Early Riser_The new standalone novel from the Number One bestselling author

by Jasper Fforde

‘Sixty-three.’

  There was another explosive level of muffled swearing from behind the frosted glass.

  Treacle and Jonesy smiled as though this sort of thing happened all the time, and we heard the phone slammed down, then a crash as something was either kicked or thrown across the room.

  ‘She’s a bit … sweary,’ I said.

  ‘You should hear her when she really gets pissed off.’

  I had a thought and pulled Birgitta’s severed thumb out of my pocket. It was still wrapped in a handkerchief, the blood now caked dark brown. I felt a sense of nausea rise up within me, and handed it to Jonesy.

  ‘Here,’ I said, ‘do you want to add this to your score?’

  ‘Oh, you darling!’ she said, eagerly accepting the prize and carefully placing it on the counter next to the other two. She beamed at me and went off to her desk. Treacle glared at me as though I’d just given her flowers, chocolates, a TOG-28 coat and a card.

  ‘I thought you said I’d have no problems from you?’ he said, once she was out of earshot.

  ‘It was only a thumb,’ I whispered back.

  ‘That’s how it started with Cotton,’ said Treacle in a grumbly sort of voice, ‘first a thumb, then a gift, sort-of-real coffee in the Wincarnis. Next thing you know you’ve been bumped up to number one on her bundling list. If you are, will you describe what it’s like for three hundred euros?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Cotton did,’ he said in a whiny sort of voice.

  ‘I’m not Cotton.’

  Jonesy didn’t see or hear this exchange; she was busy pecking out a report on a typewriter that more closely resembled an antiquated pipe organ. Treacle held up Birgitta’s thumb.

  ‘Whose thumb is this anyway?’

  ‘Birgitta,’ I said, ‘from the Siddons.’

  ‘Baggy went walkies?’ he murmured. ‘That’s a shame – she was quite delightful in a perpetually pissed-off sort of way. Amazing eyes, and a terrific painter. We dated once.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, not meaning it to sound quite so incredulous. Treacle sighed.

  ‘If you must know,’ he said, ‘I bought a date with her at a charity auction in aid of the Sector Twelve Pool. She didn’t find any of my jokes or anecdotes remotely interesting, then threatened to bite me on the face if I tried to kiss her when we said goodnight. She didn’t elaborate, but I figured a second date was out of the question.’

  ‘Very astute of you.’

  He held up the two thumbs and stared at them.

  ‘The large thumb was from a travelling sire named Eddie Tangiers,’ I said, ‘the smaller from a female, also Siddons, mid-twenties, freshly married.’

  ‘I’ll call Lloyd,’ he muttered, ‘he’ll know.’

  He wrote down ‘Tangiers’ and ‘Manderlay’ and ‘Newlywed Siddons’ on a slip of paper and went off to confirm them.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Jonesy, who had finished her report and was hunting in vain for a stapler.

  ‘What do I think about what?’

  ‘About Treacle.’

  ‘Owning Laura’s child options makes him something of a heel.’

  ‘To a bondsman, that’s good business – and legal. They’ll both be millionaires when Laura hits eighteen; I can see her point, though. I meant aside from that.’

  ‘He’s very keen on you.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, looking all crestfallen. ‘Do you think I should just kill him and make it look like a Gronk attack? It would help Laura out, too.’

  ‘You could pay back the dowry,’ I suggested.

  ‘Yeah, right – and who would I borrow the cash from? Treacle himself?’

  ‘No, you could—’

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence as the door to Toccata’s office had opened. I turned, expecting to see Winter Consul Toccata. But it wasn’t – it was Aurora. I opened my mouth to greet her but then stopped. Although she looked the same, her demeanour seemed utterly different. Aurora had been relaxed and friendly, whereas this woman seemed sharp, driven, and utterly without humour. She strode forward with a purposeful swagger and a clearly aggressive sense of purpose. The only other differences I could see were in her clothes, which were now Consular uniform, and her eyes. Unlike Aurora’s, her right was gazing absently off and looking blank, and her left fixed me with a steely glare.

  But they weren’t twins. Aurora and Toccata were the same person.

