The cars were almost level when they bore down on the zebra crossing.
Carter shouted loudly, perhaps it was meant as a warning to the pedestrians who were running from the crossing. All but two made it.
The Citroen hit a woman in her thirties, her body flying into the air, suspended there as if on invisible wires before she fell back to the ground, rolling over on the tarmac.
The Astra struck the man with her, catapulting him a full fifteen feet. He rolled over and over, his back broken by the impact.
The two cars sped on into the King's Road.
Carter heard more sirens now, saw two police cars joining the hunt.
Yet still the Astra kept coming.
The men in it seemed oblivious to the presence of the law, so determined were they to kill the other two occupants of the Citroen.
Other cars on the road stopped or pulled into any handy side-street as the procession roared past, the police cars now trying to pull up alongside the Astra, trying to sandwich it between them. But the driver only put his foot down and Carter saw the vehicle coming closer, speeding up as it slammed into the rear of the Citroen.
Tina screamed as the impact almost sent the car out of control but Carter wrestled with the wheel and drove on, slowing down slightly, now allowing the Astra to pull up alongside him.
They roared down the road side by side.
He saw the shotgun poking out of the window, aiming at him and he realized that he must time his next move to perfection.
As they sped past Chelsea Town Hall, Carter twisted the steering wheel and slammed full tilt into the Astra.
The impact was forceful enough to make the driver lose control.
The car mounted the pavement, scattering those bystanders who had not already taken refuge in the many shops or restaurants which lined the street. The driver fought to control the vehicle but Carter pulled the automatic from his holster and fined three, four, five times into the white car. Bullets struck the windscreen, the side windows and, finally, one hit the driver in the back of the neck.
The bullet severed his spinal cord just below the nape of his neck, shattering bone and cartilage easily, and hurtled out of his mouth, carrying several teeth with it.
The Astra careened out of control, roaring towards a furniture store.
It shattered the front window and ploughed on into the shop itself, massive lumps of glass crashing down around it.
Carter looked round and grinned, his face spattered with blood, the breath rasping in his throat.
Ahead, a lorry was pulling across the road, a massive sixteen-wheeler which had blocked the entire street.
Tina peered over the back seat and saw the lorry.
`Stay down,' shouted Carter and jammed his foot down on the accelerator until the needle on the speedometer nudged ninety.
'No,' Tina shrieked.
But Carter merely pushed her back, ducking low himself over the wheel, heading towards the lorry whose driver had now seen the Citroen. He had leapt from his cab, fearing a collision.
The police cars following slowed down, the occupants watching the Citroen roar towards the lorry, its speed increasing.
Carter yelled something at the top of his voice.
A prayer perhaps?
The Citroen hit the lorry, passing beneath it, between the sets of massive wheels. There was a scream of buckling metal as the roof of the vehicle was torn free, flying upwards as the rest of the car hurtled on beneath the truck. It skidded twice on the other side and Carter hit the brakes, bringing it back under control, the wind pouring into his face. He was panting like a carthorse as he glanced behind him, satisfied that the lorry formed an impassable barrier. The police couldn't follow for the moment but, he realized, they would already have alerted other units and a bullet-riddled Citroen with no roof wasn't going to take much finding. He slammed on the brakes and jumped out, wrenching open the back door, pulling Tina out. Then he scurried across the street towards a blue Capri whose driver was gaping at him open-mouthed.
Carter aimed the gun at the man's head.
'Get out,' he ordered.
The man was out in seconds, running away from the car. Carter pushed Tina in and clambered behind the wheel. He started the engine and swung the car right, up Old Church Street, heading towards Fulham Road.
They didn't have much time.
He had to find a phone box.
Beside him, Tina was sobbing quietly, her blouse and jeans stained with blood. Carter reached across and squeezed her hand and she leant against his shoulder. He felt her tears soaking his shirt.
As they reached the top of the street he stopped the car and they both jumped out.
