'Howmanyofthem?'

'Therehadtobetwoatleast.Ifnot,whybothertotalk?'

'Areyousurethat'swhattheysaid?'

'Prettysure.'

'Whatsortofaccent?Didyouknowthevoice?'

'No.'Iansweredthesecondfirst.'NotanEtonaccent.Rough,sortof.'

Lizziesaid,'You'llhavetotellthepolice.'

Iwa.s.silent,andsheglancedatmetoolengthily,evenforlighttraffic.

'You'llhaveto,'shesaid.

'Keepyoureyesontheroad.'

'You'reas.h.i.t.'

'Yep.'

Shedrove,however,withmoreattentiontogettingushomesafelyandIwonderedwhatgooditmightreallydoifIbotheredtotellthepolice.

Theywouldtakeastatement.Theymightcheckwiththenight.w.a.tchmanthatIhadinfactcrawledoutofSouthamptonWater.IcouldtellthemthatasIhadn'tknownuntilfiveminutesbeforehandthatIwasgoingalongtothefarmyard,therehadn'tbeenanysortofpremeditatedambush.I'dwalkedinwhenIwasunexpectedandbeensmartlypreventedfromfindingoutwhowasthereandwhattheyweredoing.

TakingmetoSouthamptonmustequallyhavebeenimpulsive.Throwingmeinalivebutapparentlyunconsciousmeanttheyhadn'tmuchcaredifIlivedordied...almostasiftheyhadn'tmadeuptheirmindsonthatpointandwereleavingittofate.

Nonsensical,asLizzie'dsaid.Anyone,especiallythepolice,wouldbesceptical.Andwhatwouldtheforcedoabout.i.t?Theycouldn'tandwouldn'tguardmedayandnightagainstillogicalpossibleattemptedmurder.IfIdidn'twalkunexpectedlyintoshadowsatnight,whyshouldanyoneattackmeagain?

Probablyalotofthatcreakyreasoningwastheresultofconcussion.Morelikelyitstemmedfromtheusualaversiontolessthanfriendlyquestioning,wherecrimewa.s.seentobethefaultofthevictim.

Igingerlyfeltthebackofmybythenmutedly-throbbinghead,wincingattheactualcontact.Anybloodthathadbeentherehadbeenwashedaway.Myhairhaddried.Therewasalumpandasoreness,butnogapingcutandnodentinmyskull.Asinjurieswent,comparedwiththea.s.saultsofsteeplechasing,itwasofthe'it'llbeallrighttomorrow'kind.Tohavebeenknockedoutracingmeanttobegroundedbythedoctorsforuptothreeweeks.Iwouldgroundmyselffortherestofthenight,Ithought,andmaybeIwouldn'tgotoCheltenhamuntilThursday.Thatshoulddoit.

TheFourtrakhummedushome,theroaddirect.SouthamptonDockswasthenearestdeepwatertoPixhill:thenearesttidalplacewhereunseenbodiescouldwashoutontheebbbeforedawn.

Stopthinkingabout.i.t,Itoldmyself.Iwasaliveanddryandnightmarescouldwait.

Lizzieturnedintothedrivewayandcurledroundthehouseandwefoundsomethingabsolutelyrottenhadhappenedwhilewe'dbeenaway.

MyJaguarXJS,mybeautifulcar,hadbeenrunatfulltiltintoLizzie'sRobinson22.Thetwosweetmachinesweretangledtogether,lockedindeepmetallicembrace,bothtwistedandcrushed,theJaguar'sbuckledbonnetrisingintothehelicopter'scab,whoseroundbubblefronthadbeensmashedintojaggedpieces.Thelandingstrutshadbuckledsothattheaircraft'sweightsankintothecar'sroof;therotorbladesweretiltedatacrazyangle,oneofthemsnappedoffontheground.

Allonecouldsaywasthatnothinghadcaughtfireorexploded.Ineveryotherway,thetwofastengines,ourpleasure,oursoul-mates,weredead.

Thehouse'soutsidelightswereon,raisinggleamsonthedoublewreck.Itwa.s.spectacular,inamacabresortofway;ashiningunion.

LizziebrakedtheFourtraktoajoltinghaltandsathandovermouth,disbelievinglystunned.Islowlysteppeddownfromthepa.s.senger'sseatandwalkedtowardsthemess,b.u.t.therewasnothingtobedone.Itwouldtakeacraneandatow-trucktotearthatmarriageapart.