  Toccata

  * * *

  ‘… The barograph recorded atmospheric pressure as a trace of ink on a 12hr strip of paper and was not only useful for gauging the weather, but could detect a pulse weapon’s discharge at a kilometre, less in a snowstorm. A skilled reader could often tell not just the weapon’s power and vortex gradient from the bump or spike profile, but the range, too …’

  – Handbook of Winterology, 1st edition, Hodder & Stoughton

  ‘Well, well,’ said Toccata, ‘the forgotten sleeper of the Sarah Siddons. Charlie Worthing, isn’t it?’

  Confused by the sudden turn of events, I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.

  ‘You know I am.’

  Toccata’s eye flashed dangerously.

  ‘I never ask questions I already know the answer to. Waste of my time, waste of yours. So, again: are you …’

  Her voice trailed off. She narrowed her eye and looked at Treacle and Jonesy in turn.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ she said, ‘a bunch of comedians. You didn’t tell Worthing Aurora and I looked vaguely similar, did you?’

  ‘Since Jonesy found Worthing,’ said Treacle, pointing an accusatory finger at her and demonstrating in the clearest manner why Jonesy wanted nothing to do with him. ‘She could have done so. In fact, I thought she had. Which is why I didn’t.’

  ‘I wanted to see the shocked look on Worthing’s face,’ said Jonesy after giving Treacle a withering look. ‘The Winters are long and we have to make our own entertainment.’

  ‘Make it some other way,’ growled Toccata, ‘whittling or ice sculpture or something.’

  She turned back to me.

  ‘But you are Charlie Worthing, I take it?’

  ‘I am, ma’am.’

  ‘Charlie prefers to be called Wonky,’ said Jonesy.

  ‘I doubt that so very much,’ said Toccata, ‘but Wonky it is. You were there when Jack Logan was … murdered?’

  She almost chose the word ‘died’ but then pulled back and substituted ‘murder’ instead. It was not hard to see either how she felt about it, nor who ultimately was to blame.

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  ‘He was one of the best,’ she said. ‘How did she get the drop on him?’

  I knew now why he’d paused: he couldn’t kill Aurora because he’d be killing Toccata, too. Odd, I thought, that he could countenance farming a nightwalker – but would rather be dead than kill someone he was once in love with.

  ‘He could easily have thumped Aurora,’ I said in a quiet voice, ‘but he paused. And in that moment, she had him.’

  ‘Paused?’ said Toccata. ‘Why would he do that?’

  I looked at Jonesy for help but she just stared back at me.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said.

  ‘I’ve read Aurora’s misspelled and poorly worded report,’ said Toccata after staring at me for a few seconds. ‘It claims you were about to be executed and that Aurora thumped Logan “in order to save the life of a Novice Consul”. Why was he going to kill you? What had you done?’

  ‘I hadn’t done anything,’ I said, ‘but I’d given him the impression that I would have reported about how he and Foulnap were going to farm Mrs Tiffen.’

  ‘You knew that for a fact? Did he actually say he was going to kill you?’

  I thought hard.

  ‘On reflection,’ I said slowly, ‘perhaps they didn’t want me dead.’

  ‘Explain yourself.’

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘The conversation began with Lopez saying: “Maybe we can trust the Novice, I didn’t
sign up to all this in order to start killing Consuls”. Then Foulnap said that he was with Lopez on this, and Logan said: “We can’t risk any of us being discovered, besides, Aurora’s in town”.’

  Jonesy and Toccata looked at one another.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Then Foulnap asked: “How did she get wind of us?” and Logan said: “We don’t know that she did. I’ll deal with Worthing, you deal with Mrs Tiffen”. He then gestured for me to leave the room and we did, and he then said: “You should have listened to me earlier and just let it all go”. And I then asked him if he could tell Sister Zygotia where she could find my body, and he told me not to be overdramatic. And that’s when the elevator doors opened to reveal Aurora. He was dead five seconds later.’

  I finished my account and fell silent. Toccata peered at me carefully, but when she next spoke it wasn’t about Logan.

  ‘Was that word for word?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘You must have a very good memory, Worthing.’

