The World in My Pocket

I

Two men came down the path by the lake and walked to where Fred Bradford was sitting, reading the morning’s newspaper. He had just had breakfast, and having sent his wife and son down to the lake, he was enjoying a little relaxation before joining them. He looked towards the approaching men, wondering who they were.

One of them was wearing the uniform of an Army major; the other wore a cheap, ready-made suit with a pork-pie hat set squarely on his head. The major was a small, fair man with a military moustache and a brown, lean face. His blue eyes were hard and direct. His companion was tall and bulky. His red, weather-beaten face was coarse featured, and Bradford guessed he was a police officer in plain clothes.

‘Mr. Bradford?’ the major asked, coming to rest in front of the sitting man.

‘Why, sure,’ Bradford said, getting to his feet. ‘You want me?’

‘Fred Bradford, junior?’ the major asked.

Bradford stared at him.

‘Why, no. That’s my son.’ He folded the newspaper nervously and dropped it into his chair. ‘What do you want with him?’

‘I’m Major Delaney, Field Security,’ the major said and waving his hand to his companion, ‘this is Lieutenant Cooper, City Police.’

Bradford looked uneasily at the two men.

‘I’m glad to know you gentlemen.’ He paused, then went on, ‘You don’t want my boy, do you?’

‘Where is he?’ Cooper asked.

‘He’s down by the lake with his mother,’ Bradford said. ‘What is this all about?’

‘We would like to talk to him, Mr. Bradford,’ Delaney said. ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’

At this moment, Fred Bradford, junior, came wandering up the path, whistling shrilly. He stopped whistling when he saw the two men, and he approached more slowly, a sudden wary expression on his face.

‘Here he is now,’ Bradford said. Turning to his son, he said, ‘Hey, junior, come here. Where’s your mother?’

‘She’s fooling down by the lake,’ the boy said, a scornful note in his voice.

‘Are you Fred Bradford, junior?’ Delaney asked.

‘That’s right,’ the boy said, looking up at the two men.

‘Did you write this?’ Delaney asked, taking an envelope from his pocket and extracting a sheet of notepaper.

Bradford recognized his son’s sprawling handwriting that covered the paper.

‘That’s right,’ the boy said.

He squatted down on his haunches, took off his battered straw hat and began to fill it with grass.

Bradford said blankly, ‘My son wrote to you?’

‘He wrote to police headquarters,’ Delaney said. ‘He claims to know where this missing truck is.’

Bradford gaped at his son.

‘Junior! What have you been doing? You know you don’t know where it is!’

The boy looked up at his father scornfully, then went on filling his hat with grass. When he had filled the hat, he bent forward and dipped his head into the hat, pulled the hat on and then straightened up.

‘I have to do it that way,’ he said to no one in particular, ‘otherwise the grass falls out. It keeps my head cool. It’s my own invention.’

Delaney and Cooper exchanged glances, then Delaney said kindly, ‘Where is the truck, son?’

The boy sat down and crossed his legs. He adjusted his hat, pulling it more firmly down on his head.

‘I know where it is,’ he announced solemnly.

‘Well, that’s fine,’ Delaney said, restraining his impatience with an effort. ‘Where is it?’

‘How about the reward?’ the boy asked, looking up sharply; his eyes fixed disconcertingly on the major’s face.

‘Look, junior,’ Bradford said, sweating with embarrassment, ‘you know you don’t know where the truck is. You’ll get into serious trouble wasting these gentlemen’s time.’

‘I know where it is all right,’ the boy said calmly, ‘but I’m not telling until I get the reward.’

‘Come on, son,’ Delaney said, his voice sharpening. ‘If you know something, trot it out. Your father’s right: you could get into serious trouble if you’re wasting our time.’

‘The truck’s hidden in a caravan,’ the boy said.

‘Now look,’ Bradford said, ‘we’ve been over all that. You know as well as I do.’

‘Just a moment, Mr. Bradford,’ Delaney broke in, ‘I’ll do the talking, if you please.’ He turned to the boy. ‘What makes you think the truck is in a caravan, son?’

‘I’ve seen it,’ the boy said. ‘They have two big steel girders bolted to the bottom of the caravan so the truck can’t fall through.’

