by Robert Young
*
Everything goes into a strange sort of hyperactive slow motion at that point, Campbell pulling away from the three armed men, hauling Hogg away from them too.
Vincent has his own gun out so fast that Campbell can’t take in the smooth swift action of the draw, like the piece just jumped into his hand through his clothes. Rookes responds fast too, but as good as he is, he’s a beat off the pace.
There is shouting and gesturing and the look of terror on Lawson’s face, stuck in the middle of all three barrels, is all too familiar to Campbell. Pure and undiluted fear, like every single nightmare arriving at once.
Hogg seems paralysed too, and stumbles backwards, his legs stiff as Campbell pulls at the man’s collar.
Vincent steps in closer to Lawson, the better to shield himself from the other two men. Lawson feels it and panics, knowing he is a human-shield now and he begins to move toward Horner, pleading for help, for calm and a solution that has long since passed out of reach.
As he goes Vincent goes with him, rather than retreat toward the doorway. It may be an escape route, but he’ll be exposed with two guns on him, so he elects to stay and play this out. Campbell realises what Horner knows, that Lawson is still valuable. Only he knows exactly where all the CDS contracts are held and how to access them, and Horner needs that more than anything.
He is too far gone now to simply let the trades happen on their own. That might pay back those of his enemies he is seeking to placate, to pay his own ransom, but without Lawson’s information, he’ll be left destitute. He simply isn’t capable of accepting that. He has already fallen too far.
When the first shot is fired, it is too loud in the enclosed space to immediately locate the source and he cannot tell, in the crowded room and the shifting bodies, who has pulled his trigger.
Vincent has shifted forward and away from them all, trying to keep Lawson between Horner in front at the desk, and Rookes who is to his right. There is a space opening up near the door and Campbell sees that he and Hogg are closest to it and that none of the other men are paying them any attention.
He moves, pulling Hogg, just a step. Vincent swings his gun toward them but then quickly back to the position over Lawson’s shoulder where he tries to cover the other men. Rookes checks them too and Campbell sees his wide eyes lock on him for a second. Rookes might not realise that Lawson is valuable, but he believes that Hogg and Campbell are and that they need to be kept close to finish the scam and help Rookes collect his fee.
Campbell notices a hole in the wall over Horner’s shoulder and realises that it’s the intruder who has shot first, a warning perhaps, but fire has not been returned. Rookes is taking his cue from Horner and holds back for now, but keeps shifting his feet to get a better angle on his target.
Lawson cries out Horner’s name in anguish and he sees Horner fix his gaze on him and then very quickly drop his eyes, just a flash of movement. Lawson seems to pause and then a glimmer of acknowledgement. Campbell sees this unfold and understands, Horner is telling Lawson to drop fast to give him a clear shot.
As he does so, the noise peaks again as Lawson shouts in terror, Horner bellows at the other man to drop his weapon and then Rookes spots Campbell and Hogg breaking for the door.
From the corner of his eye he can see the dark eyed man swinging his gun around at them as they bolt and he can see Rookes exploding off the balls of his feet after them. He hears the shot and it seems to drive him faster through the opening and into the hallway, shoving Hogg before him, the quickest the big man has moved in his life.
He feels nothing and doesn’t stop but he hears a roar of pain and more gunfire. Rookes may have taken the bullet that was meant for he or Hogg, but if that were true, Horner surely would have had an open shot on Vincent to take him down. Campbell made no attempt to stop and check.
They were through the front door and into sunlight now, down the porch steps and across the lawn at full speed. A car with an unlocked door sat at the curb - the gunman’s? - and the keys still in the ignition. Was he truly expecting just to walk in and out of the house that fast and take his money? What had Lawson told him?
No matter. They clambered in and did not look back, not until they were deep into Georgetown traffic.
SIXTY EIGHT
Hogg was treading a line between scared and excited. He knew that running from them made him a target but he was also thrilled to be free.
There had been no illusions about Campbell’s status after he returned from the sea. He was a captive pure and simple. But with Hogg there had been a pretence, maintained for some time, that he was there voluntarily. Being confined to one room for most of the time and escorted and shadowed for the rest was passed off as a necessity for the job they were doing. But Campbell had finally convinced him otherwise. In fact he was surprised that it had taken as long as it had for Hogg to face facts. Fear had him in the firm grip of denial.
It had been enough to make Hogg panic and confront Horner and try to make a deal. But trying to make a deal when you were that obviously terrified was like playing poker with your whole hand showing.
Campbell knew that Hogg still held on to some of the blame for Lisa’s death but Campbell felt otherwise. His actions may have acted as a catalyst, but nothing more. It was Campbell who had put her in that room, Campbell and Horner. At any point he could have kept her at arm’s length, but even when he began to see the danger that was unfolding he had failed to push her to a safe distance. He could have stopped her getting on the plane, could have stopped himself getting into her bed.
So it was he and Horner who shared the responsibility for her death and Hogg, though he would carry guilt with him for a long time, was as much a victim as she had been. He had been ambivalent enough to ignore the early signs that something wasn’t right, and got himself involved all the same. But he could have had no idea how wrong it all was, nor the ultimate consequences of his misjudgement, and he would have to live with those.