  ‘Second prize in the Swansea Town Memory Bee. Six hundred and forty-eight random words memorised after only two readings.’

  ‘Did Logan know about this?’

  ‘I think it’s why he employed me.’

  Toccata and Jonesy looked at one another again. There was something going on, something I wasn’t aware of. Mind you, I could have guessed that from all the way back in Cardiff.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘why didn’t you just keep your mouth shut as Logan asked?’

  ‘Because I’d sworn to uphold the law.’

  ‘No, you hadn’t: you’d sworn to uphold the sanctity of the sleepstate and ensure the most favourable outcome is enjoyed by the majority.’

  ‘Isn’t that the same thing?’

  ‘Not the same thing at all. What if Logan was on to something bigger? Something so big and so righteous and so important that your death would have simply been side-issue collateral, a necessary yet barely regrettable loss on the road to the most favourable outcome?’

  ‘Was he?’

  ‘It’s hypothetical, Worthing. Work with me on this.’

  ‘Then yes,’ I said, ‘I could have done what he’d asked. Let Foulnap take Mrs Tiffen, gone on as if nothing had happened. But I didn’t. I did what I felt was right.’

  ‘The road to Spring is littered with well-intentioned morons,’ remarked Toccata, ‘but I’m satisfied you were acting upon conscience.’

  She stared at me again.

  ‘You met her today, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said, relieved we were moving away from the subject of Logan’s death, ‘she stopped three nightwalkers from eating me. Oh, and she had a message: Queen’s knight takes bishop.’

  I decided to leave out the ‘being eaten alive by slime’ part of the message.

  ‘Queen’s knight takes bishop?’ said Toccata with a sudden burst of bright-eye enthusiasm. ‘An uncharacteristically dumb move, unless … unless she’s attempting the courageously risky yet certifiably insane Will Francis Queen & Double Rook Sacrifice. You’d better come in.’

  She led me through to her office, which was beyond disordered. Papers and files were stacked almost to the roof and were so precariously balanced they looked as if they might collapse at any second, burying us all. She beckoned for Jonesy to join us, indicated for me to sit, then went to a chessboard set out in mid-game. She moved the knight and picked out the bishop. I noted she was playing black, and had to rotate the board several times so she could see all the pieces.

  ‘It is the Will Francis,’ she muttered under her breath, then moved her rook. Not to take Aurora’s queen, which was horribly exposed, but to take a pawn and place Aurora’s king in check. ‘Which can,’ she continued, ‘be defeated by the Mays Single Pawn Do-or-Die Offensive.’

  I looked at Jonesy, who shrugged.

  ‘When you see the dopey cow again,’ she said without looking up, ‘queen’s rook takes bishop’s pawn two, check – and tell her from me that I hope she gets the mildew and her tits fall off.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said, still confused. Not by the chess game itself, in which their play might be best described as ‘eccentrically inspiring’, but that they could play each other.

  ‘Right,’ said Toccata as she sat down behind her desk, ‘to work.’

  She looked up and was about to say something, then stopped.

  ‘Where have you gone, Worthing?’

  ‘Here,’ I said, sitting precisely where I had been all along.

  She turned her head to place me well to the left of her.

  ‘Of course you are. Jonesy? Explain.’

  ‘Best move to the other side of the room, Worthing; the Chief can only see the left side of anything.’

  I got up and moved as requested, noting that the left side of her desk was clean and orderly while the right was a cluttered mass of old coffee cups, items of dirty washing and forgotten filing. The tower of dusty paperwork was also to her right, where she probably had no idea it existed – along with a stuffed ground sloth that had seen better days. I should have guessed about this, what with Aurora not seeing the left side of anything. I should have foreseen what happened next, too.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Toccata, studying me intently, ‘now, what’s the deal with your face?’

  ‘It’s a congenital bone deformity.’

  ‘On both sides? That’s a serious downer if ever I saw one.’

  ‘No, it’s just on the left.’

