The Gandhis were going at it full tilt. Now, if you've never seen Gandhi's Hairdryer play live, and there may just possibly be some lost soul in Outer Mongolia that hasn't, getting the measure of their music can be a tricky business.

The lead singer, when asked by the presenter of a TV arts programme to describe it, said, 'Basically, like, the music is diatonic. Based upon any scale of five tones and two semitones produced by playing the I white keys of a keyboard instrument, especially the natural major and minor scales-'

'I'll have to stop you there,' said the presenter.

'Why?' asked the lead singer.

'Because it wasn't funny the first time and I'm not sitting through it again.'

'Fair enough.'

Twenty-three-thousand souls were giving the ground some Wellie.

You really had to be there.

At the side of the stage, Polly said to Prince Charles, 'What about your mum?'

'My mum?' The prince was tapping his toes and popping his fingers.

'Your mum. She's been kidnapped or something and you don't appear to be showing a lot of concern.'

Prince Charles made his 'concerned' face. 'There,' said he. 'See how concerned one is?'

Polly found the words of Michelet (who?) forming in her mouth. 'It is a general rule that all superior men inherit the elements of superiority from their mothers,' she said. 'And, to quote the Marchioness de Spadara, The babe at first feeds on his mother's bosom, but-'

'Let's go behind the big speakers and-'

'No way!'

b.o.l.l.o.c.ks tapped all sorts of things into the computer. Cornelius moved the little mouse about.

'How's it. going?' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks asked.

'Fine. I've drawn Rune's reinvented ocarina, com-plete with all the new holes. So, if you can program the computer to a.n.a.lyse the new notes and play them out through the speaker system, I reckon we can open up the portal on Star Hill and storm into the For-bidden Zones.'

'I don't think that would be a very good idea at 411,' said Arthur Kobold, entering the control box and shutting the door behind him. 'Put up your hands please and move away from that contraption. I have a gun here somewhere.' He fished into his pocket and pulled one out. It was a very big gun. It was not regulation police issue.

'Now, n.o.body move until I pull the trigger. Then you can all fall down. Dead.'

26.

'I only came here to pull the plug out,' said Arthur. 'But it would appear that I am, as ever, in the right place at the right time.'

'I really hate him,' said Tuppe to Cornelius.

'Shut up, small person.' Arthur waved his big gun about. 'Now, let's get this shooting done and this noise turned off and I can go back and finish my cake.'

b.o.l.l.o.c.ks chewed upon his lip, Cornelius had still to punch in the order of the notes. 'Excuse me, sir,'

said he, stepping in front of the tall boy, 'but this really isn't anything to do with me, I'm just the sound engineer.'

'Really?' Arthur raised an eyebrow.

'Really, these two guys forced their way in here, knocking people out. They forced me to program some nonsense into the computer. Please don't shoot. I have a wife and three children. Well, two wives really.'

'Really?' said Arthur once more.

'Really.' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks crossed his heart. Get on with it, Cornelius, he thought.

Cornelius would dearly have liked to have been getting on with it. And no doubt he would have been doing so. If he'd been able to remember the order of the notes. Which he couldn't. He knew that Tuppe could though.

'So you're the sound engineer?' Arthur did trigger c.o.c.kings.

'That's me.' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks put out his hand for a bit of a shake. It didn't get one.

'If you're the sound engineer,' said Arthur, 'shouldn't you be wearing an official Gandhi's Hair-dryer World Tour T-shirt?'

'It's at the dry cleaner's. I spilt some steak sandwich down the front.' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks smiled.

'How about a stage pa.s.s, then?' Arthur glanced down. 'Both these unconscious chaps are wearing them. See? The one on top has a stage pa.s.s marked Big-Wig. And the one underneath, the one wearing an official Gandhi's Hairdryer World Tour T-shirt, his stage pa.s.s reads sound engineer.'

'Get away,' said b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. 'What a coincidence.'

'Just back up into the corner. Murphy, what are you up to?'

'Nothing,' said Cornelius, which was precisely correct. 'Now listen, Arthur. Let's be reasonable about this.'

'I am being reasonable. I'm being firm but fair. You present a serious risk to us. You'd do the same if you were in my place.'

'I wouldn't,' said Tuppe.

'Nor me,' said Cornelius. And they both shook their heads.

'Come out from behind that hair,' said Mr Kobold. 'And put your hands up.

Cornelius put his hands up through his hair.

'Listen,' said he, 'there has to be some compromise. This can't go on for ever. Your lot will get found out sooner or later. Better it's done my way, peacefully, before Hugo Rune marches in with the army.

'Hugo Rune?' said Arthur Kobold. 'Hugo Rune? Army? What? What? What?'

