Almost Perfect

TOMBOLA’S IS THE IDEAL VENUE FOR YOUR NEXT PARTY

Tombola’s was one of those places. It was hard to see why anyone would go there for a drink unless it was for a reason. It wasn’t a bar you’d drop in on. The brewery were baffled. Clearly, the architect had put a lot of work in, and the décor was very nice – quite modern, quite classy, quite solid wood and cosy bunk beds. The beers were nice, the food wasn’t bad, the music wasn’t offensive. It was all very safe and ordinary – and the folk of Cardiff avoided it like the plague. Which meant it was easy to book it for a function – so it was popular with book groups, societies, and so on.

It had needlessly roped off an area for speed-dating. The area was full of corpses. All dressed up. All ready to go. All dead.

‘Well, they’re all men. I think we’re looking for a woman.’ Jack smiled. ‘Forget Mister Right – we’re looking for Miss Wrong.’ He stuck his hands on his hips and grinned broadly.

Jack Harkness, thought Gwen, I love you, but sometimes, you can be very hard work.

An hour later and they’d managed to collect twelve wallets and mobiles and only destroyed two bodies. Miraculously, Ianto had managed to avoid getting any of the dust on him. Whereas Gwen was caked in dead people. She was mentally rehearsing comebacks for any witty comments that Rhys might manage when she finally staggered in. But that wasn’t going to be for a long time.

Ianto confirmed there wasn’t any CCTV footage. ‘But, interesting development – the place was booked for speed-dating. And, as far as anyone can tell, this was it. The bar staff agree that everything was going on very much as normal, and then… all of a sudden… this.’

‘Yeah, but that’s stupid,’ said Gwen, a little harsher than she’d intended. ‘There are twelve men here. Where are the women? You don’t just get one woman – it’s normally a group. Fuelled on zambuca and desperation.’

Ianto reached into a large pink rucksack and pulled out a scanner which he ran over each of the bodies. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘No abnormal emissions, no radiation traces. Slightly elevated static electricity.’

‘Really?’ said Jack.

‘Yes. Twenty-three per cent. Same as over the rest of town.’

‘Oh.’

‘Right. This is peculiar.’ Ianto was scanning the room. He shrugged, which pushed back the straps on his shoulders. ‘No… something’s odd here. Each skeleton… it’s… perfect. Full set of teeth. No bones broken. Great posture. No fillings.’

Gwen laughed. ‘Twelve Welsh men without a single filling?’ The skeletons sat at various tables across the room, all in postures of polite attention.

‘So,’ said Jack slowly. ‘Apart from the mysteriously vanishing women, someone is taking men, making them physically perfect, then killing them?’

‘Don’t forget about sending the odd one back through time,’ put in Ianto.

‘Marvellous.’