When I was sure I wasn’t being followed I took the bypass out of town, heading north. I dug the mobile out, checked the signal. It was still strong, Gonzo must have powered it to the hilt when he’d last charged it up. I rang Denise. “Harry.” Her sigh of relief blew ash off my cigarette. Then, in case I might interpret it as a sign of weakness: “Where the fuck are you? I’ve been ringing all fucking morning!” “I should be there in an hour, tops. How’s Ben?” “He’s okay. He thinks we’re planning a surprise for granny and granddad.” “Good thinking.” Denise was a smart girl, a lot smarter than I felt right about then. The thought occurred, and not for the first time, that maybe her name should be on the frosted glass and I should be the one who spent his day switching the TV channel away from Cartoon Network. “Okay, I’ll see you about twelvish.” “Is Gonzo with you?” “He’s not, no.” “Where is he?” “I’ll tell you everything later when I get there.”