Campbell found a space in the car park outside Hogg’s apartment and looked over at him shifting nervously in the seat, eyes darting about for any sign of Horner’s men.
‘Let’s get in and out fast. Grab what you need and nothing else.’
‘Sure,’ nodded Hogg. ‘What if someone’s there?’
‘Rookes is behind us if he’s even moving; I’m pretty sure he took a bullet from that guy Vincent as he came after us.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah, well that’s karma right? Anyway, it’s only the meatheads that might be there and I can’t see why they’d be hanging around an empty apartment. If Rookes didn’t have them with him earlier when he picked us up, they’ve probably been stood down.’
‘Yeah, but after all that, he’ll be on the phone to them surely?’
‘In which case, they’re maybe getting in a car now. So let’s get out of here before they arrive.’
Hogg thinks on that a moment and then heads for the apartment.
They are in luck. Campbell’s guess seems right and they grab passports and backpacks, stuffing a few items in that seem essential and soon it is Hogg dragging Campbell through a doorway.
‘Come on, let’s just get moving,’ he says.
Campbell follows him to the car and starts the ignition.
‘What now then?’
‘Get the hell out of here. Off the island, soon as we can.’
‘Airport?’ says Campbell.
Hogg shakes his head. ‘No. Well, not both of us. I think we should split up.’
Campbell is surprised at this. He’s been assuming that Hogg will need more hand-holding but now they’re neck-deep in genuine danger he seems to have achieved a degree of calm focus.
‘Drop me in town and then get yourself to the airport,’ Hogg instructs him.
‘What’s your plan?’
‘Divide and conquer. We split up it makes it harder for them to track us both, easier for us to confuse them.’
‘Divide and conq
uer? I’m not sure that means what you think it does.’
Hogg shrugs. ‘Yeah, well, I’m improvising.’
In town they part with the briefest of words and Campbell gets on the road to the island’s only airport. He parks the car in a distant corner of the car park.
A thought strikes him as he steps through the doors and begins to scan the departure boards. He wonders whether in the few days since he arrived here, whether his bag has arrived. He makes his way to lost property where a very laid back gentleman has a leisurely hunt around the half-full room, then produces his hold-all.
Campbell grins at him and rummages in his pocket for a few dollars to tip the man who looks surprised to receive the $50 that is the only note that Campbell can locate. An unexpected break for both of them.
He heads back to the main departure hall and scans the boards looking for flights out.
Approaching a ticket desk he asks the woman smiling at him if the New York flight is on time.
‘It is,’ she says.
‘And are there any seats?’
‘Uh,’ she taps the keyboard, scans the screen. ‘Yes, several.’
‘OK, great. How much?’
‘Business or Economy?’
‘Economy,’ he says.
The transaction takes only a few minutes before the ticket is in his hand but the time drags and stretches like a Dali clock. He fights the urge to keep staring at the entrance and simply maintain a calm demeanour but the woman at the keyboard doesn’t notice his agitation, or doesn’t care.
As she passes the ticket to him and wishes him a pleasant flight he feels the familiar buzz of his phone in his pocket and pulls it out.
The number on screen is not one he knows and he stares at it, frozen. Is it long-distance, maybe Steve checking in on him? Or perhaps Horner or Rookes are going to try to reason or bargain with him. Or threaten him.
No. Surely not.
‘Sir?’ says the woman and here eyes are flicking over his shoulder. Campbell spins as he sees and feels the looming shape of someone standing close behind.
He starts and steps back but the man is a stranger. Just another customer in the queue.
‘Sorry. Go ahead,’ he says to the man and steps aside. The phone buzzes in his hand again.
Hell with it.
‘Yes?’
‘Finally. I thought maybe you’d managed to lose your phone or something.’ Hogg’s voice is clear and loud and very welcome.
‘Jesus, I nearly didn’t answer.’
‘Oh yes, this is a disposable phone. Pay-as-you-go thing I just picked up. How you getting on?’
‘Well, I found my bag,’ he says, suddenly uneasy about the idea of saying too much over the phone.
‘Your bag? That’s a result,’ he says. ‘Change of underwear!’
‘Need it after all that.’
‘No kidding. Heart’s still going like I’ve had a pint of espresso. You got a plan?’
Campbell says nothing for a moment, feeling his paranoia get a foot in the door. ‘Yeah, I-‘
‘Don’t need to tell me. Probably best you don’t.’
‘Sure, I guess. You? You OK?’
Hogg ignores the question. ‘Look, you’ll find there’s been a deposit in your account. Go anywhere you want. Stay anywhere, as long as you like. Keep moving. Change your name, get surgery…’
It takes a moment to register what Hogg is telling him but it clicks soon enough. Hogg has sent him money from Horner’s fake bank to his own very real one.
‘Wait, how?’
‘Been busy. Got the phone and then got online. I’ve sorted us both out with cash from Icarus and in less than an hour I’ll be embarking on the trip of a lifetime.’ These last words he says in the manner of a game show host.
‘You what?’
