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Description
Sarah watched the ship climb away with mixed feelings;
"Wait till I tell Kate about her date on Saturday night!" She observed wryly. Taking careful steps, she made her way around the water-tanks and between the periscope-like ventilators shuddering at the thought of crawling through those shafts. Her partnership with the Doctor had frequently seen her wedged in those things and was probably the cause of her animosity towards the pastime now!
Despite the trappings of her disguise this was a much better plan, she considered. Alright, so she was probably clutching at straws in thinking that the manager's defference to this 'Mr Magister' was an absolute indication of his residence at their penthouse but she was used to relying on her instincts and she'd learned many times to ignore them at her peril...
The roof stretched-out in front of her like some fantastic sky-faring vessel as she made her way from the uppermost part of it to the steps that she'd seen from the air leading down to the pool and the lavish occupancy adjacent to it. Sarah quietly made her way down the steps as she eyed the glass front of the apartment. There he was! The unmistakable figure of Magister could be seen quite clearly through the glass patio doors-thank Heavens for that! She hadn't relished the thought of scouring the entire building. The fewer people she saw (or saw her!) the better...
Magister appeared to be leaving. He opened the door to go but then seemed to change his mind, returning only to mess with the video handset;
"I wish I'd remembered to do that more often!" Grumbled Sarah to herself as she contemplated all the Pythons and Blackadders she'd had to buy.
Magister left the room a second time but she waited a further ten minutes, just in case then approached the glass frontage. She skirted the pool, its blue chlorinated magnificense lapping at the sides invitingly and closed in on his abode. Her hands straying under her apron, Sarah unpinned the small cloth wallet of lock-picks she carried on such occasions and began to examine the sliding glass doors. She frowned at not being able to find any outside locking-devices then groaned as she realised, Why lock it up here if you're only going to visit your own pool? The catch will be on the inside-HELL!"
Sarah Jane Smith idly wondered when Jerry would get back. They'd agreed on an hour but she really didn't fancy sitting by the water for that long-not without a tall drink in her hand, anyway! A puzzled frown crossed her face then and Sarah returned her 'bag of tricks', pressing her hands to the glass and exerting pressure. To her joy and amazement the panel slid noiselessly to the right, giving full access to the suite;
"Oh yes, nice one!" Just about to cross the threshold, a thought occured to her, "This is too easy..." She stooped and looked to the wall on the left at ankle-level, "Hmmm, no 'magic eye' to trip-strange." The reporter ventured-in, now quite unsettled, "Welcome to my parlour..."
Her dubious thoughts were all but banished from her head as she gaped around the place in awe, letting out a low whistle;
"Whatever this bloke does for a living it certainly pays well!" She gasped and paused to lift a bottle of champagne out of its ice-bucket to study the label then nearly dropped it when a voice shrieked, "PIECES OF EIGHT!"
She spun with the shock of the alien voice's intrusion but then relaxed at the sight of the parrot in its cage against the far wall of the room. With a snort she flitted across to the bird and wiggled its cuttlefish at it whilst she whistled and complimented it on its plumage. It made an attempt to peck at her fingers;
"Now now, don't be nasty to Auntie Sarah!"-She chuckled as she watched the creature give-up and begin chewing on its bars in prefference.
Returning to her quest, she wandered around Magister's lair. She examined magazines on the coffee table and lifted cushions. If anything, the place looked quite bare-he hadn't appeared to have brought anything of his own. Sarah Jane Smith felt despair creeping-in. She lifted prints (Surely not originals!) and even looked under the massive, circular bed-nothing! All she could find in the bed-side cabinet was air and a Gideon Bible. She shut the doors in disgust and turned to leave;
"Oh, good grief!"-She winced as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored front of the wardrobe, "Maybe I should have brought my feather-duster?" She straightened her apron and tried to simultaneously hitch-up and yank down the neckline and hem of her frock respectively, "Ooh Rene!" She breathed in a poor French accent then shook her head with a groan.
There was a click and whirr as the VCR came on, giving her a start. Sarah Jane took this as a cue for her to take a rest and shuffled into the lounge, disconsolately collapsing into the plush couch-such an improvement on the one in the lobby!
Depressed, she fiddled with the hem of her uniform and contemplated what to do. She couldn't get in contact with Jerry to pick her up, they didn't have walkie-talkies and he was working anyway-she'd just have to wait for him to return, he didn't have a phone in his chopper!
Her eyes flicked to the ornate, gold-plated phone that sat on the marble surface opposite an impressive-looking 'House of Cards'. Sarah gave the phone a quizzical look. What was wrong with this picture? No, what was wrong with this phone?
"No," she deduced, "...not this phone, that one..."
She peered across the room to an item that bore no relation to its surroundings...