Hugo Rune was driving along in his silver car. Even if it didn't really run on water, it was still a wonderful thing. And it did go very fast.

And, as it was cloaked in a patent mantle of invisibility, no-one saw just how fast it did go. The guards on the palace gate didn't.

Rune didn't actually sing as he drove along, but he hummed to himself. Deeply. Majestically.

Her Majesty wasn't feeling particularly majestic. Hugo Rune had actually locked her in the boot.

Cornelius finished a hurried resume of Hugo Rune's plan for the conquest of the Forbidden Zones.

'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' Arthur Kobold was appalled. 'I thought he was... er ...''Dead?' Cornelius asked.

'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d. What shall we all do?'

'Well, you could stop pointing that gun at us for a start.'

Arthur wasn't keen.

'Look,' said Cornelius, 'I don't want to expose you and yours to the world. Really I don't. I just want you and yours to leave me and mine to run the world our way.

'Can't be done.' Arthur shook his head. 'You'd make a complete hash of it. Our safety would be at risk.'

'Mr Kobold,' said Cornelius, 'if Hugo Rune gets his way, there won't be any of your lot left. There will be no safety to risk. You'll all be dead.'

'I will have to cogitate upon these matters.'

'Take your time,' said Tuppe. 'Come back in half an hour. We'll wait.'

Arthur Kobold shook his head sadly. 'I don't think so. Rather that I just shoot the two of you now.

'Two?' said b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. 'Does that mean I can go?'

'Shoot the three of you now.

'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks,' said b.o.l.l.o.c.ks.

'I'm sorry, but there it is. Who wants to be shot first?'

'He does.' Three fingers pointed. Two of them pointed at b.o.l.l.o.c.ks.

'Thanks a lot, lads,' said that man. 'Some part in this epic I had.'

'That's life,' smiled Arthur Kobold, aiming for the head.

'Everyone! Up against the wall and spread'm!' Con-stable Ken blundered through the control-box door.

'What?' Arthur turned to meet him, gun in hand. 'Iraqi terrorist!' Ken pulled his pistol from his pocket and let fly. Everybody ducked. Especially Arthur Kobold.

'My hands are up,' said he, throwing down his gun.

'Yeah. Good. OK.' The young policeman had his gun between both hands and was doing his best to point it at everybody. 'All of you, hands high and kill the power.'

'I thought there was never a policeman around when you needed one,' said Tuppe.

'How can we switch off the power if our hands are up?' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks asked. Which was a fair enough question.

'Guy with the hair,' said Ken, 'turn out your pockets.'

'Why?' Cornelius asked.

'Because I like making people turn out their pockets,' said Ken, lapsing into English. 'It really humiliates them. Especially when I demand that they unroll their condoms.'

'Nice work, officer,' said Arthur Kobold.

'Eh?' said Constable Ken.

'Chief Inspector Kobold, Noise Abatement Division.' Arthur flashed something at the young policeman. It might have been a warrant card. It looked more like a beer mat.

'Sir?' said Constable Ken.

'You cut the power, Constable, I'll get some backup.' Arthur Kobold saluted.

Constable Ken saluted back - with his gun hand and nearly put his eye out.

'Now just hold on,' said Cornelius.

'Say sir in the presence of a superior officer,' Ken rubbed his forehead. 'I nearly put my eye out,' he said.

'But wait. Don't let him leave.'

'Any more lip from you scuz-bucket, and I'll blow your G.o.dd.a.m.n brains out.' But that was about that for Constable Ken. Arthur Kobold struck him from behind. Right on top of the head. He collapsed on to the bigwig and the sound engineer. Shame really, but probably all for the best. Spared us any more of the duff Americanisms.

'Now,' said Arthur, pointing his gun once more at b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. 'It was you first, wasn't it?''Could we have a recount?' b.o.l.l.o.c.ks asked.

'This is not a short cut,' said Inspectre Hovis. 'This is Hammersmith.'

'Leave it to the professional,' replied the Mulligan. 'I'll get you to where you have to be.'

Hovis jumped forward in his seat. 'I know you,' he cried. 'What's your game?'

Arthur squeezed the trigger. Tuppe was covering his head. Cornelius was covering Tuppe's head.

b.o.l.l.o.c.ks was complaining that a condemned man should always be ent.i.tled to a final joint.

The gun went bang very loudly indeed. And Arthur Kobold fell to the floor.

Anna Gotting stood in the doorway. She had a jig-rigger's spanner in her hand. A spanner which had just dealt Arthur Kobold a devastating blow.

'I've been watching you guys come in here,' said Anna. 'I'd come in myself, if I could climb over all the bodies.'

'Stop this cab,' demanded Inspectre Hovis. 'I have work of national importance to do.'

'Up yours, copper,' sneered the wayward cabbie.