There Joshua walked along the street, oblivious for once of the danger. It felt good to be back on the streets. He realised he had been away too long.

Up ahead, he saw some youths loitering at a bus stop. Or maybe they were just waiting for the bus? Instinct fought against logic, and he hesitated.

One of them pulled a piece of wood from an inside pocket, and began a swing towards the back of an old man's head.

"Oi! Stop!"

The youth flinched, and looked right at him.

Then another youth reached into a pocket, and pulled out a gun.

The old man, having also heard the warning, saw the gun, and began to gather together his bags, ready to run.

The gun swung around.

Joshua began to run.

Confused by the new threat, the gun swung back his way. He watched as it fired.

He heard the shouts of fear from the other youths, but now it was just Joshua and the gunman. Everyone else was irrelevant.

Joshua had to buck the odds to avoid being hit.

***

"Inspector, I do not need this right now."

"I'm sure you don't, but unless you start talking, we'll be here all night."

The Doctor looked into his new-found opponent's face, and was dismayed by what he found there. Here was a man merely doing his job, as he saw it. As far as he was concerned, he was perfectly in the right.

"Why can't you ask Inspector Lamp-post what happened?"

Hill's eyes blazed at the name. "Joshua Lamp-post has been sent home, until such time as we need to bring him in for further questioning. He seems to have been under some considerable stress lately. Which brings me back to what you and he were doing in the Chaghorn Suite of the Langley Museum at 2am last night." He slammed the palms of his hands onto the table. The Doctor considered it to be impressive body language.

"It was an accident. We could not have known there was a robbery going on. I would be willing to help you catch the culprits. Some of those paintings... well, they're works of art, aren't they?"

Hill stared into the Time Lord's eyes. Then he burst out laughing. "Works of art... very good, I've always got time for a man with a sense of humour." But the laugh cut off abruptly, and the stare was back in its place.

The Doctor tried another tack. "Considerable stress... that's what you said, isn't it? You think he's gone mad, don't you?"

"He was not 100% fit, Mr- no, no, don't remind me, it's Doctor, isn't it? Hah! Doctor..." Hill sat down in the opposite chair, folding his arms behind his head. "It's too fantastical to be true, that's the problem."

"I helped solve the case on Occupation Street, and helped catch the Jigsaw Killer. I have no motive to rob a minor art gallery of its three most valuable works!"

"You have no records, no income, no fixed abode. Just a curious blue wardrobe."

"It's rather more than a wardrobe. If its part of your inquiries, Inspector, I'm happy to show you inside... don't want to have Obstruction on my charge list, do I?"

Hill forced a smile, staring into the Doctor's eyes.

The door burst open. "Inspector Hill-"

"Sergeant Whitfield entered the room at 1025 hours," commented the Doctor, leaning close to the tape.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"It's Joshua Lamp-post, Sir! He's been shot!"

***

Quite why Hill thought it wise to bring his prime suspect along with him on a hospital visit, he couldn't say. But the look on his face had been genuine, whatever his words seemed to say.

The Doctor sat in Casualty, apparently little better than catatonic. He had seemed twitchy enough when they arrived, but the news that Joshua was in surgery seemed to give him some strength to cope.

Doctor Mortimer filled Hill in. He had been shot in the back, but the bullet had missed everything vital. He'd lost a lot of blood, and they wanted to keep him in as a precaution.

"Why..?"

"Come on, Doctor, the police have plenty of enemies. Just because Joshua hadn't been around for a while, people don't forget. Especially the ones who bear grudges."

"No, I mean, why shoot him in the back?"

Hill frowned, and turned to his suspect. "If I was you, I'd be more worried about the theft of those paintings."

"Inspector, just suppose the actual perpetrator saw us whilst making his robbery last night. Would it be too far-fetched that said perpetrator was trying to eliminate evidence, including live witnesses?"

Now he said it, the idea was all too plausible to Hill. He looked down at his colleague. He hated to see good officers brought down, whether in the line of duty or not.

The Doctor was still theorising. "Have you any witness statements to this attack?"

Sergeant Whitfield had joined them. He flipped open a notepad. "An elderly gentleman, Nathaniel Spring, witnessed a small number of male youths engaging in horseplay at a bus shelter, where Mr Spring was waiting for a bus. There was a shout, and when Spring turned, he saw one of the youths holding a firearm. Lamp-post was then seen running towards the youths, but the one with the firearm turned it towards him. There was a shot, and Lamp-post hit the ground. The youths dispersed rapidly."

"So, they tried to kill Spring, and got Joshua instead? No, too chancey. The proposed attack on Spring must be immaterial."