There was a phone booth just across the street. Holding Tina's hand, Carter ran across and wrenched open the door. He was still breathing heavily, his throat dry and raw. He pushed the money into the slot, glancing quickly around for any sign of the police.
Or anyone else.
He began to dial.
Frank Harrison sat perfectly still in the chair, the glass gripped in his fist. But for the steady rising and falling of his chest and shoulders he could easily have been mistaken for a corpse. His face was deathly white, his eyes closed.
He had arrived at Tina's flat over an hour ago, not long after Carter had rung Billy Stripes and summoned him to take himself and Tina back to the flat in Kensington. There they had cleaned themselves up, she had changed and dressed her cuts, relieved to see that those on her face weren't deep.
Then they had waited for Harrison to arrive.
Carter had told him what had happened.
The chase. The murder of Pat Mendham.
Harrison had begun to drink, small measures at first but gradually the crystal tumbler had become increasingly full. Carter had the uncomfortable feeling that something was about to explode.
He and Billy stood looking at Harrison who had now opened his eyes and was glaring into air, occasionally looking at Tina who sat opposite him on the sofa, touching her grazed knees every so often.
'A fucking grass,' said Harrison, so softly the other men barely heard him. 'It had to be a fucking grass. Who else would have known where they were?' He got to his feet. 'Somebody in my firm is a stinking grass.' His breath was coming in short gasps. He looked at Carter. 'And you say you didn't see the geezer that shot Pat?'
'I saw him but he didn't look familiar,' Carter answered.
'I'm going to fucking kill him,' rasped the gang leader. ‘When I find him I'm going to kill him. Whoever's behind this. Whoever tipped those bastards off this morning is the same one who set me up in that restaurant.'
'You can't be sure, Frank,' Billy protested.
'You want to argue with me?' roared Harrison, hurling the glass in Billy's direction.
The other man ducked and the expensive crystal exploded against the far wall.
'I want him found,' the gang boss snarled. 'Do you hear me? I want this fucking grass found.' His eyes were blazing now, the veins on his forehead throbbing madly. He let out a roar of rage and brought his hand down with thunderous force on the table-top.
Carter and Billy could only look on helplessly.
'Well that's it,' said Harrison. 'No more waiting. No more sitting around. I've lost four men in the last two weeks. It's time we started fighting back.'
'But against who?' Billy said. 'We still don't know who's behind the attacks.'
'I don't care,' bellowed Harrison. 'If we can't fight one then we'll fight them all. I want every other gang leader blown away. Fuck it, we take no chances.' A slight grin creased his lips.
The phone rang and he snatched it up.
The others saw him nodding. Heard his grunts.
'Where?' he asked.
Carter saw the boss's eyes blaze once more.
'No. Keep him there,' he snarled. 'You fucking keep him there or I'll have your head too. I'll be there in twenty minutes.'
He slammed the receiver down and turned to face the watching men.
'They've got him,' he said quietly, a smile spreading across his face. 'They've got the grass. Drake overheard him making a call to that fucking wop bastard Barbieri.'
'Who is it?' Carter wanted to know.
'McIntire,' Harrison told him. 'They're holding him at the Mayfair casino.' He laughed quietly, then the facade suddenly changed again and the rage returned. 'You,' he snapped, pointing at Carter. 'You stay with Tina. Don't leave her. Understand?'
Carter nodded.
'Come on, Billy,' Harrison said to the other man. 'We've got some business to attend to.' He started for the door. As he reached it he turned and looked back at Tina and Carter. 'You don't leave this flat, right? You don't go anywhere without my say-so. You take care of her, Carter, or I swear to God I'll make you wish your father had never met your mother.' Those eyes blazed insanely at them for a second longer; then the gang boss was gone.
Carter crossed to the window and watched the car pull away.
So, it had been McIntire all along, he thought.
He was glad Harrison hadn't told him to go to the casino with him.
There were some things he would rather not see.
Perhaps he should have been there, Carter thought as he sat down at the kitchen table, drumming gently with his fingers.
