Sean dodged out of the missile’s way. Any of the rest of us would have been flattened.
“Don’t just stand there,” he shouted back over his shoulder. “Get after him.”
His words galvanised the rest of us into action. O’Bryan jumped into his car, fired it up and wheelspun away towards the end of the road, trying to head Roger off. Instead, the boy darted into one of the narrow ginnels that characterised both the estates. Sean went after him.
Madeleine and I broke into a run at about the same time, heading in a different direction to O’Bryan, so we’d got the exits covered whichever way Roger swerved.
“Why the hell’s he running?” Madeleine gasped as we sprinted along the cracked pavement.
I didn’t reply, saving my breath, but I remembered Roger’s desperation that Nasir should shoot me. His outraged anguish when the other boy had failed to do so. His sudden flight now raised more questions than it answered.
Were we chasing someone who might be a frightened witness.
Or a brutal murderer?
Fifteen
Madeleine and I reached the next corner together, rounded it, and kept on running. We got level with a galvanised steel railing that partially divided the gap between two houses. It was the other end of the ginnel into which Roger had dived, but when we looked there was no sign of either brother in the narrow passageway.
We’d so been expecting to see one or the other, that our stride faltered as though by prior agreement. We dropped back into little more than a trot, looking round at the myriad of different openings and possible exits that Roger could have taken.
“What now?” Madeleine asked, panting.
“It’s traditional that we split up, I suppose.”
She managed a grin. “I’d hate to break with tradition,” she said. She waved an arm at the choice of directions. “Any preferences?”
I shook my head, and she disappeared off towards the nearest ginnel. I couldn’t find it in me to like Madeleine as much as I probably could have done, under different circumstances. But on the other hand, I couldn’t bring myself to really dislike her, either.
I headed the opposite way, jogging to conserve my energy. Sean was built like a sprinter, and he’d always been fast, but it looked like his younger brother had the edge on him. I knew I didn’t stand a chance of catching them unless they’d slowed down first. There didn’t seem any point in going at it like an idiot.
I reached another corner, tossed a mental coin over which way to turn, and pressed on. By the time I’d made another three or four such arbitrary decisions, winding deeper into the estate with every one, the uneasy feeling grew that I wasn’t ever going to find my way out again.
Even by Copthorne standards, the streets I was moving into looked shabby, and run down. The cars parked by the weed-encrusted kerbs were rusting and half dismantled. I doubt they could have rustled up a valid tax disc between the lot of them. One had the entire front end missing, including the engine, leaving the inner wings and chassis poking up like a cannibalised jawbone.
“What are you doing here, Fox?” said a sudden voice. It was close enough behind me to make me start, and the tone was sneering. “Bit outside your territory, isn’t it?”
Memory clicked. “I go where I’m needed.” I didn’t need to turn round to identify the speaker, but I did so now anyway. “Hello Langford,” I said quietly.
He had popped up out of nowhere and was leaning against a gatepost a few feet behind me, grinning. The vigilante was wearing jeans and a heavy check shirt, which was the first time I’d seen him without his camouflage gear. He didn’t look any smaller, or less menacing, even in his civvies.
“You’re a real thrill-seeker, aren’t you, Fox?” he said. “Coming down here, wandering around in my territory, after that lucky punch you landed. Aren’t you scared I’ll hold a grudge?” He moved closer as he spoke, hands flexing by his sides.
“Enough people know where I am to make me feel safe,” I said, trying to stay calm and hoping that it was true.
Langford considered that one for a moment. I don’t know if the bush telegraph had told him who I’d been visiting on Copthorne, but if so, Sean was right about his reputation warding off evil.
It was enough to make Langford back off doing anything physical, at any rate. “Anyone causes me grief, I take care of them,” he said meaningfully, emphasising the point with a stabbing finger. “You just remember that, Fox.”
I ignored the irritating digit. “Like you offered to take care of Nasir Gadatra, you mean?” I let that one settle on him for a moment, then added, “You certainly found one of his ‘areas of weakness’, didn’t you, Harvey? Breathing, was it?”
He stiffened, but whether it was having his own words thrown back at him, or because I’d used his Christian name, I couldn’t tell. He decided, for the moment anyway, to let my over-familiarity ride.
“He was an interfering little git, and he got what was coming to him,” he said, but this time there was less conviction in his tone. He must have heard it, and went for bluster. “You ought to remember that, too, Fox. What happens to the nosy ones.”
I knew I ought to stop there. We were alone, in Langford’s province, and pushing him like this was a stupid, dangerous game to play, but I’d come too far to let the opportunity slip now. “He was nosy, was he, just like that Asian kid a few years back?” I reminded him, my voice cool and deliberate. “The one you set fire to?”
Langford straightened up, head on one side, and studied me through narrowed lids. “You want to be careful, making unfounded accusations like that,” he said at last. “It might get you into big trouble.”
“I don’t think it’s going to get me into trouble, but did Mr Ali know all about your National Front connections when you and he worked out your nice cosy little deal?”
Langford was standing close enough so that I could actually see him start to sweat. “Of course,” he said now, but he was lying. His association with Mr Ali gave him not just money, but influence, and Langford liked his power plays. He pulled a crumpled cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket, and lit one of the contents while I eyed him in silence.
“OK, Fox,” he said tightly, letting out the first gush of smoke, “how much do you want?”
I was surprised, and tried not to show it. “I don’t want your money, Langford, I want information. Give me a bigger fish than you, and I might not post a file full of your old newspaper clippings to Mr Ali.” Or improve my relationship with Superintendent MacMillan by dumping you straight into his lap, I added silently.
He nodded. “Like who’s really behind most of the crime round Lavindra Gardens, you mean?”
I hadn’t been expecting that one, either. “It would be a start,” I agreed.
He regarded me through the haze of smoke again. “If I get you that – and I’m not saying I can, mind,” he added quickly, “you’ll lay off Ali?”
“You’ve got my word on it.”
His smile was a twisted parody containing no trace of humour. “And I’m supposed to trust that?”
“You don’t have much of a choice.” I knew as soon as I’d spoken that it was a bad idea to provoke him too far. There was a dark glitter in his eyes that sent a spark of fear through me.
He snuffed out the end of the cigarette with a forefinger and thumb, then advanced a step. “I could always just make sure you’re not in any fit state to talk to anyone,” he said, sly.
“You can try it if you like,” said a cold voice from the other side of the narrow street, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
We turned to see Sean step off the far kerb, and cross the road towards us. He had that familiar head-down stance, moving with deceptive speed. I don’t know how long he’d been there. Neither of us had noticed his arrival.