‘They? Who do you mean?’

‘The guys who stole the truck, of course.’

Delaney and Cooper looked at each other. Delaney was faintly excited.

‘You’ve actually seen the truck?’

The boy nodded, then, frowning, he took off his hat.

‘It’s cool enough when I first put it on,’ he said seriously, ‘but after a while, the grass seems to heat up.’ He emptied the grass out of his hat. ‘I guess I’ll have to keep putting fresh grass in if it’s going to work at all.’

He began to fill the hat with grass again.

‘Where did you see the truck?’ Delaney asked, his voice thin with exasperation.

The boy continued to tear up handfuls of grass which he dropped into the hat.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Delaney barked.

‘What was that?’ the boy asked, pausing for a moment to look up at Delaney.

‘I asked you where the truck is,’ Delaney said.

The boy began to put more grass into his hat.

‘My father says the police wouldn’t give me the reward,’ he said. ‘He says they’ll keep it for themselves.’

Bradford shifted uneasily.

‘I never said any such thing!’ he said angrily. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself talking that way.’

The boy stared at him, then he blew a long stream of air from his lips, making a noise like the ripping of calico.

‘What a whopper!’ he said when he had finished making the noise. ‘You said if you told them the truck was hidden in a caravan, they’d think you had stolen it. You said all cops were crooks.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Cooper growled. ‘Never mind what your old man said. Where did you see the truck?’

Very slowly and very carefully, the boy bent over the hat, dipped his head into it and pulled it down on his head.

‘I’m not telling you until I get the reward,’ he said, straightening and staring up at the lieutenant.

‘Yeah? Well, we’ll see about that,’ Cooper said, his face hardening. ‘You two can come down to headquarters, and if you’ve been wasting our time.’

‘I’ll handle this,’ Delaney said quietly. ‘Now, listen, son,’ he said, ‘anyone who gives us information that will help us find the truck, gets the reward. It doesn’t matter who it is. If your information helps us find the truck, then you’ll get the reward.’

The boy studied the major for several seconds.

‘Honest?’

The major nodded.

‘Honest.’

‘You won’t give the reward to my father? You’ll give it to me?’

‘I’ll give it to you.’

‘Five thousand?’

‘That’s right.’

The boy brooded for a long moment while the three men watched him.

‘No fooling?’ he asked, staring at the major. ‘You’ll give me the reward if I tell you?’

The major nodded, his smile very wide and very sincere.

‘No fooling, son. When the Army says something, the Army means just what it says.’

Again the boy brooded, then finally he said, ‘Well, then I’ll tell you. There are four of them: three men and a girl. Two of the men stayed in the caravan all day. They only left at night. I saw them leave after it got dark. I have the number of the car. They said they were going to Stag Lake, but they were lying. They took the road to the highway and that’s no way to go to Stag Lake. The caravan is white with a blue top.’ He took from his pocket a much thumbed notebook and tore out a page. ‘That’s the car number.’

‘But how do you know the truck is in the caravan?’ Delaney asked, carefully putting the scrap of paper into his wallet.

‘I saw it when the two men got into the caravan in the morning,’ the boy said. ‘I got up specially early to watch.’

‘But how did you know it was the truck?’

The boy regarded the major patiently.

‘I read the description in the papers. It was the truck all right.’

‘When did they leave?’

‘Yesterday midday. I saw them go. They didn’t take the road to Stag Lake. They were heading for the mountains.’

‘We’ve lost a lot of time,’ Delaney said, frowning. ‘Why didn’t you get your father to telephone us?’

‘I asked him. He wouldn’t let me and he wouldn’t do it himself, that’s why I wrote,’ the boy said. ‘He said all cops were crooks.’

Delaney and Cooper stared hard at Bradford for a long moment.

‘I was just fooling,’ Bradford said in a small voice, his face red. ‘I didn’t really think.’

‘Can you give me a description of these people?’ Delaney said, turning to the boy.

‘Sure,’ the boy said and gave an accurate description of Kitson, Ginny, Gypo and Bleck.

Cooper wrote down the descriptions in his notebook.

‘That’s fine, son,’ Delaney said. ‘You’ve done a swell job. I’ll certainly recommend you for the reward if we find the truck.’

