Free White corridor by Christopher Fowler Page A

filled with exposed electrical cabling for the Northern line. He had managed to shut down the City Branch during rush hour, and since then none of the electronic readouts in Banbury’s car had ever worked properly.
    ‘So what’s our route?’ asked May.
    ‘We make our way to Hammersmith and get onto the M3 as far as Winchester, then head for Salisbury and Yeovil on the A30, switch to the A303, past Exmouth and Newton Abbot, skirt the southern edge of Dartmoor on the A38 and hit Plymouth by teatime. If we’re running ahead of schedule, we could visit my Auntie Dolly in Weymouth. She just had her telegram from the queen, and still does her own shopping, although some of the things she comes back with take some explaining.’
    ‘All right, I’ll handle the M3 and you can take the back roads. Let’s find a garage first. No doubt you’ll want to stock up on boiled sweets.’
    ‘No, I’ve taken to buying them wholesale. I’ve got a pound of Rhubarb and Custards in the back, some Jelly Tots, and a half of Chocolate Limes. Do you want a Pear Drop?’
    ‘No, acetone takes the roof off my mouth. You think Janice can manage looking after the PCU? We’ve never left her in charge before.’
    ‘She’ll probably be better than you or I,’ Bryant told him. ‘We’ll only be away for a couple of days. What could go wrong in that time?’
    ‘What about April? Do you think she’ll be all right? I mean, now that we’ve talked about her mother’s death.’
    ‘I don’t see why not. For heaven’s sake, stop fretting about everyone.’ Bryant’s thoughts were generally so abstracted that he found it hard to empathise with other people’s personal problems. ‘April can call you if there’s anything on her mind. Put your foot down, I have my heart set on a pint of scrumpy tonight.’
    May turned the ignition key. There was a grinding noise beneath the hood, then a peculiar squeaking sound.
    ‘Wait!’ Alma came running out. ‘Open the bonnet!’ May did as he was told, and the landlady reappeared from beneath the hood with an armful of mewling kittens. ‘They were keeping warm under there. I’m minding them for a neighbour.’
    This time, the van started.
    ‘I’m sure I’m going to regret this,’ muttered May as he pulled out into the peristaltic column of traffic passing slowly through Chalk Farm.
    ‘Look at it this way,’ said Bryant, leafing through pages of villages that no longer existed. ‘For the next three days you won’t have to think about solving a single crime.’

11

    REVELATION
    ‘Come with me, I want to show you something.’
    ‘Are you sure it’s safe?’ Madeline asked. ‘Isn’t it private property?’
    ‘A rich old guy used to own it, but he died. Now some Swiss property developers want to turn it into a hotel, but the mayor won’t allow them. He’s probably holding out for a bigger bribe, and until he gets it, the place stays empty. Give me your hand.’ He outstretched his arm and hauled her onto the granite wall beside him. ‘Be careful of this plant,’ he warned, indicating the purple bougainvillea that had overgrown the garden of the chateau. ‘It has pairs of sharp thorns.’ He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her into the long grass. ‘The ground slopes down to the sea. Hold onto me.’
    The sun had just sunk behind the cliffs, and Ryan had passed out in his hotel room, exhausted after a day spent racing up and down the shingle beach with Johann. Madeline allowed Johann’s hand to stay on her waist even after she had steadied herself.
    The chateau’s vermilion tiled roof had partially collapsed. Olive trees and agaves had broken through the plaster on the ground-floor walls. The grand old house had been empty for many years. Between the pines and date palms she could glimpse an indigo triangle of ocean. Rotting tangerines littered the grassy slope. Their sharp citrus scent made her mouth water.
    ‘Over here, you have to see this.’ He pushed back the