his problem. Taz, slumped behind the wheel, was holding in both hands a sheet of white paper, carefully folded so it formed a chute. He was holding it up to one nostril while he snorted white powder heavily. He transferred the 'nose' of the chute to the other nostril and snorted again deeply.
He was so absorbed in his indulgence he was not aware of Max until he was seated beside him. Max wet a finger, dipped it into the remnants of the powder still remaining in the chute, tasted it. As he'd thought. Cocaine.
`Needed it... to pass... the time,' Taz said with a foolish grin. He was slurring his words.
`I will take the wheel,' Max said speaking very clearly. 'So get out, walk round the front of the car and sit in my seat.'
Taz had indulged heavily. He had trouble opening the door. While he did so Max grabbed the chute out of his hands, folded it tightly to keep the remnants of the cocaine inside, then tucked it in the door pocket.
He watched contemptuously while the Moroccan used both hands to hold on to the body of the car while he worked his way round to the passenger seat. As he flopped in the seat, Max lost patience.
`Seat belt, he snapped.
He was forced to fasten the seat belt round Taz himself. Then he started driving, the detailed plan now settled in his head. He took a devious route to Cambridge Circus, turned down Shaftesbury Avenue. It was late rush hour but there seemed surprisingly little traffic. He was approaching Piccadilly Circus when he saw the reason. Road works. The double decker buses were being given priority, two were purring towards him. He slipped into an empty space on the right-hand side, just vacated by a motorist.
`I have another job to do on my own,' he told Taz. `You get out here. Walk a few metres along the pavement, then you cross the street and there's a Tube station,' he lied. 'Get a train to the lodging house in New Malden. Both rooms are paid for, covering the next two days. Get moving, man...'
He had to unfasten Taz's seat belt for him, then open the door on his side. Taz managed to step out onto the pavement and closed the door after him. Max lit a rare cigarette while he watched Taz stumbling along. The two previous buses had passed the Ford but another one was coming.
Taz stepped off the pavement to cross over without looking. The bus, with a clear road ahead, was moving at thirty miles an hour to make the next stop on schedule. It hit Taz — the driver desperately tried to brake but too late. The bus slammed into Taz, brought him down, rolled over his prone body with one wheel. The bus backed, one wheel red with blood.
Max had kept his engine running. He saw a man dart out, bend down to check the neck artery, then stand up, shaking his head. Max signalled, turned out, drove slowly past a shocked crowd, proceeded on to the Circus.
An hour earlier, facing Paula Grey, he had been shaking inwardly at the prospect at what he was supposed to do. Now he was ice-cold and very hungry.
`I think I'll go to the Café Royal and order a full dinner,' he said to himself. 'At least I'm dressed for a place like that.'
8
`Nice car,' Marler remarked as Paula drove him towards the shops. 'I might think of getting a Porsche myself.'
`Cost a mint, as you probably guessed,' she responded. 'I have a very generous salary, as you'll know, but I saved for months to collect the deposit.'
`If you'd told me I'd have gone halves with you,' Marler joked. 'problem would have been which of us occupied the boot if we'd had a passenger. I think you'd fit better than me.'
She laughed and felt much better. Marler, sensing the tension in her when they'd first met, was talking more than usual. He continued joking, mimicking perfectly the voices of other members of the staff at Park Crescent.
She kept laughing and eventually protested good- humouredly, 'If you don't stop I'll lose control of this beauty.'
`That's the idea. Then I'll take over the wheel.'
She pulled in a slot outside the large new food shop
He was so absorbed in his indulgence he was not aware of Max until he was seated beside him. Max wet a finger, dipped it into the remnants of the powder still remaining in the chute, tasted it. As he'd thought. Cocaine.
`Needed it... to pass... the time,' Taz said with a foolish grin. He was slurring his words.
`I will take the wheel,' Max said speaking very clearly. 'So get out, walk round the front of the car and sit in my seat.'
Taz had indulged heavily. He had trouble opening the door. While he did so Max grabbed the chute out of his hands, folded it tightly to keep the remnants of the cocaine inside, then tucked it in the door pocket.
He watched contemptuously while the Moroccan used both hands to hold on to the body of the car while he worked his way round to the passenger seat. As he flopped in the seat, Max lost patience.
`Seat belt, he snapped.
He was forced to fasten the seat belt round Taz himself. Then he started driving, the detailed plan now settled in his head. He took a devious route to Cambridge Circus, turned down Shaftesbury Avenue. It was late rush hour but there seemed surprisingly little traffic. He was approaching Piccadilly Circus when he saw the reason. Road works. The double decker buses were being given priority, two were purring towards him. He slipped into an empty space on the right-hand side, just vacated by a motorist.
`I have another job to do on my own,' he told Taz. `You get out here. Walk a few metres along the pavement, then you cross the street and there's a Tube station,' he lied. 'Get a train to the lodging house in New Malden. Both rooms are paid for, covering the next two days. Get moving, man...'
He had to unfasten Taz's seat belt for him, then open the door on his side. Taz managed to step out onto the pavement and closed the door after him. Max lit a rare cigarette while he watched Taz stumbling along. The two previous buses had passed the Ford but another one was coming.
Taz stepped off the pavement to cross over without looking. The bus, with a clear road ahead, was moving at thirty miles an hour to make the next stop on schedule. It hit Taz — the driver desperately tried to brake but too late. The bus slammed into Taz, brought him down, rolled over his prone body with one wheel. The bus backed, one wheel red with blood.
Max had kept his engine running. He saw a man dart out, bend down to check the neck artery, then stand up, shaking his head. Max signalled, turned out, drove slowly past a shocked crowd, proceeded on to the Circus.
An hour earlier, facing Paula Grey, he had been shaking inwardly at the prospect at what he was supposed to do. Now he was ice-cold and very hungry.
`I think I'll go to the Café Royal and order a full dinner,' he said to himself. 'At least I'm dressed for a place like that.'
8
`Nice car,' Marler remarked as Paula drove him towards the shops. 'I might think of getting a Porsche myself.'
`Cost a mint, as you probably guessed,' she responded. 'I have a very generous salary, as you'll know, but I saved for months to collect the deposit.'
`If you'd told me I'd have gone halves with you,' Marler joked. 'problem would have been which of us occupied the boot if we'd had a passenger. I think you'd fit better than me.'
She laughed and felt much better. Marler, sensing the tension in her when they'd first met, was talking more than usual. He continued joking, mimicking perfectly the voices of other members of the staff at Park Crescent.
She kept laughing and eventually protested good- humouredly, 'If you don't stop I'll lose control of this beauty.'
`That's the idea. Then I'll take over the wheel.'
She pulled in a slot outside the large new food shop
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