  Her eyelid twitched for a moment. If she never saw the right of anything, her visual cortex would make up the shortfall by extrapolation. My left side became the yardstick of both sides. To her, I must have been an intriguing sight. Charlie double-wonky Worthing. But on the plus side, at least my eyes would be on the same level – just low on my face, about the same level as my nose. To her, I must have had a forehead the size of Vermont.

  ‘What are you sniggering about, Worthing?’

  ‘Nothing – I just had an amusing thought about Vermont.’

  She glared at me with her single eye: powerful, unblinking, straight into my soul. It reminded of being given the eye by Mother Fallopia at the Pool. Even the most badly behaved kids would have their egos reduced to something resembling guacamole by its power.

  ‘On reflection,’ I added quickly, ‘you’re right – serious downer.’

  Aurora Toccata, the Chief Consul of Sector Twelve and also the head of HiberTech Security, was a Halfer. It was less popular these days owing to better recruitment levels and decreased mortality, but some committed Winterers had trained themselves to sleep hemispherically – one side of the brain at a time. It enabled them to be more fully on top of problems, use less pantry and essentially offer the Consular Service two workers for the price of one. Most Halfers exhibited mildly separate personalities, but they at least shared a consciousness and a memory. Unusually, uniquely, even – it seemed that Toccata and Aurora had no idea what the other was up to at all.

  ‘So, Wonky Worthing,’ said Toccata, ‘you are henceforth inducted into the Consulate Service here in Sector Twelve. Pledge your allegiance and accept the deputisation.’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘Then I accept,’ I said.

  ‘Wise of you. Now we’ve established that I’m your Chief, fill me in on how you got to the Douzey.’

  I repeated what I’d told Jonesy – that after Logan died I’d delivered Mrs Tiffen to The Notable Goodnight at HiberTech, and since Toccata wasn’t about I spoke to Fodder about viral dreams, then was stranded by a stationmaster. Aurora found me a room and suggested I get out on a Sno-Trac.

  ‘Next thing I know Jonesy is waking me up,’ I concluded.

  I didn’t think I’d mention anything about the dreams, nor about talking to Aurora in the Wincarnis. It wasn’t a good start, lying to one’s boss. But I needed to be cautious.

  ‘Hugo Foulnap?’ she echoed. ‘Seen him since?’

  ‘No �
� but Aurora thinks he might not be a Footman at all, but somehow involved with the Campaign for Real Sleep.’

  She gazed at me for a moment.

  ‘A wild accusation, if ever I heard one. She wouldn’t know a real fact if it jumped up and bit her on the arse. I have an idea why Logan brought you here, but what’s confusing me is that Aurora wants you here too.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Why do you think she marooned you here?’

  ‘She didn’t maroon me,’ I said, ‘the stationmaster did.’

  ‘The lines were down from Slumberdown minus two to plus eight,’ said Toccata. ‘The only way the stationmaster could know if you delayed the train in Cardiff was if Aurora told her. Turn up soon after you missed your train, did she? As if by magic?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ I said.

  ‘Did she suggest you shouldn’t tell us you were here?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Exactly. So: why is she interested in you remaining in Sector Twelve?’

  I didn’t know quite what to think. Aurora had told me Toccata would be difficult – and unlikely to tell the truth. But now it looked as though Aurora herself might have been manipulative.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said again.

  Toccata looked at me for almost a minute without saying anything.

  ‘Where did you meet Aurora today?’

  ‘The basement of the Siddons.’

  ‘Met her by accident there too, did you?’

  ‘Why, yes …’ I stopped. It might not have been an accident there, either. She’d have known I might go to get the Sno-Trac, and it would have been child’s play to empty the air reservoir so I couldn’t start the engine. ‘No, I was …’

  I was about to say ‘trying to get a Sno-Trac out of here’ but thought perhaps not.

  ‘Yes or no? What were you doing?’

  ‘We were both in the basement of the Siddons. I was … on an errand for Porter Lloyd and Aurora was looking for Tricksy walkers to take to HiberTech.’

  Toccata grunted and looked at Jonesy.

  ‘We missed some?’

  ‘Six,’ said Jonesy with a shrug, ‘Lloyd sent a memo but it was mislaid. Three survived, Wonky retired Baggy and the other two I dealt with.’