Perhaps he should have gone with Harrison to the casino to see what fate awaited McIntire. After all, it had been McIntire who had caused Jim's death. Carter sucked in a deep, almost painful breath. If not for the grass, his brother might still be alive now. He shook his head, realising that McIntire's death would solve nothing. No amount of bloodshed was going to bring Jim back. And God alone knew there would be bloodshed. Carter touched the automatic beneath his left armpit as he remembered the chase that morning and how Pat Mendham had been killed.
How many more would die before this business was over?
His thoughts were interrupted by Tina.
She appeared in the doorway of the kitchen wearing just a short housecoat, her hair still damp from the shower. She gazed at Carter for a moment, smiling when he looked up at her.
'They'll kill him, won't they?' she said.
'McIntire? Yes, they'll kill him. Eventually,' Carter told her.
She crossed to him, sitting down beside him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. He responded, gripping her hand tightly.
'You saved my life this morning, Ray,' she said softly.
He shrugged.
'It's a pity I couldn't have saved Pat as well.' He said.. 'I was just thinking, that night the restaurant got hit, it might have been me in the car instead of Jim. I was the driver, I
should
have been in the car.'
'You can't blame yourself for Jim's death,' she told him. 'You shouldn't feel any guilt.'
'That's easy for you to say, Tina,' he said with just a hint of anger in his voice.
She gazed at him for a moment longer before lifting his hand and kissing it, pressing her lips to each finger in turn.
'I'm sorry,' she murmured quietly.
She stood up and moved across to him. Carter rose to meet her, enfolding her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him.
'If
you
had
been killed that night ...' she began, but her words were cut short as he kissed her. Their lips pressed hard together then parted, tongues seeking the warm moistness beyond. Tina gripped the back of Carter's neck, as if not wanting him to break the kiss. He felt the dampness of her hair as he stroked her shoulders through the thin material of her housecoat.
When they finally parted they were both panting, Tina's face flushed. She looked almost imploringly at Carter, taking his hand in hers as she did so. Compliant to her wishes, he allowed her to place his hand on her breast and then it was his own desire which took over. He kneaded the firm globe, feeling the stiffness of her nipple beneath his palm, repeating his actions on her other breast. She gasped softly as she felt him loosen the thin belt of the housecoat. He parted it to reveal her upper body, leaning forward to take first one and then the other nipple between his lips, flicking the erect buds with his tongue.
She felt his strong arms fasten around her waist and he lifted her up on to the table, slipping his own jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor. He opened the housecoat completely until her entire slender form was exposed to him and, for brief seconds, he allowed his eyes to take in every detail of her body. Her rounded breasts, the nipples hard and upstanding. Her flat stomach and the tiny triangle of hair between her slim legs. Carter had never felt such overpowering desire in his life before. He dropped to his knees before her, his head hovering between her legs for a moment. Then he planted his lips upon her vagina, tasting her wetness, allowing his tongue to flick at her distended lips, slowly taking each one between his teeth before lapping at it gently.
She moaned with pleasure and ground her pelvis against his face, snaking one leg around the back of his neck to draw him in closer.
Tina closed her eyes and surrendered to the expert ministrations of his tongue as he probed and licked at her most sensitive areas, finally fastening his lips around the stiffness of her clitoris, coaxing it from its fleshy hood.
He parted her legs wider with his hands, running his fingers softly along the insides of her thighs, his mouth now working more swiftly, his tongue flicking rapidly in and out of her liquescent cleft.
She wanted him more fully but was reluctant to forgo the pleasure she felt building to a crescendo. As he continued to tease and caress her vagina with his tongue she felt the first unmistakeable feelings of warmth beginning to spread across her belly and thighs. Her breathing became more rapid and she gripped the edge of the table, arching her back to allow him easier access, wanting him to penetrate her even more deeply, needing the release of orgasm.
The pleasure rose to a peak and Tina bit gently at her own fist in a vain attempt to stifle the cry she unleashed as she came.