Part 38 (2/2)

'Why?'

Fizz scowled at him. If you say ”When?” next, Buchanan, I'll sock you in the mouth. The word we got at the hospital, Giles and I, was that Poppy had been picked up there by a guy in a black Ford Ka. They said he was in his thirties, which isn't a bad description of the guy who just marched in at the side door like he owned the place.'

Buchanan yawned. 'Likely to be a policeman, then,' he said. 'Were you expecting a policeman to come and identify Poppy's cat?'

'No, I can't say I was.' Fizz was staring so unblinkingly at the side door that her eyes were starting to water. 'But it doesn't throw me. Anything's possible. Just as long as he's not shacking up with her twenty-four hours a day, otherwise it'll be the devil's own job to get near enough to her for a chat.'

It was about ten minutes before the guy reappeared and the sight of the cat basket he was carrying made Fizz want to dance a salsa. He slid it into the back, with less gentleness than Buchanan felt should go unremarked, and started to back out.

'Okay, genius, here we go,' Buchanan said and slotted the Saab, as to the manner born, into the stream of traffic 236. three cars behind what was now identifiable as a Ford Ka.

Fizz was on a real high. She was convinced she was on a run. She felt so empowered she could probably heal scrofula with her touch. They were on their way to Poppy's hideaway and Poppy had to be the person who knew what was what. Obviously. Otherwise, why was it so important to keep her hidden away? 237.

Chapter Twenty.

The rain had started again with a vengeance, and Buchanan

had great difficulty keeping the Ford in sight while, at the

same time, keeping at least two cars between it and himself. He hadn't driven through Hawick before and the driver of the Ford Ka was either just as unfamiliar with the traffic systems as he, or he was taking a circuitous route to his destination in the hope of throwing off any pursuit.

This uncertainty made Buchanan even more jittery than he already was and, in spite of Fizz's stream of helpful suggestions, he took every precaution he could against being spotted, even to the point of losing sight of his quarry for harrowing minutes at a time while traversing a parallel route.

He had ground his teeth to stubs -so Fizz a.s.sured him by the time they saw the Ford stop at a terrace house on the outskirts of Greenlaw. They had to drive straight past the end of the road but Buchanan swung a U-turn and zapped back again in time to see the cat basket and its lanky custodian moving up the path towards the door.

There was only about thirty or forty feet between the doorway and the hedge that Fizz, having leapt out on their first pa.s.s, was peering through, and as Buchanan joined her the caller lifted a fist and rapped on the window beside the door. Two soft raps, three sharp, and one soft.

'Did you see that?' Fizz said, with a giggle, when the door had closed behind the guy. 'A coded knock! You wouldn't believe it if you read it in a book, would you?' 239. Fizz wasn't given to giggling but Buchanan suspected she was, if not hysterical, a fraction over-excited. 'A sensible precaution, I'd call it,' he whispered. 'Did you see who opened the door to him?'

'No. But I thought I heard a woman's voice -kind of high-pitched. I imagine that's what Poppy would sound like if she thought she was getting her cat back.'

Buchanan hoped she was right. The whole escapade had progressed much further that he had ever antic.i.p.ated.

From the outset, he had rated their hopes of success somewhere between point one per cent and zero, but he had felt obliged, out of sheer culpability, to give Fizz all the help she needed, no matter what. And now, in spite of all the pitfalls they could have encountered, here they were on Poppy Ford's doorstep. Fizz had to be right: there were angels at their shoulders.

When the guy emerged from the doorway, some fifteen minutes later, he was still carrying the cat basket. Pooky was off on another adventure and Buchanan's heart bled to see him go.

They waited till the policeman's car was out of sight and then zapped round the corner and up Poppy's garden path.

Fizz, who was ahead by a couple of paces, tapped on the window: two soft, three sharp, one soft, and then ducked down below the level of the window.

'You didn't need to do that, surely?' Buchanan said, and had to bend down to catch her reply which was, in any case, inaudible behind the clatter of the downpour.

The curtain moved briefly, as he stood up, but in a manner so cursory that it would have been impossible for the person inside to say whether the figure outside in the half darkness and the pouring rain was really the previous caller or not. A moment later, Buchanan heard the sound of a chain being disengaged and locks being unfastened.

'Did you forget--' said the pale face that floated out of the gloom, and then she screamed.

'Don't be afraid!' Buchanan cried, lacerated by the 240. sound, but Fizz stepped around him and stuck a boot in the door the woman was frantically trying to slam shut.

Suddenly all three of them were in a shadowy hallway, with the door closed behind them and Fizz holding Poppy firmly by the wrists as she said, 'It's all right, Poppy. We're lawyers. We're here to help you.'

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