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‘Course not.'

Grace sat staring, trying to see into JJ's brain to see if there was a light in there, flashing red for LIE. It was usually easy to tell, but this time she couldn't be sure. She gave up. ‘I'm going to the shop. You want anything?'

‘Yeah, some beer.'

Simon sat back behind the steering wheel while he watched Ellis at a telephone box. Glass glittered at Ellis's feet where it had been smashed, perhaps by the kids who rode their skateboards and bikes under a single light in the skate park beyond. Ned had one hand on Simon's shoulder and the other under his chin holding a large hunting knife.

‘They'll wonder why I've had the radio switched off for so long, Ned.'

Ned didn't say anything.

‘I could just call in and say I was going to have the night off or something like that. Say I'm getting a cold. Then I could leave it off and no one would worry.'

‘If you touch it, I'll cut your throat.'

‘Plenty of time for that,' said Ellis, as he opened the front passenger door. He sat in the front again, the revolver casual on his lap. ‘Give me your mobile, Simon.'

‘I don't have one, Ellis.'

‘Bullshit.' Ellis pulled open the glove box then rifled through the centre console and cash box. He looked at Simon and raised the gun. ‘Give me your phone.'

Simon said, ‘I don't have a mobile phone. You can look.'

Ellis stared at Simon, gauging, wondering. ‘I might just do that.'

Simon shrugged.

Ellis smiled. ‘Drive to High Wycombe.'

Simon put the car in gear.

Ellis said, ‘Say “You got it” in that happy voice you got Simon.'

‘You got it.'

Ellis leaned forward and ran his hand over the smooth new vinyl of the front dash. He said, ‘Why haven't you got a GPS?

‘I know the streets.'

Ellis snorted. ‘I bet. Ha. Take the highway. Why haven't you got a phone?'

Simon shrugged.

‘You travelling off the grid, are you Simon?'

When Simon didn't answer Ellis started nodding to himself. Then he said, ‘You ever see that film
Collateral?'

‘No.'

‘It was about this taxi driver and he got this killer in his taxi.'

Simon said nothing.

‘See this kind of thing is much harder here. Just getting a weapon is harder, even if you do know people. I mean we're like connected, to other heavy dudes. But in America, you can just...'

‘We don't need this guy,' said Ned.

‘I'm talking.'

‘I can drive.'

‘I'm talking to Simon. He understands this stuff.'

‘I understand. I saw that movie.'

‘See in America you just go to the shop. I'll have a bag full of guns, ta. Machine guns. A fucking bazooka, if you want.'

‘A tank,' said Ned.

‘I don't think you can buy a tank, Ned.'

‘In Russia.'

‘What are you going to do with a tank? “Oh honey, what's that noise in the street?” “Why, let me see, sugar. Hey, it's a tank coming towards the house.” Don't you think they might notice a tank? Or were you thinking of painting it. Maybe paint it pink and play the ice-cream music. Jesus. What's that ice-cream music, Simon?'

‘Greensleeves.'

‘See Ned. He understands all this shit because he's a Mensa guy.'

Simon kept driving, like a taxi driver not listening to the conversation.

‘A what guy?' asked Ned, suspiciously.

‘It was at the school assembly. They made a big presentation to him. We were always doing that. Simon was always getting up on the stage for us to clap and cheer at the latest thing he'd done. They did speeches thanking him for being in our lives.'

Ellis seemed to get lost in his thoughts for a while as Simon got onto Roe Highway.

‘Like knowing all the streets without a GPS. See, Mensa guys are like geniuses. They do these special tests and have a club, just for geniuses. Then you can drive a brand new taxi.'

Ellis looked to Simon, waiting. He was forced to say, ‘What you think about that, Simon?'

‘I should report in, Ellis. On the radio.'

‘Or they might wonder where he is,' said Ned.

‘Is that right?'

‘It's been a while, since I turned the radio off. They'll think it's a worry.'

‘You haven't even got one of those security cameras.'

‘Haven't fitted it yet.'

‘See, this taxi's not right. No GPS. No ... you know, that job computer. Just some old-style radio. You don't have a panic button, do you?'

Simon had been hoping they wouldn't notice his lack of driver safety features. ‘Part of a backlog. So they gave me the radio.'

