Tooth & Nail

`You remember me?'

`I have an intimate knowledge of everyone on the Wolfman case. I've taken an interest in it from the start—for obvious reasons. There was always someone around willing to tell what they knew.'

`So you could keep one step ahead?'

`One step?' Chambers laughed. `You flatter yourself. So tell me, Inspector, what do we do now?' Do you stop your car—Edward's car, I should say—or do I kill your friend here? Do you know, she wanted to ask me about the psychology of court trials. She couldn't have picked better, could she, the little bitch?' Lisa was sobbing. Rebus could hear her, and every sound cut him a little deeper. `Picture in, the paper,' Chambers was cooing. `Picture in the paper with the big tough detective.'

Rebus knew he had to keep Chambers talking. By keeping him talking, he was keeping Lisa alive. But the traffic had stalled. Red lights ahead. The BMW only a few cars in front, prevented from jumping the lights by another car directly in front of it. Could he . . . ? Should he even be thinking of it? The judge was still gripping Rebus's headrest, staring out towards the gleaming black, car, the car that was so close to them. So close . . . and so stationary.

`Well?' It was Chambers's voice. 'Do you pull over, Inspector, or do I kill her?'

Rebus was staring hard at Chambers's car. He could see that Lisa was leaning away from Chambers, as though making to escape. But Chambers was gripping her with his left arm, his right presumably resting on the steering wheel. So the man's attention would be focussed on the passenger side of the car, leaving the driver's side unguarded.

Rebus made up his mind and quietly opened his door, slipping out onto the reassuringly solid surface of the road. Horns were sounding around him. He paid them no heed. The lights were still at red. He began to move forward,'crouching, but moving quickly. Chambers' driver's-side mirror! If Chambers looked into it, he'd have a clear view of Rebus's approach. Make it fast, John, make it.

Amber.

Shit!

Green.

He had reached the BMW, had gripped the doorhandle. Chambers looked out at him, a stunned expression on his face. And then the car in front moved off, and Chambers gunned the engine, the car accelerating forwards, tearing itself free of Rebus.

Shit! Car horns all around. Angry. Angry drivers rolling down their windows and yelling at him as he ran back to the Jaguar. Started the car, moved off. The judge's hand patted his shoulder.

`Good try, my boy. 'Good try.'

And Chambers' laughter on the car-phone. `Hope I didn't hurt you, Inspector.' Rebus examined his hand, flexed it painfully. The fingers had nearly been pulled out of their joints. His little finger was swelling already. A break? Perhaps.

`So,' said Chambers, 'for the last time. I make you an offer you can hardly refuse. Stop the car, or I kill Dr Frazer.'

`She's not a doctor, Chambers. She's just a student.' He swallowed: now Lisa knew that he knew. Not that it mattered one way or the other, not now. He took a deep breath. `Kill her,' he said. Behind him, the judge gasped, but Rebus shook his bead, reassuring him.

`What did you say?' asked Chambers.

`I said kill her. I'm not really bothered. She's led me a merry little dance this past week. It's her own fault she's in this deep. And after you've killed her, I'll take great pleasure in killing you, Mr Chambers.'

He heard Lisa's faint voice again. `God, John, please no!' And then Chambers, seeming to grow calmer as Rebus grew more excited `As you wish, Inspector. As you wish.' The voice was as cold as a mortuary floor, any vestige of humanity gone. Perhaps partly it was Rebus's fault, taunting him with newspaper stories, with fabrications. But Chambers hadn't picked on Rebus: he had picked on Lisa. Had Rebus arrived a minute later at the Old Bailey, she would be on her way to certain death. As it was, nothing was certain.

Nothing but the fact of Malcolm Chambers's madness.

`He's turning onto Monmouth Street,' said the judge, his voice level. He had grasped the fact of Chambers's guilt, the horror of what had happened and what might still happen.

Rebus heard a flapping sound overhead, and glanced up towards where a helicopter was shadowing the chase. A police helicopter. He could hear sirens, too. So, it seemed, could Chambers. The BMW spurted ahead, slashing the side of another car as it squeezed into a space. The injured car stopped dead. Rebus braked, pulled on the steering wheel, but still clipped it with his driver's-side bumper, the headlamp shattering.

`Sorry about that.'

`Never mind the car,' said the judge. `Just don't let him get away'

`He won't get away,' said Rebus, with sudden confi?dence. Now where the hell had that come from? The moment he thought about it, it disappeared again, leaving behind a quivering vapour.