"Doctor, you take a great interest in detection, don't you?"

"Well deduced, Inspector. Someone has had a go at a good man... a good friend. The least I can do is bring his attacker to justice."

After a pause, Hill swallowed. "Look, alright, you can help me with my investigation. But I'm going to keep an eye on you!"

"Fine by me, Inspector. Besides, I have good motive to help you, don't I? I was there, too - so I could be next."

***

"So, this is the bus shelter where the incident occurred."

"Looks ordinary enough to me," said the Doctor. He looked out, trying to see in his mind the sequence of events leading up to the attack.

The tower blocks across the road stood imposingly, casting a grim shadow over the area. There were parked cars lined along the street, affording plenty of cover for the elusive gunman, or gunwoman. In the confusion, there were plenty of places for someone to make good their escape.

"We're not dealing with some fly-by-night chancer, Inspector. I dare say the bus shelter attack wasn't wholly planned, but the perpetrators took full advantage of the opportunity. Or maybe they co-ordinated the whole thing, in which case they're even more dangerous."

Hill rubbed the back of his neck. He had never been fond of this estate, and the thought that a cop-killer was lurking around wasn't helping his mood. "So, what's your next move?"

The Doctor paused in his visual sweep of the area. There was a light somewhere - not something glinting in the sun.

There - the 6th floor!

"Get down!" He threw himself on top of Hill, hoping he had spoiled the aim.

The toughened plastic of the bus shelter took the brunt of the weapon, shattering around the single bullet-hole.

"Quick, behind this wall!" The Doctor bodily hauled Hill off the ground, shoving him out of sight, before disappearing into safety himself.

They waited, but heard no further shots.

"That was close," noted the Doctor. Then, after a pause: "Could you call for some back-up, please?"

Hill was talking into his mobile within seconds. When he finished the call, he turned to the Doctor. "You saved my life."

"Of course. Life is too precious a thing to be wasted, Inspector. Joshua would tell you the same were he able."

"Do you still think these people are connected to the art robbery?"

"Well, it's a decent theory so far. Come on, let's see if we can get close to their lair." He poised, readying to spring back over the wall.

"You can't be serious! Doctor, help will be here in a few minutes, why don't we wait for reinforcements? Let the professionals in, God knows they're trained for it."

"You can stay here if you wish, Inspector. Better to co-ordinate the attack. I've got to try and negotiate a peaceful end to this." He grabbed Hill's hand, shook it firmly, then vaulted back over the wall.

***

To his relief, there were no more shots. Perhaps his assailants thought he wouldn't be so foolish as to come back for more. Or perhaps they had changed position.

He briefly scanned the wall of windows where he had spotted the sniper, but no tell-tale signs this time.

Taking a chance, he crossed the road, heading for the ground-floor entrance. Then he would make for the 6th floor.

As he pushed open the door leading into the building, he tutted at himself for not passing on to Inspector Hill the floor where the sniper was located.

***

When he heard the sirens blaring closer, Jac thought he had never been so pleased to hear them before.

Slowly, he popped his head up, and when he realised how silly he looked, he brought himself bodily into view, making for the cover provided by the sides of the cars.

The nearside window buzzed down, and he said, "There's a sniper in that building. The Doctor's already gone in."

"Do you have any precise location for the sniper?"

Jac did a double-take. He hadn't actually paid attention. Either he could make a wild guess, or trust to luck. And trust to the Doctor.

"No, it happened very quickly. We took cover. He's a good strategist, that Doctor. We need to get in there and help him."

***

The Doctor pounded up the stairs, sure that the lift was too great a risk. If there were people with guns around, he needed as much advantage as he could scrape.

The normal hustle and bustle was absent, which was a cause of concern. But perhaps it would work to his advantage.

He heard footsteps, and then a curious clatter, as doors opened and swung shut. Bizarrely, the noise above was quickly complemented by noise from below. The middle suddenly looked a bad place to be.

Regrettably, he abandoned the stairs on the 4th floor, and looked down the corridor for any signs of life.

As he looked back, he saw the barrel of a shotgun pressed against his chest.

***

Inspector Hill wanted one thing, more than anything else. He wanted promotion. He wanted to reach the top. Some of the sergeants said he was ruthless; that he would tread on people to get results. He heard the gossip. He didn't dismiss it. He couldn't.

But somewhere very deep inside him was the single, self-justifying thought : maybe I should be at the top anyway. Maybe I deserve to be there. Maybe I'm worth it.

It drove him as much as anything. It gave him a balance from his natural inclination to act like a madman.

"Doctor!" he shouted. The only reply he got was gunfire. If the Doctor was in the way, he was gone.

