Case Histories

"In the hospital," Jackson said.

"Again?"

"Yeah, again."

Jackson discharged himself against the hospital's advice. The only way they could be mollified was by Howell promising to drive him to Northumberland to pick up Marlee and then home to Cambridge.

"Christ, Jackson," Howell said as he eased his huge frame into the driver's seat of the Punto. "What happened, have you turned into a woman?"

"Worse things could happen," Jackson said. "I can drive."

"No, you can't." Howell raked through Jackson 's CDs. "You still listening to this shit, Jackson?"

"Yes."

Howell tossed Trisha and Lucinda and Emmylou and the rest of the women in pain onto the backseat and put on one of Marlee's Christina Aguilera CDs. By the time he'd played it three times they were up the Al and almost back in the middle of nowhere again.

"You don't have to do this," Jackson said.

"Yes, I do, I'm your friend. Anyway I could do with a break, bit of culture, city of dreaming spires and all that."

"I think that's Oxford."

"Same difference," Howell said. "Who's trying to kill you?"

"Guy in a gold Lexus."

"That would be the one that's following us, then?" Howell said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Jackson tried to turn round to see but his neck didn't really turn anymore. Howell read out the number plate.

"Yeah, that's the one." Jackson reached for his phone and said, "Don't turn off the main road," just as Howell swung a sudden violent left onto the slip road.

"Why not?" Howell said. "We'll lead the Lexus somewhere quiet, a nice country lane, and then we'll deal with him."

"Deal with him?" Jackson said. "As in what, take him out?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking anything that drastic, but if you want, yeah, why not?" Howell said.

"No, I don't want. I want everything done by the book. I'm going to call it in. There's a warrant out for the guy's arrest."

"You're such a policeman, Jackson."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a policeman, I've turned into a woman, I'm pussy whipped, and I carry an organ-donor card. It's called middle age."

The Lexus was glued to their tail. Jackson turned the rearview mirror so that he could catch a glimpse of Quintus. His posh moon face was choleric. Jackson couldn't imagine what it was he'd done that had enraged the guy so much.

They could hear sirens in the distance. Jackson stayed on the phone with the dispatcher, although he was having a hard time giving her an idea of their position. They were on a narrow road now, made narrower by the overgrown hedgerows. Howell was driving as if he were playing Grand Theft Auto. They turned a sharp bend and found themselves almost bonnet to bonnet with a silver Mercedes SL 500 sports car being driven at equal speed. Jackson closed his eyes and braced himself, but somehow or other the driver of the Mercedes went to her left and Howell went to his left – it felt to Jackson as if they were on the Wall of Death – and they missed each other by a feather. "Fucking hell," Howell said admiringly, "what a babe, what a driver, what a car." "Jesus," Jackson said. He looked at his hands – they were actually shaking.

The Lexus seemed to have disappeared off the radar. Howell stopped the Punto and reversed cautiously back up the road and round the bend. The sound of police sirens was growing progressively nearer. The Lexus had managed to avoid the Mercedes but not the bend and had plowed relatively harmlessly into the overgrown hedge, where it was caught like an insect in a net. Quintus could just be seen inside, pushing helplessly at the door.

A couple of traffic cars appeared, followed by a plainclothes patrol car, all of them slewing to a stop in an overexcited way. An approaching police helicopter added to the sense of adrenalin-filled drama. Jackson knew how much they'd be loving this, anything that was out of the routine of speeding tickets and the misery of road accidents.

Howell and Jackson got out of the car and walked over to the Lexus. "Why does he want to kill you, anyway?" Howell asked.

"I've got no idea," Jackson said. "Let's ask him."

And when you see your mother," Jackson said to Marlee, "it might be a good idea not to show off your Russian to her." "Why not?"

"Because…" Jackson frowned, thinking of all the things he really didn't want Josie to know. "Just because. Okay, sweetheart?" She looked doubtful. Jackson gave her a ten-pound note. "Spaseeba," Marlee said.

When Jackson had phoned Theo from the hospital Theo told him that Lily-Rose, the yellow-haired girl, was staying with him. Jackson didn't know what to make of that, but as it wasn't anything to do with him he decided not to think much about it at all. He was trying not to think too much because thinking did actually physically hurt his brain. He said to Theo, "That's good," and hoped it was.