‘So you think they'll be sending people, if they don't hear from you? Where's Simon and our brand new taxi? Quick, send a SWAT team.'

Simon could feel Ellis looking at him.

‘See, I'm not so dumb, am I, Simon?'

‘No, not at all, Ellis.'

Ellis wasn't quiet for long. ‘Why do you have such a new taxi, Simon?'

‘I had a crash.'

‘You fucked up.'

Simon didn't reply.

‘Simon fucked up. We're taking a big chance riding around with such a bad driver, Ned.'

‘I can drive.'

‘Give me your knife, Ned.'

Ned handed it forward, fast.

Ellis said, ‘I really want to thank you for drawing my attention to your radio.'

Simon held the steering wheel loosely, looking at the speedometer. He'd edged it up to a hundred and thirty kilometres an hour.

Ellis suddenly lunged forward and stabbed the taxi radio, popping out some buttons, then dug the knife behind it, gouging it from under the dash. It fell near Simon's feet and he swerved a little, trying to kick it out from under the brake pedal.

‘Whoa, there Simon. Watch the road. Don't want another little accident. Now there's no radio. All alone. Slow down. What's this street?'

Simon slowed, as Ellis checked the exit sign.

‘Yeah, turn here. Nice and slow.'

Ellis gave the knife back to Ned.

Ned said, ‘We don't need this guy just because of that movie.'

‘Hear that Simon? Don't need you.' Ellis was peering at the houses.

‘I'll kill him. Let me kill him for you.'

‘Can't do that, Ned. Matter of honour, dude. See, Simon once saved my life. So I can't just up and kill him can I? Not without a good reason. Wouldn't be Busheedow.'

‘Saved your life?' said Ned in wonder.

Simon wondered a little himself.

Ellis touched Simon's arm with the revolver. ‘Stop here.'

It was the address he'd been given. There were lights on inside the house, but the front yard was dark. A car body there, maybe. A dog barked, just once, not sure. There was a caravan down the back with a light on inside.

Ellis saw Simon look from the house to him, then back to the house.

Ned looked at the house, scared.

Ellis felt good, ready to do it.

A moth smacked into the windscreen and it was like they all woke up.

‘Time to kill the jockey,' said Ellis.

Simon turned to him only to find the gun already pointed at his stomach.

‘Out of the car. Everyone out.'

Simon got out the driver's side and looked towards some bushes nearby, but he saw Ellis watching as he came round the car.

Ellis whispered, ‘I'm going to shoot this guy in the head. Bang. Then, when he's down, I'll put one in the back, at the top of the neck. Pop. Let them know it was a professional job.'

‘Don't do it,' said Simon.

‘What?'

‘Don't do the job.'

‘I'll do it,' said Ned.

‘Take the cash box. There's a hundred in there. Take the taxi.'

‘A hundred bucks?'

‘I'll do it,' said Ned again.

Ellis ignored him, only talking to Simon. ‘I'd
pay
a hundred to do this.'

‘Don't do it, Ellis.' He was pleading.

‘Are you trying to be a fucking hero?'

‘I'll do it. Ellis, let me do it,' said Ned.

‘You said I saved your life. Pay me back. Don't kill this guy.'

While Ellis was trying to sort out all the little edgy things Simon had just said, Ned stepped between them, poking Simon. ‘I'll cut this guy and I'll go down there and shoot the jockey, for you Ellis. I'll blow him away as a present for you.'

‘Shut up,' said Ellis.

‘Don't do it, Ned. I've killed someone. It never leaves you.'

‘Shut up,' said Ned.

Ellis reached past Ned and rammed the gun hard into Simon's throat. He fell to the side of the road, coughing and gasping.

‘Shut up,' said Ellis. Dogs were barking.

‘Let me do it, Ellis,' said Ned.

‘Shut up, Ned. Let me think.' There were things firing around and Ned was just noise, getting in the way of the real things. He stepped past Ned to see Simon.

He was sitting back against the taxi, clutching his throat, trying to breathe.

‘We can't be arguing like this outside the hit, Ned.' Ellis looked at Simon, suspiciously. Then the something that was bothering him clicked in his head and he said, ‘When did you kill someone?'

Simon didn't say anything.

