"You can count yourself lucky I'm still letting you do this," Izzy said. "How dare you hypnotise me like that?"

"Dear me," the Master replied. "From the way you talk, anyone would think that I wasn't one of the most evil beings in the universe who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals."

"Your goals being... to read a storybook to a bunch of toddlers?"

"I have my reasons." He glanced at Izzy. "And, no doubt, so do you. From your appearance I would deduce that you are looking forward to half-an-hour in a comfortable chair with your feet up and the latest issue of 2000 AD."

"How did you—"

"It was on the reception desk when I came in." He turned to the children. "Now, sit down quietly and I'll carry on with the story. The scene is Venice, 1861. The opening night of the Palace Hotel."

"Did they have a big banquet?" baby Adric asked.

"Greedy pig," little Nyssa muttered.

[The dining room. Time Lords, in their formal robes and collars, are giving long and tedious speeches.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
Henry Westwick arrived that evening. Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — he missed the dinner, and decided to head for his room.

[The first floor corridor, outside Room 14. François is in heated discussion with Henry van Statten.]

van Statten :
I'm not sleeping in that room. What sort of a two-bit hotel doesn't have gas lighting in its so-called finest bedrooms?

François :
François refer you to building supervisor.

[He produces a crudely-made sock puppet of a cat, and holds it up.]

Supervisor Moggie, why can best rooms not have gas light?

François [adopting a falsetto voice, and miming with his puppet] :
<Look at fine decorations. Emanations of burning gas light would be certain to spoil. Perhaps stroppy guest wish to examine decorations more closely?>

[He reaches for van Statten, and is on the point of slamming his head into the fine decorations.]

Harry / Henry [arriving stage right] :
I say, is there a problem?

François :
Indeed yes. Stroppy guest here refusing to sleep in room with no gas light. Have to swap with occupant of small mean gaslit room.

Harry / Henry :
Well, I'm willing to be the other one. I'm in number 57, on the third floor.

van Statten :
You've got a deal. This is my room. Or yours, now.

Harry / Henry :
Number Fourteen.

Master / Narrator [vo, adopting a sinister voice] :
Number Fourteen. The room where Lord Montbarry died.

[Night. Harry is in bed.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
He felt terrible and didn't sleep a wink all night.

Harry / Henry :
Really? Seems fairly comfy to me. [He yawns.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
Could you at least make an effort to follow the storyline?

Harry / Henry :
Someone being insomniac isn't exactly a riveting spectacle.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
True. True. But I'm sure there are other ways to keep you awake.

['Yakity Sax' plays. In pixilated motion, Jamie enters the room, pursued by Victoria, Zoë, Peri, Jo, Samantha, Isobel, Gia, and Rose, all of whom are dressed as showgirls. They circle the bed three times, disappear into a wardrobe, emerge from another wardrobe on the opposite side of the room, and depart through the windows onto the balcony. We hear a splash. Then another one. Then another one...]

"Four," baby Mel said, counting on her fingers. "Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. They all fell in the water."

Harry / Henry :
What was all that?

Master / Narrator [vo] :
I have no more idea than you do.

Harry / Henry :
I say, come off it, old chap.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
Would I lie to you?

[A pause while Harry considers this.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
Anyway, the following morning, Henry went down to the coffee room and ordered breakfast, only to find he couldn't eat a thing.

[The coffee room. Henry sits at a table, a plate of cutlets before him. He is just about to start eating when suddenly, through the window, a fork on the end of a long pole appears and spears them.]

Harry / Henry :
I say, what's going on?

Jack Harkness [sticking his head through the window] :
Sorry, I'm just fishing.

Harry / Henry :
I've a good mind to call the manager.

Jack :
Oh, you mean about the cutlets? Sorry, that was a mistake. I wasn't aiming for them.

Harry / Henry :
Then what were you fishing for?

Jack [with a leer] :
You.

[Henry runs for it. Jack promptly tucks in to the abandoned breakfast.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
The moment he got out of the hotel, he was back to normal.

[A brief montage shows Henry snoozing in a gondola, swimming in the sea, and eating a hearty lunch.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
That lasted until the evening, when he went back to the hotel. And exactly the same thing happened as before...

[A passage in the hotel. Jack, Jamie, Victoria and the rest are all waiting expectantly.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
... so there is no need to have it acted out again.

[With disappointed looks, everyone wanders off.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
The next morning, Henry happened to mention the problem in the manager's hearing.

[The coffee room. Once more, Henry is sitting in front of his untasted breakfast. Sergeant Benton shares his table.]

Harry / Henry :
I'm sorry. I can't eat a thing in this hotel. It's very strange.

Benton :
That's bad luck. But if you don't want that omelette, I'll see it doesn't go to waste.

Harry / Henry :
No, no, you take it.

[A huge hairy hand suddenly grabs him.]

François :
François hearing you badmouthing hotel. Not keen on hearing baseless allegations of appetite-spoiling and sleep deprivation. Nothing wrong with François hotel. Got that?

Harry / Henry :
Um. Sorry, but I can't help it if I...

François [gently shaking him] :
No unhealthy influence in any room. [With his free hand, he grabs Martha by the arm as she walks past.] Ah. Doctor Bruno. Very fortunate.

Martha / Doctor Bruno :
You're hurting me!

François :
Come and inspect dopey guest room. Tell us if room containing influences detrimental to health.

[Number Fourteen. Martha, still rubbing her bruised arm, looks around.]

Martha / Doctor Bruno :
I've been here before. When this was a palace. An English nobleman died here — Lord Montbarry.

Harry / Henry :
I say, what a strange coincidence. Perhaps I should take a different room...

[François threateningly raises his fist.]