Description
Sarah watched the ship climb away with mixed feelings;
"Wait till I tell Kate about her date on Saturday night!" She observed wryly. Taking careful steps, she made her way around the water-tanks and between the periscope-like ventilators shuddering at the thought of crawling through those shafts. Her partnership with the Doctor had frequently seen her wedged in those things and was probably the cause of her animosity towards the pastime now!
Despite the trappings of her disguise this was a much better plan, she considered. Alright, so she was probably clutching at straws in thinking that the manager's defference to this 'Mr Magister' was an absolute indication of his residence at their penthouse but she was used to relying on her instincts and she'd learned many times to ignore them at her peril...
The roof stretched-out in front of her like some fantastic sky-faring vessel as she made her way from the uppermost part of it to the steps that she'd seen from the air leading down to the pool and the lavish occupancy adjacent to it. Sarah quietly made her way down the steps as she eyed the glass front of the apartment. There he was! The unmistakable figure of Magister could be seen quite clearly through the glass patio doors-thank Heavens for that! She hadn't relished the thought of scouring the entire building. The fewer people she saw (or saw her!) the better...
Magister appeared to be leaving. He opened the door to go but then seemed to change his mind, returning only to mess with the video handset;
"I wish I'd remembered to do that more often!" Grumbled Sarah to herself as she contemplated all the Pythons and Blackadders she'd had to buy.
Magister left the room a second time but she waited a further ten minutes, just in case then approached the glass frontage. She skirted the pool, its blue chlorinated magnificense lapping at the sides invitingly and closed in on his abode. Her hands straying under her apron, Sarah unpinned the small cloth wallet of lock-picks she carried on such occasions and began to examine the sliding glass doors. She frowned at not being able to find any outside locking-devices then groaned as she realised, Why lock it up here if you're only going to visit your own pool? The catch will be on the inside-HELL!"
Sarah Jane Smith idly wondered when Jerry would get back. They'd agreed on an hour but she really didn't fancy sitting by the water for that long-not without a tall drink in her hand, anyway! A puzzled frown crossed her face then and Sarah returned her 'bag of tricks', pressing her hands to the glass and exerting pressure. To her joy and amazement the panel slid noiselessly to the right, giving full access to the suite;
"Oh yes, nice one!" Just about to cross the threshold, a thought occured to her, "This is too easy..." She stooped and looked to the wall on the left at ankle-level, "Hmmm, no 'magic eye' to trip-strange." The reporter ventured-in, now quite unsettled, "Welcome to my parlour..."
Her dubious thoughts were all but banished from her head as she gaped around the place in awe, letting out a low whistle;
"Whatever this bloke does for a living it certainly pays well!" She gasped and paused to lift a bottle of champagne out of its ice-bucket to study the label then nearly dropped it when a voice shrieked, "PIECES OF EIGHT!"
She spun with the shock of the alien voice's intrusion but then relaxed at the sight of the parrot in its cage against the far wall of the room. With a snort she flitted across to the bird and wiggled its cuttlefish at it whilst she whistled and complimented it on its plumage. It made an attempt to peck at her fingers;
"Now now, don't be nasty to Auntie Sarah!"-She chuckled as she watched the creature give-up and begin chewing on its bars in prefference.
Returning to her quest, she wandered around Magister's lair. She examined magazines on the coffee table and lifted cushions. If anything, the place looked quite bare-he hadn't appeared to have brought anything of his own. Sarah Jane Smith felt despair creeping-in. She lifted prints (Surely not originals!) and even looked under the massive, circular bed-nothing! All she could find in the bed-side cabinet was air and a Gideon Bible. She shut the doors in disgust and turned to leave;
"Oh, good grief!"-She winced as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored front of the wardrobe, "Maybe I should have brought my feather-duster?" She straightened her apron and tried to simultaneously hitch-up and yank down the neckline and hem of her frock respectively, "Ooh Rene!" She breathed in a poor French accent then shook her head with a groan.
There was a click and whirr as the VCR came on, giving her a start. Sarah Jane took this as a cue for her to take a rest and shuffled into the lounge, disconsolately collapsing into the plush couch-such an improvement on the one in the lobby!
Depressed, she fiddled with the hem of her uniform and contemplated what to do. She couldn't get in contact with Jerry to pick her up, they didn't have walkie-talkies and he was working anyway-she'd just have to wait for him to return, he didn't have a phone in his chopper!
Her eyes flicked to the ornate, gold-plated phone that sat on the marble surface opposite an impressive-looking 'House of Cards'. Sarah gave the phone a quizzical look. What was wrong with this picture? No, what was wrong with this phone?
"No," she deduced, "...not this phone, that one..."
She peered across the room to an item that bore no relation to its surroundings...