She could hear him fumbling around in his pockets, then realized that he had taken out a packet of cigarettes. She heard a click and saw the tiny flame reflected in the glass of the windscreen.
‘If you light that up in my car, I’ll shove it down your throat/ she said.
The man laughed, but let the flame die.
‘What are you doing here on your own?’ he said. ‘Where’s your partner? Aren’t you supposed to work in pairs? I mean, it can be a bit dangerous, can’t it? Especially for a female.’
‘Not for me.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I believe you, love. Thousands wouldn’t.’
‘I couldn’t give a damn what you believe. I’m not here to discuss your powers of perception, or even whether you’re able to see what’s in front of your face. But if you push me, you’ll find out.’
‘All right, all right. Keep your hair on.’
Fry turned away to stare out of the driver’s side window, as if she might be able to forget that he was there if she couldn’t see him out of the corner of her eye. But she was still aware of him through the small noises of his movements, the sound of his breathing, his male smell, and the sulphurous whiff of the match he had struck. She knew there were drops of rain glistening on his scalp among the freckles and the tufts of ginger hair, and she was aware of the dark, wet patches on the shoulders of his coat. And with two of them sitting in a stationary car, the interior was getting too warm from their body heat and the glass was starting to steam up. She wound down the window a couple of inches.
They were parked in a street between the dark, blank walls of crumbling factories. But straight ahead, she could see traffic lights and a busier road that was well lit, with cars passing constantly, and a row of terraced houses with flickering TV screens visible through their curtains and shadows passing in front of lamps in upstairs windows. One of the factories must have a night shift. She could hear the rumble of machinery from somewhere nearby.
‘A name?’ she said impatiently.
‘She’s living with a bloke called Akerman. Johnny Akerman.
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Not many folks will mess with him. He’s well known around those parts.’
‘Which parts?’
‘Eh?’
‘I need an address.’
‘I can’t tell you that, love.’
‘Look, don’t waste my time.’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘Can’t, or won’t?’
She felt him turning towards her in his seat. His knee touched the gear stick. A fold of his coat fell over the handbrake towards her, and she instinctively flicked it away. He was holding out his hands in a gesture of appeal, and his face was a pale smear that she was much too aware of. He was willing her to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t.
‘It’s not worth it/ he said. ‘It could get me a hell of a lot of bother. I mean, it’s not as if there’s anything in it for me, is there?’
‘Oh yes/ said Fry. ‘You’re going to feel a whole lot better, after you tell me.’
‘I don’t think so, darling.’
Fry pressed the button to close the central locking and reached out to start the ignition.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ he said.
‘I think we should go for a little ride.’
‘No way. I’m getting out.’
‘I suggest you put your seat belt on/ said Fry. ‘It’s not safe without, you know.’
‘For God’s sake ‘
She pulled out from the kerb and drove towards the lights at the end of the road.
‘This is the compromise/ she said. ‘And it’s entirely for your benefit. You say you can’t give me the address for this Akerman. OK. I accept that. So what we do instead is, we go for a little drive.’
‘Where to?’
‘You decide/ she said. ‘You give me directions.’
She could practically hear him working it out. He was wondering what the best way was to get out of this madwoman’s car.
‘Right, left or straight on at the lights?’ she said.
He was silent so long that she had almost reached the lights, and she was beginning to think that he wouldn’t go along with
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it. But he was, alter all, a man who didn’t answer questions too quickly.