IwalkedbacktowardsLizziewhowa.s.standingonthetarmacsaying'Oh,myG.o.d,ohmyG.o.d...'andtryingnottoweep.Putmyarmsroundher.Shesobbeddrylyagainstmychest.

'Why?'Shechokedontheword.'Why?'

Ihadnoanswer,justanache,forher,forme,forthewantondestructionofefficiency.

InLizziethegriefturnedquicklytorageandtohatredandtohungerforrevenge.

I'llkilltheb.a.s.t.a.r.d.I'llkillhim.I'llcuthisthroat.'

Shewalkedroundthehelicopterbangingitwithherfist.

'Ilovethisb.l.o.o.d.ymachine.Iloveit.I'llkilltheb.a.s.t.a.r.d...'

Ifeltmuchthesame.Ithoughtmutelythatatleastweourselveswerealive,eventhoughinmycaseonlyjust,andthatperhaps,thatwasenough.

Isaid,'Lizzie,comeaway,there'sfuelinthetanks.'

'Ican'tsmellany.'Shecametomyside,however.'I'msofuriousIcouldburst.'

'Comeinsideandhaveadrink.'

Shewalkedjerkilywithmetothebackdoor.

Thedoorhadapaneofgla.s.sbroken.

'Ohno!'Lizziesaid.

Itriedthehandle.Open.

'Ilockedit,'shesaid.

'Mm.'

Ithadtobefaced.Iwentintothebigroomandtriedtoswitchonalight.Theswitchhadbeenhackedoutofthewall.Itwasonlybymoonlightthatonecouldseethedevastation.

Ataguess,ithadbeendoneinafrenzy,withanaxe.Thingsweren'tjustbroken,butslicedopen.Therewaslightenoughtoseetheslashesinthefurniture,thesmashedtablelamps,theruinofthetelevisionset,thecomputermonitorslicedintwo,theripsinmyleatherchair,therawpiecesgougedoutofmyantiquedesk.

Everything,itseemed,hadbeenattacked.Booksandpaperslayrippedonthefloor.ThedaffodilsI'dpickedforLizziehadbeenstampedon,theWaterfordvasethathadheldthemcrushedtoslivers.

Theframedphotographsofmyracingdayswereoffthewallsandbeyondrepair.Ourmother'srarecollectionofchinabirdswashistory.

ItwasthebirdsthatseemedtoupsetLizziemost.Shesatonthefloorwithtearsrunningintohermouth,holdingthepatheticirreplaceablepiecestoherlipsasiftocomfortthem.Grievingforourchildhood,forourparents,forlifegoneby.

Iwentonawanderroundtherestofthehousebutnootherroomshadbeeninvaded:onlytheheartofthings,whereIlived.

Thetelephoneonmydeskwouldneverringagain.Theansweringmachinehadbeenhackedintwo.IwentouttothephoneintheFourtrakandwokeSandySmith.

'Sorry,'Isaid.

Hecameinhiscarwithhisuniformpulledonoverhispyjamas,thenavybluejacketunb.u.t.toned,hairychestvisible.HestoodlookinginaweattheamalgamofJaguarandhelicopter,andbroughtatorchwithhimintothehouse.

ThebeamshoneonLizzie,thebirds,thetears.

'Doneyouproper,'Sandysaidtome,andInodded.

'Morning,miss,'hesaidtoLizzie,thepolitegreetingbizarreb.u.t.theintentionkindenough.

Tomehesaid,'Doyouknowwhodidit?'

'No.'

'Vandalism,'hesaid.'Nasty.'

Ifeltthemostappalling,heart-b.u.mpingapprehensionandaskedhimtodrivedownwithmetothefarmyard.

Heunderstoodmyfearandagreedtogoatonce.Lizziestoodup,stillholdingawingandabird'sheadandsaidshewouldcomewithus,wecouldn'tleaveheraloneinthehouse.

WewentinSandy'scar,itslightsflashingbut.i.tssirensilent.Thefarmyardgatesstillstoodopen,b.u.t.tomyalmostsickreliefthehorseboxesthemselveswereuntouched.

Theofficeswerelocked.Mykeyshadlongvanishedbut,seendimlythroughwindows,thethreeroomslookedasorderlyasusual.Thecanteen,dooropen,hadbeenleftalone.

Iwentalongtothebarn.Thetoolstorewa.s.secure.Nothinglookedoutofplace.IwentbacktoSandyandLizzieandreported:nodamageandnooneabout.

Sandystaredatmestrangely.

'MissCroft,'hesaid,'tellsmesomeonetriedtokillyou.'