‘You’ll find it all right,’ the boy said. He took off his hat and shook out the grass. ‘There’s something wrong with this idea. It gets hot too quickly.’

Cooper said with a grin, ‘Try putting some ice in it. That’ll cool you off.’

The boy’s look was withering.

‘That’s a dumb idea,’ he said. ‘The ice would melt.’

Delaney patted the boy on his shoulder.

‘I’ll tell you how to fix it,’ he said. ‘Cut the top off the hat: that’ll let the air in and it’ll also start a new fashion.’

The boy considered this, then he nodded.

‘That’s quite smart,’ he said. ‘I’ll try it. There could be money in it.’

As the two men walked back to their car, Delaney said, ‘Up in the mountains: that’s the one spot we haven’t checked. They could be up there.’

‘No, they couldn’t,’ Cooper said. ‘If I thought they could have got up there, I’d have checked before now, but no one could get up there. The road is washed out. You could never get the truck up that bit of road.’

‘They might have been lucky,’ Delaney said. ‘There is nowhere else to look. I’m going to check.’

Cooper got into the car and started the engine.

‘Are you really going to recommend that kid for the reward?’ he asked.

Delaney settled himself beside Cooper. There was a faraway expression in his eyes as he said, ‘What is a kid of ten going to do with five thousand bucks? His father would only grab it.’ He glanced at Cooper and his smile appeared very sincere. ‘We know who is going to get the reward, don’t we? It is stated whoever finds the truck gets the reward. I guess you and me will find it so we will get the reward.’

Cooper blew out his cheeks.

‘The way you talked to that kid had me worried.’

Delaney nodded.

‘I know how to handle kids,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to be goddamn sincere with them, otherwise they don’t trust you. I’ve always been a pretty sincere man,’ and he laughed.

II

It was a little after nine o’clock when Kitson came back to the camp. He carried Gypo’s shovel on his shoulder and his shirt was plastered with sweat.

Ginny was sitting on a rock in the shade of a tree, her face very white and her eyes full of unshed tears.

Bleck had got the truck out of the caravan. He was leaning against the door, his ear to the lock, his right hand moving the dial very slowly and carefully while he listened.

Kitson put down the shovel, then went over to join Ginny. He sat down at her feet and lit a cigarette, his hands unsteady.

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

‘What a way to die,’ Kitson said, reaching up and covering her hand with his. ‘There was nothing I could do for him. He died while that rat and I were fighting, but even at that, I could never have got him to hospital in time.’

‘Don’t talk about it, Alex.’

‘And burying him like that: the way you bury a dog. He was a good guy, Ginny. I ought to have listened to him. He didn’t want this job. He tried to talk me into quitting. I wish I had listened to him.’

‘Yes.’

‘He said nothing good would come of it. He was right. Let’s get out of here, Ginny. You and me. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll go.’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said. ‘It’s all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself. I started it. When you went down to bury him, I sat here, thinking. I can see how wrong and how bad I’ve been. Even if we open the truck right now I wouldn’t touch any of the money. I must have been out of my mind!’

‘You mean you will come with me?’ Kitson said, not looking at her. ‘We could start a new life, Ginny. Would you marry me?’

‘If that’s what you want,’ she said. ‘But you don’t really imagine we are going to get away with this, do you? Sooner or later, they’ll get onto us.’

Kitson stubbed out his cigarette and threw it away.

‘We might be lucky. It’s worth a try. We’ll take the Buick and make for the Mexican border. They haven’t got our descriptions. If we once get to Mexico.’

Bleck yelled, ‘Hey, Kitson! Come over here! What do you imagine you are doing? Come here and give me a hand!’

Kitson and Ginny exchanged glances, then Kitson got to his feet. He walked over to the truck.

‘Can you handle a flame?’ Bleck asked. His face was set and tense, his eyes wild-looking.

‘No.’

‘Well, now’s the time to learn. We’re going to burn our way into this goddamn box! Come on — give me a hand with the cylinders.’

‘Not me,’ Kitson said quietly.

Bleck glared at him.

‘What do you mean? We’ve got to get this truck open, haven’t we?’