Harry / Henry :
Or perhaps not. I know. I'll go to Padua for a few days.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
As soon as he left the hotel, he could eat and sleep normally again. The next day, a gentleman and his wife, with no connection to the Montbarry family, arrived at the hotel and occupied Number Fourteen. After their first night, the manager asked them how they found the room.

Donna :
The ceiling was too high, the walls were the wrong colour, the bed creaked all night — and as for the frescoes, well, I don't know what they consider appropriate in this part of the world, but I'd have the whole lot taken down. Kids might see them. Lee, you tell him.

Lee :
I d-d-do think D-d-d...

François [aside] :
Dear oh dear. Obviously more complaining guests. Perhaps will prove necessary to use big stick of customer service.

Donna :
... And whoever writes the menus should write them in English. [She takes a deep breath.] So... can we stay a day longer than we originally booked for?

François [aside] :
Grievance-ridden lady doubtless wishing to stay longer only to find more fault with hotel. Crazy like all humans.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
The next member of the family to arrive at the hotel was Lord Montbarry's widowed sister, Mrs. Norbury. By a strange coincidence, she showed up just as Number Fourteen became vacant.

[Sara Kingdom arrives at the hotel, passing Donna on her way out.]

Donna [calling over her shoulder] :
Thanks for a wonderful stay. We'll tell all our friends about your amazing hotel.

[François shows Sara / Mrs Norbury into Number Fourteen.]

Master / Narrator [vo] :
She found no trouble at all in sleeping. But she had eight solid hours of nightmares, and her maid noticed the next morning how ill she looked. The woman was of so superstitious a temperament that it would have been in the last degree indiscreet to trust her with the truth.

[Room Number Fourteen. Sara is sitting in bed shivering, clutching the blankets around her. Katarina enters.]

Katarina :
You do not seem well today, madam. You have the face of one who has looked on Pan in the night.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
What? Oh, nonsense. The, um, bed's too big. That's all.

[Jump cut; Sara is now dressed, and François is in the room.]

François :
If lady wish to try smaller bed, room directly above is available. Number Thirty-Eight.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
Yes, I think that might be an idea.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
Just for your information, Room Thirty-Eight was the one that Baron Rivar used, when the hotel was a palace. Anyway, it didn't make any difference.

[Room Thirty-Eight — the one with the huge marble fireplace. The door opens, revealing Katarina, fully dressed and compos mentis, and Sara, huddled in her dressing gown, dishevelled and hollow-eyed.]

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
All right, I know I haven't got the easiest conscience in the world, but wandering the hotel in the middle of the night has got to be a new low even for me. You knew this would happen, didn't you?

Katarina :
How could you tell?

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
I may be terrified half out of my wits or crazed with guilt, or both, but I'm not stupid. You were up and dressed and weren't surprised in the least when I showed up. What did you know?

Katarina :
You suffered from nightmares, then?

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
The same one, both nights. I saw my brother being murdered. In the same order, both times: He was starved, stabbed, drowned, burned, and poisoned. You think you can explain it, don't you?

Katarina :
Yes.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
You think I'm racked with guilt about killing my real-life brother, perhaps? Given that the Brigadier looks just like him?

Katarina :
I was not thinking of that. No, I was talking to the valet of one of the gentlemen staying here.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
And he said?

Katarina :
This is the hotel where the late Lord Montbarry died. The room you were in last night was his room. This room is the one just above it. I conclude that his unquiet spirit walks these halls, and no member of his family shall ever be happy or comfortable in this house.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
You're making this up.

Katarina :
I am not. For myself, if you intend to spend another night here, I shall be forced to tender my resignation.

Sara / Mrs Norbury :
Hmmph. Well, I'm not particularly keen on another night like this one. I might jump out of the window or anything. We will go to Milan and talk this over with Francis.

Master / Narrator [vo] :
But before they left, Mrs. Norbury's maid told the valet what had happened, and he spread the word, and eventually the manager got to hear of it.

[François stands outside Number Fourteen, in conversation with his sock puppet.]

François :
This not acceptable. Reputation of hotel will surely suffer. Cannot have people saying, Number Fourteen haunted by nightmare-inducing phantom. Not in keeping with reputation of hotel as up-and-coming tourist destination. Some form of ruse or diversion necessary here.

François [as Mr Moggie] :
<Elementary, dear François. Renumber room as 13A. No more room 14, no more stories of phantom. Cunning stratagem cannot fail.>

François :
But surely only complete idiot would fall for obvious trick like that?

François [as Mr Moggie] :
<Please to evaluate last remark in context of intelligence exhibited by Montbarry family members thus far in story.>

François [nodding sagely] :
Mr Moggie logic truly unimpeachable. Loyal employee Treader!

[Treader 27, a Discworld golem, lumbers in.]

François :
Treader, get enamel plate, of style similar to others in hotel, numbered 13A. Remove plate from this door. Substitute new plate. Screw original plate to François room. When job done, report to François in office. And bring more bottles of paint remover. François needing big drink.

"I have a few concerns," Izzy said.

The Master looked round, startled. He must have been absorbed in the story, or she'd never have managed to creep up on him like that.

"About the story?" he asked. "Or about me?"

"I'm not sure. But I heard what Victoria was like after your last visit."

"Don't tell me. She screamed and hid in a corner?"

"If only. She was bouncing off the walls — nearly gave Kiyone a nervous breakdown, and that's no easy matter. Whatever you did to her, don't do it again, or I won't let you tell any more of your story."

There were cries of disappointment from the children.

"Oh, if that's your only complaint, I'm sure something can be arranged," the Master said. "For a moment I thought you were worried about the ghosts, or the stolen breakfast, or the hotel manager drinking paint stripper."

He took his leave, ignoring Izzy's shocked "Drinking WHAT?"