'Lizzie!'Iprotested.

Lizziesaid,'ConstableSmithwantedtoknowwherewewerewhenallthat...thatwickeddestruction...wasgoingonatthehouse.Ihadtotellhim.Icouldn'tavoidit.'

Idon'tknowthatanyoneactuallymeanttokillme,'Isaid.ItoldSandybrieflyaboutwakingupinSouthampton.'Maybethereasonfortakingmetherewastogivetimeforattackingmyhouse.'

Sandythoughtthingsover,b.u.t.tonedhistunicabsent-mindedlyandannouncedthatallthingsconsideredhehadbetterreporttohisheadquarters.

'Can't.i.twaittilllaterthismorning?'Isaid.'Icoulddowithsomesleep.'

'You'vehadtwodeadmenonyourpremisessincelastThursday,'Sandypointedout.'Andnowthis.I'llbeintrouble,Freddie,ifIdon'treport.i.tatonce.'

'Thetwodeadmenwereaccidental.'

'Yourhouseisn't.'

Ishruggedandleanedonhiscarwhilehetelephoned.No,hewa.s.saying,noonewasdead,noonewasinjured,thedamagewastoproperty.Hegavetheaddressofmyhouseandlistenedtoinstructions,relayingthemtomeafter.Ineffect,twoplainclothesdetectiveswouldcomeinduecourse.

'Howlongisduecourse?'Lizzieasked.

'There'samajorflaponinWinchester,'Sandysaid.'So...whenevertheycan.'

'Whydoyousaynoonewasinjured?'Lizziesoundedindignant.'Freddiewasinjured.'

Sandyeyedmewithlongknowledge.'Injuredtohimmeansbothlegsbrokenandhisgutshangingout.'

'Men!'Lizziesaid.

Sandysaidtome,'DoyouwantmetocalloutDocFarway?'

'No,Idon't.'

HelistenedtomyemphaticreplyandsmiledatLizzie.'See?'

'Whattimeisit?'Iasked.

SandyandLizziebothlookedattheirwatches.'Threethirty-two,'Sandysaidwithprecision.'Mymessagetoheadquarterswastimedatthreetwenty-six.'

StillleaningonSandy'scar,Icouldn'tdecidewhichtoguard,mybusinessormyhome.Thedamagealreadydonemightnotbeall.Withsuchwantonpointlessbehavioura.s.stampingondaffodils,logicalpredictioncouldgetnowhere.Thegraffitimind,theurgetothrowstonesatwindows,looting,destructionforitsownsake,theywerethenaturalgleeofuntamedhumanity.Itwascivilisationandsocialconsciencethatwereartificial.

ThesidedoorofHarve'shouseopeneddirectlyintothefarmyard.Hecamehurryingoutinjeans,shrugginghisarmsintoananorak,anxietyplain.

'Freddie!Sandy!'Hisreliefwaspartial.'Oneofmykidsgotupforapeeandwokemetosaytherewasapolicecarbythehorseboxes.What'shappened?'Helookedalongtheintactrowofvehiclesandrepeated,puzzled,'What'sthematter?'

'Somevandalsbrokeintomyhouse,'Iexplained.'Wecametoseeifthey'dbeenheretoo,b.u.t.theyhaven't.'

Harvelookedmoreworried,notless.

'Iwalkedroundlate,'hesaid.'ItwasallOK.'

'Whattime?'Iasked.

'Oh,I'dsayaboutten.'

'Um,'Isaid,'youweren'toutherebyanychanceanhourorsolater?Youdidn'thearanything?'

Heshookhishead.'WhenIwentinIwatchedavideoofafootballmatchforawhile,andwenttobed.'Hestilllookedanxious.'Why?'

'Icamehereatroughlyhalf-eleven.Thegateswereopenandsomeonewasmovingabout.Ithought.i.twasyou.'

'No,notthatlate.Ishutthegateatten.Everyonewasbackbythen,see?'

'Thanks,Harve.'

'Whowashereathalf-eleven?'hedemanded.

'That'sratherthepoint,Idon'tknow.Ididn'tseeanyonecloseenoughtorecognisewhetherIknewthemornot.'

'Butiftheydidn'tdoanydamage...'Harvefrowned,'whatweretheyherefor?'

ItwasaquestionworthansweringbutIwasnotatthatmomentgoingtoputforwardtheonereasonIcouldthinkof.Itwaslogical,besides:perhapstoologicalforthepoltergeist-typeirrationalityofsomuchthathadhappenedthatnight.