‘I haven’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I’m through. I shouldn’t have touched this job. You open it. The money’s all yours if you can get at it. I’m quitting.’

Bleck drew in a long slow breath.

‘Listen, you creep, I can’t handle it on my own! Give me a hand with the cylinders and stop shooting off with your mouth!’

‘As soon as it gets dark,’ Kitson said, ‘Ginny and me are leaving. You can please yourself what you do, but we’re leaving.’

‘So that’s it,’ Bleck snarled. ‘You two … well, what do you know? So you finally made it, plough boy. And you’re walking out on a million dollars. You’re crazy!’

‘That’s what we’re doing,’ Kitson said quietly.

‘You’ve got a long walk ahead of you,’ Bleck sneered.

‘We’re taking the Buick.’

‘That’s what you think. I’m using the Buick and I’m not ready to go yet.’ He thumped the side of the truck. ‘I’m busting open this truck if it’s the last thing I do! Neither you, you yellow gutted monkey, nor your floozie is going to stop me! If you want to quit, then damn well quit, but you’ll quit on your flat feet. You’re not taking the car!’

Out of the corner of his eye, Bleck saw Ginny suddenly get to her feet and begin to move towards him. He realized this was two against one. He guessed Ginny had a gun.

Kitson was saying quietly, ‘We’re leaving tonight, and we’re leaving in the car. You can come with us to the highway if you want to, but after that you’re on your own. Suit yourself.’

Bleck hesitated, then he looked towards Ginny, who was still now, her right hand held out of sight by her side. If he didn’t play this right, these two would kill him, he thought.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said to Kitson, ‘Well, okay, if that’s the way you want it. We’ve got until dark to work on the truck. That’s twelve hours. In that time we could be lucky.

You’re not just going to sit around and do nothing all that time, are you? Give me a hand with the cylinders!’

Surprised by this sudden climb down, Kitson hesitated.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but it’s not going to get you anywhere. You’re not going to burn a hole in that truck if you try for twenty years.’

‘We’ll see.’ Bleck glanced over at Ginny. She was still watching him, but she had relaxed. ‘You talk too much, plough boy. Come on and give me a hand.’

As Kitson moved past Bleck to the caravan, Bleck pulled his gun and rammed it into Kitson’s ribs.

‘Drop that gun!’ he yelled at Ginny, ‘or I’ll blast a hole in your boyfriend!’

Ginny let go of the gun she held in her hand. It dropped onto the grass.

Bleck backed away, covering them both.

‘Get away from it,’ he snarled.

Ginny moved to Kitson.

Bleck circled them, picked up Ginny’s gun and threw it into the lake.

‘Now you two listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re busting this truck. Don’t kid yourselves I can’t handle you both. We’re not going to move from here until we’ve opened the truck and got the dough. If you don’t want it, I do, and I’m going to have it.’ He waved his gun at Kitson. ‘Get in there and get the cylinders out.’

Shrugging, Kitson went over to the caravan and Bleck followed him.

‘I’m not going to manage this on my own,’ Kitson said. ‘Gypo and I put them up. I know what they weigh. You’d better get hold of the other end.’

Bleck grinned. He put his gun in its holster.

‘Don’t start anything funny, plough boy,’ he said. ‘I can handle you any time.’

Kitson reached up and jerked the cylinder out of its bracket.

Bleck eased his end out and got it on his shoulder. The two men slowly backed out of the caravan.

As Kitson got clear of the caravan, he suddenly let go of his end of the cylinder. The unexpected shock as the cylinder thudded to the ground threw Bleck off balance.

Kitson jumped forward. His right fist thudded into the side of Bleck’s neck, flattening him.

Cursing, Bleck tugged at his gun, but Kitson’s thirteen stone of bone and muscle came down on him. For several seconds the two men fought like animals, then Bleck drove his knee into Kitson’s chest and threw him off. He got his gun out as Kitson reached him.

Kitson’s hand grabbed Bleck’s wrist and at the same time he jolted his left into Bleck’s face.

Bleck grunted and let go of the gun.

Kitson was on his feet and covering Bleck with the gun before he could shake off the effect of the punch.

Bleck half sat up, blood running down his face from a cut under his eye, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl.

