STARSHINE, THE OCEAN AND THE UNICORN
Chapter three                                                                                                             Part four


                   Whether they did or not was yet another secret, so Joe forgot it.  Then he got to thinking that maybe he was still alive because somebody just happened to liked him.  Some big chink, some mandarin type overlord at the top of their pagoda thought that he might shape into something and be useful to them.  Or was he being led a dance ? Had his mistaken murder in the warehouse been planned by another ? Was it a sly move to make his quota of killings  up to seven instead of six ?
They were crossing Westminster bridge and although he could not see it, he was aware of the river's dark, heavy flow and it scared him.  He felt less vulnerable when they were on solid ground again in the shelter of the block of buildings and the many streams of traffic round the Elephant and Castle. But fear was never far from him, like a dark spectre whose presence Joe was growing used to.
                The car ran smooth and fast down the Brixton Road.  It turned off into a residential street of victorian terraced houses, each with a pocket handkerchief garden and a lighted bay window.  Joe sat back and closed his eyes, he felt the car change direction as it turned ninety degrees in and out of identical streets.  Then it stopped.
               " Get out ! " said Jason.
                The cube of muscle on Joe's left opened the door and got out, Joe followed.  The chinaman got back inside the car and Joe was left on the pavement beneath a streetlamp.  There was a faint electronic whine as Jason opened his car window.  He handed Joe a cylindrical package wrapped in polythene.
               " Be gentle with it son, it's a bomb !" said Jason.  Without having taken the package from Jason, Joe found that it was in his hands and without listening to Jason, Joe was still hearing his instructions,
               " Blue metro outside thirty-four Chantry Road, two streets down from here.  There's some tape in the pack.  Tape the bomb underneath the car, near the driver's seat.  It's timed for when he leaves for work.  You've got exactly ten minutes."
                 Joe was looking at his watch when the black car window rose again and the long limo drove off.
                 Chantry Road was another quiet , snug little road of terraced houses.  The gardens were longer and there were garden paths and clipped hedges.  Joe sat deep in the bushes of a garden three doors up and on the opposite side of number thirty- four.  The boot of the blue metro was open and the west indian with the full head of hair and the moustache was packing.  There were cases and bags and a small trunk on the ground at his feet, all waiting to be jammed into the little car.  The guy was not going to work to take up his shift that night.  The disappearance of his work mate had made him  nervous and he was running.  Joe guessed he would drive to the airport and catch a plane that would fly him many thousands of miles away where he could start afresh on the proceeds of his misdemeanour and Joe wished the guy could have made it but for the sake of his own life he was not going to let him.  Joe had no watch and no idea how many minutes were passing as the west indian packed and repacked his car.  Joe was still carrying the bomb and the luggage was not going to fit into the metro.  Joe began to sweat.  He carefully unwrapped the bomb.  He had never seen a bomb before but he began tearing lengths of tape from the reel anyway and attaching them over the small device in readiness.  He held his breath to try and steady his hands, but his palms were clammy and his fingers felt like sausages.
               The security guard finally wedged two of the cases in the back seat.  He closed the boot softly but left the car door open.  He glanced about him fearfully as if he could feel fate stalking him and expected it to appear before he could escape.  He walked back up the garden path and into the house.   Joe moved like lightening.  He strapped the bomb quickly and delicately to the underside of the car, right on the edge beneath the drivers seat.  He left the polythene wrapping and roll of tape underneath the car and rolled away, minding his head on the open car door.  Then he slunk back into the shadows and took cover behind the dark, wet foliage of another garden hedge directly opposite.  He peered through the leaves and saw the man reappear and get into the driver's seat.  Then a woman with a carrycot appeared and closed the front door behind her.  Fear spread through Joe like hot fire.  He watched the woman as she started down the path and in his silent hysteria he grabbed a large stone from a rockery and hurled it over the hedge.  His madness was quick and strong like a catapult and the rock landed with a loud thud about four feet from the woman.  It stopped her in her tracks.  Her husband opened the car door but he did not get out before the explosion.
                  The metro was a black frame filled with fire.  Joe could see the woman's large and petrified eyes as she stared into the dancing yellow and amber light.  He could hear the baby's faint crying behind the roar of the flames.  Then doors wee flung open and neighbours ran out.  The crowds and commotion were instant.  Joe joined it and worked his way steadily back to its outskirts and then unnoticed, he was lost to the night.
                  He was back in the street where Jason and the chinaman had dropped him when the widow's screaming filled the sky and Joe started to run.  He came out onto the Brixton Road.  He stood and watched as the various sirens and flashing lights of emergency vehicles swept past him.  When they had turned off the main road the rest of the traffic pulled out from the sides and continued normally.  Joe hailed a black cab, it drew up and he jumped in.
                " Soho, please mate ! "
                " Where abouts ? "
                " Wardour Street will do, " said Joe, careful not to let out his address
                " Something big just 'appened then. " said the cabby.
                " Yeah ! " said Joe, sighing, " Heard a heck of a bang earlier on.  Another gas explosion I shouldn't wonder. "
                The rain came down hard and the windscreen wipers laboured hard from side to side.  Joe was glad that his fingerprints would be washed from the large stone that lay in the widow's garden.