Ellis looked at Simon again, then to the house. The dogs had stopped. Ellis smiled. ‘Lying. Getting us to fight. Trying to get us to make some noise and – they'd hear. Always thinking, but not so you can catch him. See.' Ellis punched down on Simon's face, sending him down onto the road.

Ned stepped forward, drawing his knife back to stab Simon while he was down, but Ellis got the pistol in Ned's face before he could go all the way. Ned looked into the pistol and stood up slowly.

Ellis waited till he saw Ned get it and go soft and obedient. Then he turned back to Simon, ‘Come on hero. Shout out. Shout out and I'll shoot you and the gun will make a big noise and you'll save this guy. Do it.'

Simon pushed himself back up to sitting. There was blood on his cheek from the pistol blow.

Ellis watched, ready, his feet moving up and down, keeping the balance, ready, his finger straining on the trigger, ready.

Simon swallowed, but then he reached a hand to his throat and gave a little cough, spitting up some blood. He let out a big long sigh, giving it up, and turned to look at Ellis. Not at Ellis. At the end of the gun barrel in front.

Ellis smiled. He wasn't going to shout. He had nothing. Ellis nearly pulled the trigger, right then, just to do it. He only just stopped at the last fraction of a moment by pulling the gun away and holding it out behind to Ned. ‘Here.'

Ned took it but stayed and Ellis turned around to see him looking at the gun, confused.

Ellis said, ‘Go for his face. The jockey. You let him get close and you shoot him in the face. So he'll go down for sure. But then you got to do that last shot in the head, Ned. That's the kill shot. The make sure you done your business.'

Ned turned the gun from one side to the other. ‘I got this Ellis. I got it.'

Ellis took Ned's knife. ‘You fuck this up, I'll fuck you up, Ned. You know I will.' He turned away from Ned, not even watching him go.

He dragged Simon up by his shirt. ‘Simon and me, we'll be watching. Two expert killers. Giving you a score maybe.'

Ellis took Simon by the hair and steered him around to the passenger side where he pushed him in and made him get to the driver's seat over the gearstick. Simon was being a lamb, but Ellis didn't trust him. Not since the caravan park. Once they were settled, Ellis said, ‘Don't do it? To pay you back? Like it was nothing important. Like saving my life all
those years ago was nothing to you. Like I'm ten cents?'

Ellis suddenly jabbed Simon's bicep with the tip of the knife.

Simon flinched away but didn't cry out.

‘You being brave, Simon? I like when people try that. It makes it last a bit longer.'

Ellis looked at the dot of blood growing on Simon's arm.

Simon wouldn't look at him, not even out of the corner of his grey eye like he had been doing when he was driving.

Ellis said, ‘I thought you'd do better though. I thought you'd save this guy.'

Nothing from Simon. He seemed to be looking out to the darkness ahead, trying to see past the edge of the headlights.

‘You could still call out. I'd kill you, but you'd save this person's life. Like you saved mine.'

Simon turned and said in a hoarse whisper, ‘You hit me in the throat, Ellis. Yelling out is not something I can actually do. Even if I was brave enough. Which I'm not.'

‘Yeah, that's right. Ha. I must admit you have a point with that, Simon. That was necessary, that first punch. Too much noise. But the sucker punch, the pistol whip, while you were down. Maybe that wasn't right. You hurt my feelings. Which I admit was kind of a good move. Trying to mess with my head there, about you're a killer too.'

Ellis sat, looking at the side of Simon's head. He looked at the knife and then back at Simon's head. He wondered about stabbing the knife in there, like he did with the taxi radio and maybe dig out Simon's secrets – see how it all worked.

‘I got it. You can't yell, sure. But you could beep your horn. You could hit that horn and keep leaning on it and those dogs would start up again, for sure. Look, I'll give you an even better chance.'

Ellis made a slow-motion show of carefully placing the knife in his bloody lap. ‘Simon, look. I haven't even got the knife anymore. Look.' Ellis raised them a foot above his lap. ‘Go for it, dude.'

Ned was having trouble negotiating the front yard in his thongs. It was dark and he kept banging his toes into scattered engine parts. He rested just past the car body near a big bush and looked back out to
the road. The taxi headlights could be seen easily, and Ned wondered if he should go back and tell Ellis to make Simon turn them off. Simon wouldn't bother him after he killed the jockey. It would be back to just Ellis.