‘I’ll fix you for this!’ he said viciously.

‘Your fixing days are over,’ Kitson said, breathing heavily.

Then suddenly, without warning, there came a roar of an aircraft engine and a swish of air as a small military training plane flew over their heads, flattening the grass with its slipstream as it banked steeply and flew on across the valley.

Bleck staggered to his feet, staring after the aircraft.

‘They saw us!’ he gasped. ‘They couldn’t fail to have seen us! They’ll be up here and after us!’

The three stood motionless, watching the aircraft bank in a tight circle and head back towards them.

‘Get under cover!’ Bleck yelled and he made a frantic rush towards the woods.

The other two scattered, also running towards the woods, but the aircraft was already on them. Flying not more than a hundred feet above them, the aircraft swept over them with a roar and a rush of wind. They could see two men leaning out of the open cockpits, looking directly down at them, then the aircraft banked and went away.

Ginny and Kitson looked at each other, their eyes frightened.

Bleck bawled, ‘Get under cover, you fools! Don’t stand out there!’

Ignoring him, Kitson said, ‘They saw us. They’ll be up here, Ginny.’

‘Yes. I said they would get on to us.’

Kitson moved quickly to the road, crossed it and, crouching, he looked over the grass verge down the long zigzag road that was now clearly to be seen right down into the valley.

About ten miles down the road he saw three cars coming fast, spreading a cloud of dust as they raced into the twisting bends in the road.

He felt a little knock of fear at his heart as he ran back to Ginny.

‘They’re coming now!’

Bleck came out of the wood cursing.

‘Can you see them?’

‘Yes. They’ll be here in ten minutes at the rate they are coming.’

‘We’ve got a chance,’ Bleck said, his voice shaking. ‘Get the Buick. If we can get over the top of the mountain we stand a chance.’

‘A mile further up the road peters out,’ Kitson said. ‘We might climb …’

Bleck ran to the caravan and came back carrying the automatic rifle.

‘They’re not taking me alive,’ he said, his eyes glittering. ‘No death cell for me.’

Kitson opened the Buick door and Ginny slid in beside him.

He could feel her trembling and he patted her knee.

‘Take it easy,’ he said. ‘We still have a chance.’

As Bleck got in beside Ginny, Kitson eased the car over the rough grass and onto the road. The three of them looked back at the truck, standing under the trees.

‘The punks said it was the safest truck in the world,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘They weren’t bluffing.’

Kitson sent the car banging and bouncing up the road.

Bleck leaned out of the window to get his last look at the truck. There’s more than a million dollars in that truck, he was thinking. There’s my future and my life locked up in there too.

Kitson drove fast, skidding into the bends, his face tense, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. They came to the first hairpin bend, and he slowed to take it, but misjudged it. He had to stop and reverse while Bleck cursed him.

As they began to climb again, the aircraft, like a worrying sheep dog, circled above them.

‘If I could get a shot at that punk!’ Bleck snarled, staring up at the circling plane.

In the distance they heard the wailing note of a police siren.

Ginny shivered, her hands turning into fists.

Kitson was now having trouble in holding the car to the road, which was full of potholes and loose stones washed down the mountain from the past storm.

On their left was the side of the mountain that went straight up like a granite wall. On the right side was a sheer drop into the valley.

‘We’re not going to get much further,’ Kitson said, slowing down. ‘This is about where the road packs up.’

As he turned into the next hairpin bend, he stopped abruptly.

A fall of rocks and shrubs blocked the road. There was no way of getting the Buick past the obstruction.

Holding the automatic rifle in his hand, Bleck got out of the car. He paid no attention to the other two, but ran forward and began to climb the obstruction.

Kitson paused to look up.

High above them, he could see the snow-covered mountain peak. He hesitated a moment, then, catching Ginny by her arm, he pointed upwards.

‘We’ll go that way, Ginny,’ he said. ‘We stand a chance of hiding up there. If we stick with Bleck, we’re bound to be caught’

Ginny flinched as she looked at the face of the mountain.

‘I couldn’t climb up there,’ she said. ‘You go, Alex.’

He was pushing her along now.

