The Lucy Ghosts

'What ceremony?' interjected Adam.

'Some trade treaty between Europe, America and Russia. The first step in a world market. That's what the papers say. Big big deal. Can't be that good. Not with the Russians in it. They'll fuck it up like they fucked up the rest of us.'

'When is this ceremony?'

'Tomorrow. Every bigwig in the world's going to be there.'

'That's it.' Adam turned and directed his remark in English to Billie. 'Got to be.'

'It's too big now,' replied Billie. 'We've got to pass it on.'

'Can't just walk up to the police. Not with Goodenache's murder around our necks. It'd take too long,' responded Adam.

'I thought you said the police weren't after you.' Bernard was suddenly concerned. They realised he understood English.

'Nothing we did,' Adam reassured him. He turned back to Billie. 'Go through the embassies. That's the only way. Contact our intelligence people.' He pointed to the portable that was still slung round Bernard's neck. 'Let me use the phone.'

'Doesn't work.' Bernard shrugged. 'I stole it.'

'You're a bigger crook than…'

'If I'm going to be a businessman, then I need to look like one. At least I didn't murder anyone.'

'Neither did we. Look, we need to find where the British or American embassies ar…'

A police siren cut across Adam as the green BMW it was attached to swung behind them, its blue light and flashing headlights insisting they pull over.

'Christ!' swore Adam.

'Maybe I should tell you. The car's also hot,' shrugged Bernard as he pulled into the kerb. 'Fucking bailiffs.'

The police car stopped in front of them. Adam turned and gave Billie a warning glance as two policeman climbed out and came towards them. Adam noticed one of them had unfastened his holster button; they weren't expecting trouble but they were prepared for it.

One of the policemen signalled Bernard out of the car.

'Stay put,' Adam told Billie as Bernard opened his door and clambered out.

'Licence!' demanded the policeman.

Bernard took out his driver's licence and handed it over.

'Where've you come from?' asked the second officer as his colleague examined the document.

'Leipzig,' lied Bernard.

'This isn't the Leipzig road.'

'Via Dresden. To see some friends.'

'Let's see your insurance and registration documents,' said the first policeman as he handed back the licence.

'I left them at home.'

'The law requires you carry them with you.'

'My mistake.'

'The rules are for your own good. You Ossies should understand that.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It is your car, isn't it?' As the first officer spoke, his colleague walked round to the passenger door and looked into the car. Adam and Billie smiled back.

'Of course.'

'What do you lot do?' asked the second officer across the top of the Trabant.

'I'm a salesman.'

'And your friends?'

Bernard paused. Maybe they didn't know the car was stolen. Maybe it had just been a routine check. Maybe the condition of his passengers had alerted the policeman. 'Friends. I picked them up in Dresden.'

The pause had been too long. The second policeman, now suspicious, leant down and opened the passenger door. 'Would you mind getting out. I'd like to run a check on the car.' Adam knew that was only a ploy. The check was on them.

'You stay here,' said the first policeman to Bernard. 'I'm going to radio in and run a computer check on the car,' he shouted across at his colleague as Adam and Billie stood on the pavement.

'Where're you from?' the first officer asked Adam.

'Dresden.' Adam saw the suspicion build in the policeman's eyes as he looked him over. Christ Marcus, I must look terrible. Unshaven, in army fatigues, ill fitting boots. He probably thinks I'm a deserter.

'You in the Army?' The policeman suddenly wondered if Adam really was a deserter.

'No.'

'You always dress like that?'

'It's cheap.'

'You're not German?'

'No. British. We're wandering around Europe.'

'Let's see your passport.'

'Not here. In Dresden. '

'Have you got yours?' he turned to Billie.

'No. It's with his.'

The policeman suddenly remembered his morning briefing. He cursed himself for not remembering, cursed his tiredness because he was about to go off duty. These were the two. The ones they'd been told to watch out for. He looked towards his partner and saw he was leaning inside the BMW, talking on the radio. He decided to wait for him. The Englishman could be dangerous. He smirked, felt smug, saw the door of promotion opening. 'All right,' he said. 'You don't need passports if you're community members. But you should always carry some identity. For your own good.'

'Fine,' smiled Adam. He knew he'd been recognised. 'Won't happen again.' Out of the corner of his eye he saw the first officer scramble out of the BMW, noted the sudden urgency in his movement.

'Hey,' he heard him shout across to Bernard. 'Did you say that car's yours?'

'Yes,' replied an anxious Bernard.

'Our computer says the car was stolen in Cotbus this morning.'

'Can't be.'

'Shit,' warned the officer next to Adam as he realised that things were starting to go wrong. He reached for his revolver, but was too late. Adam had swung behind him, pinned his arms to his side and lifted out the revolver into his own hand. He stood behind the policeman and pointed the barrel straight at his temple.

'If you value your partner's life, don't draw your weapon,' he warned the other officer.

There was no hesitation. The policeman stopped where he was, his hands now held high. Behind him, on the pavement, a woman screamed and what few passers-by there were panicked away from the scene. One woman, her plastic shopping bag in her hand, stayed frozen to the spot under a lamp post near the BMW. She was too frightened to run away.

'Nothing to do with me,' shouted Bernard, turning and running down the street. 'Crazy people. I only gave them a lift.'

'Step away from the car,' ordered Adam, pushing his hostage forward in front of him, edging towards the BMW. 'Are the keys in?'

The policeman, with his hands still held high, moved away from the car. 'Yes,' he replied.

'Billie, get into the driver's seat. Start her up.'

Billie stepped out from behind him and walked quickly to the car. As she got to the open door, the second policeman suddenly flung himself at her, pulling her down into the road, drawing his pistol as he did. Adam fired at him, but unused to the German police issue 9mm Glock 17 and not wanting to hit Billie, missed. His hostage started to struggle and Adam rammed the gun hard under his chin. The officer stopped battling as his partner dragged Billie towards the protection of the front of the car, his drawn gun now held at her body.

Bloody stand-off, Marcus.

'Let my partner go,' the policeman shouted. 'You can't win.'

Adam knew they wouldn't shoot Billie. It wasn't how they were trained. He pushed his hostage forward towards the open door, shielding himself with the policeman from the other. Then he leant in and, with his free hand turned the ignition key. 'Let her go,' he shouted to the second officer. 'I know you won't shoot her. But I'll kill this bastard. That's for sure.'

'Tell them,' argued Billie. 'Get them to call the embassy.'

'It won't work.'

'Please, Adam. It's the only way.'

'Can't take the chance. Let her go.' He pushed the gun harder into his hostage's chin. 'I've nothing to lose.' To reinforce his point, he swung the gun away and fired a shot towards the woman under the lamp-post. He aimed to miss, but the policeman didn't know that. The shot ricocheted off the metal post, harmlessly away from the sobbing woman who had shut her eyes and was praying to her God. 'I told you I've got nothing to lose.'