied about, and the evi­dence of people whose deaths you caused. If they give you life then it'll be a miracle. But when it gets down to it there is no way you will be able to escape from this.'

Dastardious nodded. 'If I prove the accusation that I killed Frank Coldon is false, would that loosen the penalty?'

'It might,' Gallapolo told him hesitantly. 'I don't see how you could. Mulligan's got your prints on the murder weapon as well as ash from the cigars you smoke at the scene of the mur­der.'