Dark Side of the Street

looked down to the shadows at the bottom of the hill where headlights flared through the darkness.

'Could this be it?' Youngblood demanded.

Chavasse watched for a moment, eyes narrowed and then shook his head. 'I shouldn't imagine so. It looks like a petrol tanker to me.'

6

In a Lonely Place

The man who had impersonated Mackenzie turned on to the Great North Road, pulled up at the first roadside cafe he came to and went into a phone box. He made two calls and the first took some getting as it was apparently routed through a manual exchange. It was at least five minutes before a blunt Yorkshire voice sounded on the other end of the line and he cut in at once.

'That you, Mr. Crowther. Look, we've run into a little difficulty. That package you've been expecting-you'll actually be receiving two. Think you can handle them? We'll double your fee naturally.'

Crowther might have been discussing the price of cattle and his voice was completely matter-of-fact when he replied. 'I don't see why not. It might take a bit longer, that's all. We'll have to go careful. Another thing, my wife died yesterday.'

'Sorry to hear that.'

'We're burying her in the morning and that won't help. Still, leave it with me. I'm sure we'll manage.'

'I'll be in touch.'

He replaced the receiver and found some more change. This time he dialled a London number. The receiver was lifted at once at the other end and a woman said, 'World Wide Exports.'

'Hello, sweetie-Simon Vaughan speaking from dear old County Durham.'

'What happened? I've just been watching the news on television. It seems two birds have flown the coop, not one.'

'Couldn't be helped, I'm afraid. I'm not too happy about the additional package. Something about him seems wildly wrong to me. Still, it doesn't matter. Crowther's agreed to take on both of them-for twice his usual fee.'

'I'll pass the word along. What about the merchandise?'

'It's in a safe deposit in Jermyn Street under the name of Alfred Bonner. Not what we expected, by the way, but something equally as good.'

'What about a key?'

'The sister has it at 15, Wheeler Court, Bethnal Green. There shouldn't be any hitch there. She's expecting a caller.'

'Good-we'll pick it up right away. And Simon….'

'Yes, sweetie?'

'I'd check on Crowther tomorrow if I were you.'

'Exactly what I was thinking. I'll see you in church.'

As he walked back to his car, he whistled softly and there was a smile on his face.

When Chavasse climbed out of the tanker's secret compartment it had stopped raining and he waited for Youngblood to join him, shivering slightly in the chill wind. The driver dropped the hatch back into place and looked down at them.

'There's a track on the other side of the road. You'll be met. Good luck.'

He climbed back inside the cab, there was a hiss of air as he released the brakes and the tanker faded into the night.

Chavasse watched the red tail lights dwindle away and turned to Youngblood. 'What time is it?'

'Just coming up to half one.'

'Which means we were inside that sardine can for almost four hours. I reckon we must have covered the best part of a hundred and fifty miles.'

'I know one thing,' Youngblood said with feeling. 'It was never intended to hold two.'

Somewhere in the distance a dog barked hollowly and then a bank of cloud rolled away from the moon and the countryside was bathed in a hard white light. The night sky was incredibly beautiful with stars strung away to the horizon and hills lifted uneasily into the darkness all round.

'Where in the hell are we?' Youngblood demanded.

On the other side of the road, a stone rattled and a young woman moved out of the shadows. 'Is there anywhere in particular you'd like me to take you?'

Chavasse recognised her accent at once and turned to Youngblood. 'Some part of Yorkshire, that's certain.'

The girl wore a headscarf and an old raincoat and waited patiently, her face calm, touched with an impossible beauty by the hard white light of the moon.

'Babylon,' Youngblood said.

'Too far for me, but I can take you part of the way,' she said in her strange, dead voice.

She moved back up the track and Youngblood turned to Chavasse in exasperation. 'This whole bloody affair is getting more like something out of Alice in Wonderland every minute. We'll be meeting the White Rabbit next.'

'Or the Mad Hatter,' Chavasse said with a grin and went after the girl quickly.

Sam Crowther watched them coming along the track clear in the moonlight from the loft of his barn. 'Here they are,' he said softly.

There was a stirring in the darkness at his side and Billy leaned forward excitedly, saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

'Two nuts to crack this time, Billy,' Crowther said. 'But we'll manage, won't we? All in good time.'

He patted Billy on the shoulder and went down the ladder. As he emerged from the barn, the girl turned in through the gate, Chavasse and Youngblood followed her.

'Good lass, Molly,' Crowther said. 'You go in and make 'em some ham and eggs.'

The girl moved off without a word and Crowther turned with a big smile, holding out his hand. 'Mr. Youngblood and Mr. Drummond, I presume. There was so much about you two on the eleven o'clock news that I feel I've known you all my life. I'm Sam Crowther.'

Youngblood ignored the hand. 'And what's that?' He nodded to Billy who had just shambled out of the shadows of the barn.

'Only Billy, Mr. Youngblood. Only Billy.' Crowther chuckled and tapped his forehead significantly. 'He's not got all he needs upstairs, but he's as good as two ordinary men round the farm. But what are we standing round here for? You come on in and I'll show you your room. By the time you've washed up Molly will have a meal on the table, I've no doubt.'

'Your daughter?' Chavasse said as they went into the porch.

'That's it, Mr. Drummond. A good girl, our Molly.'

'She doesn't seem to have much to say for herself.'

'Not so surprising,' Crowther said piously. 'And her mother barely twenty-four hours cold.' There was a door to the left and he opened it to disclose a cheap deal coffin with gilt handles standing on a table. 'We're putting her under at the village church at ten o'clock in the morning. It's eight miles away so that means the hearse will be here at nine. You gentlemen will have to lay low till it's gone.'

He closed the door and led the way up a flight of narrow wooden stairs covered in cheap linoleum worn smooth by the years. The landing was long and narrow and he opened the door at the far end and switched on the light.

'I think you'll be comfortable enough here.'

There was an old double bed with a brass frame, a wardrobe and dressing table in Victorian mahogany and a marble washstand.

Youngblood unbuttoned his raincoat and threw it on the bed. 'And how long do we stay here?'