Dialogues of the Dead

2^ 'Sorry, run that by me again.' 'He's got a puzzler's mind, the kind that sees everything in terms of hidden answers, and deceptions, and references, and connections, and riddles, and word games. Hiding what's turned out to be fact in a great pile of fiction is exactly the kind of thing that would appeal to him.' 'This degree they say you did, what was it in? Ornithology with psychiatry?' she said, half mocking, half complimentary. 'Geography,' he said, adding, 'with Economics,' like a plea in mitigation. It didn't work. 'My God. You mean I'm getting involved with a bird-watcher with a geography degree? At least I won't have to worry about getting to sleep at nights.' He examined this, decided there was more in it to be pleased with than to take offence at, and went on, 'Being a detective's like learning to use the reference library. It's all a question of knowing where to look. We had these guys down from the Uni, a trick cyclist and a linguist. I took notes. What I'm saying is that while everyone should take care, there's no group in particular we can advise as being at greater risk than any other. Saying everyone's in danger may sound like cold comfort, but if you look at it statistically, if everyone's in danger, the odds on you being the one are pretty long. So take care, but don't take to the hills. Not without company, anyway. Talking of which, are you going to be fit for our expedition this weekend?' 'No problem,' she said, stretching back sinuously so that her T-shirt rode up from her jeans revealing a band of gently rounded belly which set all those alarms flashing and ringing along his arteries once more. 'I'm feeling better by the minute. Who did you see at the library? Dick?' 'Yes,' he said. If she'd wanted to flick a bit of cold water at him, introducing Dee's name at this juncture did the trick. 'Talking of Dee, you ever hear of a doctor with that name?' 'Not unless you mean the Elizabethan astrologer and necro mancer,' she said. 'Yeah, that'll be the one,' he said. Clever old Pascoe, ho ho ho. 'This the latest theory, the Wordman's a magician and Dick's a descendant of the doctor?' 'Well, you've got to admit he's a little bit weird,' he said, adding quickly to dilute his criticism, 'Must be the time he spends with Perm. When I went up to the Reference, they were in the office, playing that funny board game. Paronomania.' He looked at her closely to see if he'd got it right. Rye laughed and said, 'You do listen, then!' 'Depends who's talking. You said the word actually means an obsessive interest in word games?' 'That's right. It's a mix of paronomasia, that's word-play or a pun, and mania, with maybe a touch of paranoia thrown in. What are you looking at me like that for?' 'You realize you've just repeated more or less what I was saying about the Wordman?' said Hat. 'Oh, come on,' she said with irritation. 'What your tame experts said, you mean? Listen, these two have been playing this game ever since I joined the staff. It's no big secret vice. I asked about it and Dick explained the name, no problem. He even gave me a copy of the rules and so on. I've got it somewhere.' She started looking through a drawer. 'The two boards I've seen looked hand-painted, and they were different.' said Hat. 'Is it a real game? Or just one they made up?' 'What on earth would the difference be?' she said, smiling at him. 'I know it started at school when they were playing Scrabble .. .' 'At school?' he interrupted. 'Dee went to Unthank too?' 'Yes. That a problem?' 'Of course not.' But it might be an answer. 'So, Scrabble.' 'That's right. It seems there was a dispute about some Latin word that one of them used, and it lead to them playing a version in which you couldn't use anything but Latin. Things developed from that, they wanted something more complicated, with a bigger board, more letters, different rules, and the players take turns in choosing the language . .. Oh, here it is - no, don't read it now, you can keep it, time I was clearing out some of this clutter.' Hat folded the sheets of paper she'd given him and put them in his wallet. 'No wonder I couldn't understand any of the words I saw,' he said, reluctantly impressed. 'How many languages do they speak, for God's sake?'