`Oh shit,' he said again.
The judge was staring out of the rear window. `I think she's all right,' he said.
`John?' It was Flight's tin-can voice on the line. `Who was that speaking?'
`Oh,' said Rebus. `That was the judge. It's his Jaguar I've commandeered.' He had found the windscreen wiper switch and was letting them deal with the pancake mixture on the windscreen.
`You what?' So that was what a roar sounded like. The BMW was still in sight. But it had slowed a little, perhaps aware of the incident behind it.
`Never mind,' said Rebus. `Look, just get some patrol cars up here. We're on . . . ' He glanced out of windscreen and side window, but could see no street signs.
`High Holborn,' said the judge.
`Thanks,' said Rebus. `We're on High Holborn, George.'
`Wait a second,' said Flight. There was a muffled exchange at his end of the line. Then he came back on again. He sounded tired. `Please, John, tell me it isn't you behind these reports we're getting. The switchboards are lighting up like Christmas trees.'
`That's probably us, George. We took a bollard out a little way back, caused a couple of accidents and now we've just sent an old woman's messages flying everywhere. Yes, that's us.'
If Flight groaned, he did so quietly. Then: `What if it's not him, John? What if you're wrong?'
`Then it's all a bit of a balls-up, George, and I'll probably get to see what the inside of a dole office looks like, if not a prison cell. Meanwhile, get those coppers down here!' Rebus looked at the handset. `Judge, help me. How do I—'
`Just press Power.' Rebus did, and the illuminated digits faded.
`Thanks,' he said.
The traffic was slowing, a jam of lights up ahead. And the judge was saying, `if you intend using the apparatus again, I should probably inform you that it can be used in hands-free mode. Just dial and leave it in its little compartment there. You'll be able to hear the caller and they'll be able to hear you.' Rebus nodded his thanks. The judge's head was close to Rebus's ear, peering, over his shoulder at the road ahead.
`So,' he said excitedly, `you think Malcolm Chambers is behind, all these killings?'
`That's right.'
`And what evidence do you have, Inspector?'
Rebus laughed, and tapped his head. `Just this, your lordship, just this.'
`Remarkable,' said the judge. He seemed to be considering something. `I' always thought Malcolm was rather an odd young man. Fine in court, of course, very much the star prosecutor, playing to the gallery and what have you. But outside the courtroom, he seemed very different. Oh, very different indeed. Almost sullen, as though his mind were wandering.
His mind had wandered all right, thought Rebus, wandered all the way over the edge.
`Would you like to speak to him?'
`You think. I'm chasing him for a bet?'
The judge chuckled, pointing to the car-phone. `I meant talk to him right now.'
Rebus went rigid. `You mean you've got his number?’
‘Oh yes.'
Rebus thought it over, but shook his head. `No,' he said. `He's got someone with him. An innocent woman. I don't want to panic him.'
`I see,' said the judge, settling back again. `Yes, I suppose you're right. I hadn't thought of that.'
And then there was an electric purring inside the car was the phone, its display illuminated now and flashing. Rebus handed the set to the judge.
`Probably for you,' he said drily.
`No,' said the judge, `just put it back and press Receive.'
Rebus did so. Only then did the judge speak. `Hello?' The voice was clear, the reception signal strong.
`Edward? Is that you following me?'
It was Chambers' voice, sounding amused about something. The judge stared at Rebus, who could offer no suggestion, for an answer.
`Malcolm?' said the judge, his composure intact. `Is that you?'
.'You should know. You're only about twenty yards behind me.'
`Am I? Which road are you on?'
The voice altered, taking on an edge of sudden viciousness. `Don't fuck with me, Ted! Who's driving the fucking car? Can't be you, you haven't even got a licence. Who is it?'
The judge looked to Rebus again, seeking guidance. They listened together in silence and heard Lisa's faint voice.
`What's going on?' she was saying. `What's happening?'
