Diamond Dust

'Which way do you reckon?'

'The A3 to London, I guess.'

Instead she turned south and immediately accelerated. 'Hope your motor is up to this, Peter,' Stormy said, putting his foot down.

Diamond braced. 'The motor may be, but don't count on the owner.'

'Got to keep her in sight. Do you think she spotted us?'

'She doesn't know us or the car. She's burning rubber for the hell of it.' He hunched down in the seat with arms folded, trying not to watch the speedometer.

They had some overtaking to do. Fortunately, the Portsmouth Road is as good as a motorway in places. Stormy drove with skill and nice judgement, getting the best out of Diamond's old Cortina, staying within sight of the Alfa Romeo without being too obvious about it. Right up the steep approach to Hindhead and the Devil's Punch Bowl the Cortina had power in reserve. 'This old heap handles well, Peter.'

'It gets good treatment - usually.'

'Who is this woman?'

'Never seen her before.'

'Heigh-ho, she's turning left at the lights.' Stormy jerked the car into the left lane and took the turn tightly, tyres screaming. They were now on a narrow two-way stretch through a wooded area, and she hadn't cut her speed.

'Think she's spotted us yet?' Stormy asked.

'I told you. She won't know who we are.'

'It's mutual.'

They passed more than one sign to Haslemere. 'We're still going south,' Diamond said.

'Now she's using a car-phone.'

'Bloody dangerous at this speed.'

'Maybe she noticed us.'

In another mile the brake-lights of the convertible suddenly blazed for no obvious reason. It happened twice.

'She's looking for somewhere to turn off,' Stormy said.

'Don't crowd her, then.'

When they crested the next hill the Alfa Romeo was no longer in sight.

'What the fuck . . . ?'

'Slow up, man. There's got to be a turn here,' Diamond said.

A narrow lane came up on the right, and Stormy did well to spot it and make the turn. They hadn't travelled more than sixty yards when there was a flash of metal ahead and another vehicle came fast towards them, so fast that they were forced off the hard surface onto a mud path, the wheels skidding and screeching against the wood of a low hedge. A white Mercedes with a woman at the wheel. A mop of dark hair in wisps, pale, staring face, turquoise top.

'She's switched cars.'

'Flaming hell.'

She was past, heading for the road they'd just left and there was nowhere to turn. Diamond swung around in his seat and watched the Mercedes through the rear window. 'Back up. Reverse.'

Stormy slammed into reverse and steered them back towards the road whilst Diamond strained to see which direction the Mercedes would take at the top of the lane.

'Right. She's gone right.'

'Say your prayers, then. We're going arse-out into the road.'

By a miracle nothing was passing when they did. Stormy spun the wheel again and they zoomed off in the direction the woman had taken. Two cars were on the road ahead. Neither was a white Mercedes.

'How did she do that?' Stormy shouted over the acceleration.

'Switch cars? Trying to shake us off, I suppose.'

'I didn't say why. I said how.'

'Someone must have had it ready. That phone call from the car?'

'Whatever, she's left us for dead.'

They overtook the two cars. Nothing else was in view.

'Have you thought why we're risking our bloody lives?' Diamond said as they hurtled along well in excess of the speed limit. 'We're chasing a woman who might or might not lead us to another woman who might or might not be able to tell us the whereabouts of a man who might or might not have committed murder.'

'Want to give up?'

'No. Keep going.'