"Come on," he called, to his men, but they were as well-trained, and were already giving partial return fire.

Hill looked at the stairs, and realised he was looking at a metaphor. There was no choice.

***

"I was told to expect you... Doctor?"

"Well, you did shoot at me outside. And it was you who shot Joshua Lamp-post, wasn't it?"

That provoked a reaction - a wry smile. "Oh yes. Too good an opportunity to let go. He'd caused me and mine a lot of trouble. A lot. When Charlie spotted him at the Gallery, we couldn't believe he was back on our patch."

"He would say you are on his patch."

The barrels climbed a little higher. "Don't push it, Doctor. My boss might want you alive, but I don't care so much."

"Your boss... the Magpie, perhaps?"

This time, the barrel slammed up into the Doctor's chin, and it felt as if it drew blood, although the shock was more painful. "I'm the Magpie, got it? I organised the gang, I planned the raids, I did the work!"

The Doctor clutched his face. "Oh, I'm sure. But you're still not the boss, are you? You're still having your strings pulled by someone else?"

The Magpie almost hit him again, but stopped himself. "You're a slippery devil, aren't you? I was warned, but I didn't think you could be as bad as he said. And you're not. You're worse!"

"Well, someone knows me very well, that's always nice. So, are you going to take me to your leader?"

Before the Magpie could hit him again, there was a gunshot, and the criminal staggered back. The Doctor saw the wound in his right thigh. He paused only to look who had fired.

Inspector Hill had paused for only a split-second to take in the results of his handiwork, and give a grin of triumph. Then he was all business again, moving forwards with a pair of handcuffs.

"Inspector, this man needs medical help, not the cold hands of the law!"

"Doctor, I'm glad to see you're alive. Who is this, then?"

"He calls himself the Magpie. He's the muscle behind the art gallery job, and the attack on Joshua."

"Good grief, Doctor, you'd put our detection results through the roof!" He clapped the handcuffs on the Magpie, but in front of his chest, rather than behind his back. He saw the Doctor looking at this breach of protocol. "Well, I can make allowances, Doctor."

"Thank you, Inspector. There's only one small snag."

"What's that?"

"He isn't the ringleader. He's working for someone else."

Hill looked around. They could both hear the rest of Hill's team throbbing up the stairs, but the building was otherwise eerily quiet. When Sergeant Whitfield arrived, Hill gave orders for a stretcher to take the Magpie away.

"So, we need to find his base."

The Doctor seemed a little phased at the pace of events. "Yes, I think the shots came from the 6th floor."

"Come on, then." Hill was heading up the stairs without a moment's hesitation.

Frowning, the Doctor walked after him.

***

As the Magpie was loaded into the back of an ambulance, eyes stared down through binoculars. The loss of the Magpie was a blow. He had been trained perfectly, and responded in all respects.

But such losses could be foreborn in the wider sphere in which he operated. He moved back from the window, and waited for the sound of his trackers.

***

"Are we just going to knock on each door until we're successful, Inspector?"

"Simplest way, Doctor. We may not have time for a more random approach." Another door opened, but there was no sign of anything suspicious.

Again, Hill's attitude made the Doctor pause. His predictive instincts were tingling.

"Perhaps we should wait for Sergeant Whitfield..?"

"Rubbish, Doctor. Who needs him?" He came to a door marked '613'. He gave it a knock, but got no reply. He tried the handle.

The Doctor leaned forward, grabbing his arm. "I really would be more careful..."

Hill shook him off. "Come on, Doctor, I didn't know what old Lamp-post had seen in you, but I know now." He turned back to the door, then took a couple of paces back.

It went against his nature, but the Doctor knew he couldn't stop Hill however much he tried. He took a step backwards.

The policeman took as much of a run-up as he could, and shoulder-barged the door.

As he did, it exploded outwards, smashing his frail body into the opposite wall, lifeless.

Shaking with rage, the Doctor stepped through the remains of the door, only to be met by emptiness, and a mocking sound coming from the bathroom. He pushed the door handle, but it was now empty.

When he turned around, he saw Sergeant Whitfield had finally arrived. "Too late, I'm afraid, Sergeant. He's got away again."

***

Some time later, the Doctor stood next to Whitfield, at Joshua's bedside.

"I'm going to have to go now, Sergeant. Could you tell him I'm sorry it ended like this?"

"Certainly, Doctor. Thank you for helping us catch the Magpie."

The Time Lord sighed. "Well... I let the bigger villain escape. But I swear I'll catch him. I owe it to them." Then he shook Whitfield's hand, and walked off, shaking the staff nurse's hand as he passed.

Whitfield never saw him again.