‘We go together,’ he said and started up the face of the mountain. The first hundred yards was easy enough and Ginny followed him. Every now and then Kitson paused, reached down and hoisted her up beside him. They could hear the siren much closer now. The climb became harder and their progress slower. They both felt horribly exposed against the bare face of the mountain, but fifty feet higher up was a mass of rocks behind which they could hide and Kitson kept urging Ginny to climb faster.

Once, in her panic, Ginny slipped, but Kitson grabbed her, not letting her pause, but pulling her up and forcing her on. They reached the mass of rock as they heard the cars come to a halt below them.

They lay side by side, gasping for breath and peered down.

There was an overhanging rock that hid the lower part of the road from their view, but, looking to his right, Kitson caught sight of Bleck running frantically up the road, beating the air with his free hand and looking back from time to time.

He lost sight of Bleck as he rounded the bend in the road.

Kitson looked upwards, planning his next move.

Far above him, still sheltered from the road was a broad ledge, screened by shrubs. He reckoned if they could get up there they could hide until the police got tired of looking for them.

He touched Ginny’s arm.

‘Feel like going on up?’

She nodded.

‘Yes, all right.’

He smiled at her. Their faces were close and she moved forward, pressing her lips on his.

‘I’m sorry, Alex,’ she said. ‘This is all my fault.’

‘I had the choice,’ he said. ‘It just didn’t work out.’

They could hear men’s voices below, talking excitedly.

‘They’ve found the Buick,’ Kitson whispered. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

They began to climb again.

It was a nightmare business for Ginny, and she would never have made it without Kitson to pull her over the difficult places. As they neared the ledge, she suddenly stopped climbing. Her foot rested on the root of a shrub, her hands gripped the pointed end of a rock. She was pressed against the mountain side and her eyes were closed.

‘Go on, Alex,’ she panted. ‘I can’t go any further. Leave me. I just can’t do it.’

Kitson looked up. They were only a few feet from the ledge.

Then as he looked down at Ginny, just below him, he saw beyond her the long drop into the valley and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He shut his eyes, hanging onto a shrub, feeling sweat start out on his face.

Looking up, Ginny saw him clinging just above her and she thought he was going to fall.

‘Alex!!’

‘It’s okay,’ he gasped. ‘I’m just dizzy. Don’t look down, Ginny. Just hang on a moment.’

They remained there like two flies on a wall, then, very cautiously, Kitson began to move again. He found a better foothold, then he reached down towards Ginny.

‘Give me your hand,’ he said. ‘Come on. Don’t be scared. I won’t let you go!’

‘No, Alex! You’ll never get me up there. I’ll fall.’

‘Give me your hand!’

‘Oh, Alex, I’m scared! I’m going to let go! I can’t hang on.’

He grabbed hold of her wrist as she released her grip. Her choked scream was whipped away by the wind. She dangled at the end of her arms, her skirts billowing out, her long, slim legs moving as if she were walking.

Kitson hung on, taking her weight.

‘Ginny! You’ve got to help,’ he panted. ‘I’ll swing you against the side. Try to get your feet on something, then I’ll lift you.’

He swung her and her toes scrabbled frantically for a hold, found one and he felt her weight come off his arm.

Holding her, he looked down at her.

‘That’s fine,’ he said. ‘Give me a moment.’

They remained like that. A long minute crawled by, then he said, ‘Okay. Now!’ and he heaved upwards.

She slid up and over the projecting ledge and collapsed limply at his side.

Then they heard a shot. The sound was very loud and set up an echo.

Ginny stiffened and her hand closed tightly on Kitson’s wrist.

The shot had come from below and to their right.

Cautiously, Kitson leaned forward and peered down. He had a clear view of the road below. He could see the Buick and nearby, three police cars.

Moving very cautiously up the road, just beyond the obstruction, were ten soldiers and three police officers. About fifty yards further up the road and just around one of the bends lay Bleck. He was sheltering behind two small boulders, the barrel of his automatic rifle pushed forward between them. Another fifty yards up the road, just out of Bleck’s view, stood a jeep with three soldiers by it.

Kitson realized that the jeep must have come up the other side of the mountain and Bleck was trapped. He felt a surge of relief that he had gone up the mountain instead of following Bleck.

By the upper bend in the road, a soldier lay face down in the road, blood running from a wound in his head.

The soldiers coming up the road, paused at the bend, keeping out of Bleck’s sight. They were only twenty feet from him.

A major, short, dapper, and blond peered cautiously around the bend in the road, spotted the dead soldier and hurriedly drew back.

Raising his voice, he shouted, ‘We know you’re there! Come on out with your hands in the air! Come on! You’ve got no chance! Come on out!’

Kitson could see Bleck pressing himself further into the ground.

Ginny joined Kitson and looked down.

Although they were two hundred feet above the soldiers, the men seemed alarmingly close to them.

‘Are you coming or do we come and get you?’ the major shouted.

‘Come and get me, punks!’ Bleck yelled, a savage, frightened note in his voice. ‘Come and get me, and see what you get!’

The major said something to one of the police officers who nodded.

The major then walked over to a soldier and spoke to him.

There was a brief consultation. The soldier handed his rifle to another soldier, then took out a small object from one of his pouch pockets and started forward cautiously.

Kitson watched. His heart pounding.

When the soldier reached the bend in the road, he paused.

‘This is your last chance!’ the major shouted. ‘Come on out!’

Bleck’s reply was profane and obscene.

The major shouted, ‘Okay, let him have it!’

The soldier tossed the object high into the air. It rose, turned lazily and began its fall.

Ginny bid her face against Kitson’s shoulder.

Kitson started to yell a warning to Bleck, then stopped, knowing if he made a sound, he would give away his own hiding place.

The grenade dropped squarely in front of the two boulders behind which Bleck was sheltering.

Kitson shut his eyes.

The Krrrump! of the exploding grenade was unbelievably loud, and Kitson heard the rattle of stones and the whistling of flying splinters.

He moved back, not looking down and put his arms around Ginny.

She clung to him, shivering, and they remained like that.

A man suddenly shouted, ‘There’s only one here. Where are the other two? Where’s the girl?’

‘They won’t find us,’ Kitson said, his fingers running through Ginny’s copper-coloured hair. ‘They’ll never think of looking for us up here.’

Then he heard the aircraft coming.

From above he knew they must be completely exposed to view.

They looked at each other, then Ginny tried to burrow against him, making herself as small as possible. The cold clutch of fear at his heart, Kitson watched the aircraft coming.

It swished out of the sun, flying just above them and, looking up, he could see the pilot peering down at him. The pilot waggled the wings of the aircraft, as if to tell Kitson he had seen him, then the aircraft banked, and Kitson could imagine the pilot yelling excitedly into his mike, telling those down on the road what he had seen.

‘Ginny! Listen to me,’ Kitson said, lifting her face and looking into her terrified eyes. ‘Bleck was right. I’m not going into any death cell. You could beat this rap. The most they would give you if you were unlucky would be ten years. You’re only a kid. The jury would be kind to you. Ten years is nothing. You could make a new start in life when you come out. You stay here and let them bring you down.’

‘And you?’ Ginny said, her fingers gripping his arm.

Kitson forced a grin.

‘I’m taking a dive. It’s quick and it’s my way out. I’m not going into the death cell.’

Ginny drew in a deep breath.

‘We’ll go together, Alex. I’m not scared, but I would be, to be shut away for ten years. That’s something I couldn’t take. We’ll go together.’

A voice over a loudspeaker system suddenly bawled, ‘Hey, you two up there! Come on down! We know you’re up there. We don’t want any shooting. Come on down!’

‘You stay, Ginny.’

‘No. I mean it.’

Kitson bent and kissed her, holding her close.

‘Remember what Frank said? The world in our pockets? Well, maybe this could be it, but not this world; some other world. Let’s go and find out.’

He put his hand in hers and they both stood up.

They looked directly down onto the road where the soldiers and police had spread out, ready to dive for cover, their rifles pointing up at the two figures on the ledge.

‘Okay,’ Kitson shouted. His voice sounded thin and weak to the listening men below. ‘We’re coming.’

He looked at Ginny.

‘Are you ready?’

She tightened her hold on his hand.

‘Try not to let go of me, Alex,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’m ready.’

The watching men saw them suddenly step off the ledge and come hurtling down towards them.