‘Never been on a cruise. I can see the boat out the window right now. She’s a beauty.’
Campbell starts laughing, marvelling at what Hogg’s managed to achieve in such a short spell.
‘Seriously, have you seen some of these cruise ship freaks? I’ve got to go buy some awful clothes just to fit in.’
‘Caspar,’ says Campbell. ‘You going to be OK?’
‘You can’t hear me shrugging right now, but that’s what is happening,’ Hogg replies but it is clear that the jocular tone is bravado. ‘Who knows Dan, but at least we both have a shot now right?’
‘Yeah. Good luck.’
‘I’ll keep this number a while if you need to get in touch from wherever you end up.’
‘Sure. Thanks.’
‘Daniel? What do you think we should do about Horner’s big scheme?’
‘Can you trash it?’
‘Don’t know. Not sure I have the machines and the info I need here. Or the time. Can we tell someone? Anonymous tip off?’
Campbell chews it over. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But we can’t let him win can we?’
‘I guess. But the last time I ruined his plans is what led to all this. Maybe it’s just best not to make the bad guys angry.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You know what Caspar? I’ve been trying so hard to avoid a boring life and find some action that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bored.’
‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’
Campbell nods and says nothing.
‘Look after yourself,’ says Hogg. ’Keep your head down.’
SIXTY NINE
At check-in, the friendly attendant asks if he is travelling alone. She looks him over and then smiles and offers to bump him to business class with the airline’s compliments. He has after all paid the high-cost, last minute ticket price. He wonders for a second whether the attendant’s decision is down to an appreciation of his rugged good looks, but then catches his reflection in the glass behind the desk and figures that it is more likely pity has motivated her act of kindness.
In the air now and enjoying the comforts of Business Class, he has time to chew over what he’s been through and what next. He had a gnawing sense of guilt at all that cash in his account. He could probably get by on what Hogg had put there for the rest of his life and never work again, but that troubled him. It was all Horner’s dirty money, conjured up with his lies and manipulation. It was tainted and though he had little choice but to use it now to get himself away and to safety, the idea of living off that ill-gotten wealth seemed wrong.
He’d tell himself that he deserved it after all he’d experienced at the hands of Michael Horner, and not just with Scorpio and there in the Cayman Islands. Back in London too, years back, with the gatecrasher and all the chaos and trauma that had brought. He’d tell himself that it was well-earned after everything, that this was his compensation. But there was no getting past that word; tainted.
Everything thing he did in future, everything that the money might allow him to do and to buy would carry a stain and he would always see Michael Horner in the corner of his mind, making sure he never forgot where it came from.
It was irrational and he tried to shrug it off. There was so much there and he wanted to find a way to let himself be OK with it. He’d worked in finance for so long that he no longer thought of money in an emotional way as some people did. The way people would inherit it from dead parents and attach a sentimental value to the pounds and pence, like these numbers were different from those other ones. Or to view hard-saved capital differently from an easy windfall.
But this was different and windfall though it may have been, Campbell would never be able to separate the knowledge of its origin from the simple mathematics. It would always carry the stain of Lisa’s blood.
He skimmed the in-flight magazine and picked at the in-flight meal and mulled over Horner’s scheme. He and Hogg had ultimately dodged a decision on whether to sabotage the whole thing. It was set up and ready to go as they had told Horner, all the instructions and timings in place, so doing nothing now would allow it all to play out. The bad guys would get rich and Horne
r would be free of their vengeful anger at last. Would that be enough for him? He and Hogg had run and would look to melt away and disappear, but would Horner accept that and let them go? Horner himself would be free now after all and if Lawson had handed over all the information on the CDS then Horner would make his money too.
What then? Hogg was right; keep your head down. He intended to. But would he need to worry about being pursued or would Horner take the success of his scheme as sufficient to move on? He’d put Campbell through hell - almost killed him, shot his girlfriend dead in front of him. Maybe Horner would reflect that the trauma and psychological wounds he’d inflicted would satisfy his need for revenge. Knowing that Campbell would suffer with the scars of his experiences for the rest of his life should appeal to a man of such abiding spite.
Eventually the exhaustion overrode the mental fidgeting and he drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. There were dreams and in them he was drowning again, deep under the ocean, and then locked in a room again, his wrists bound with coarse rope. There was a cold draft and a squeaky window that sounded like a mouse, and there was the low guttural growl of a man threatening to kill all the people he loved. Later he saw Lisa. She was smiling and crying at the same time and telling him it was OK.
But when he woke, Campbell knew it had been a dream and he knew that it wasn’t OK. Not at all.
SEVENTY
His bag gets through luggage claim far more smoothly than in Grand Cayman and as he shuffles through immigration, the cold, flat look he gets from the border officer scares the life out of him but he tells himself this is what they do to everyone and keeps calm and expressionless and soon enough he’s through.
He takes dollars from a cashpoint and stuffs his wallet. He’s not yet decided on his moral quandary, but for now he is driven by necessity and he figures that paying for things with cash instead of cards is a simple and obvious precaution.
That works fine for him in the cab and the driver takes the tip off him with the requisite lack of grace that he expects from a New York cab driver. Then he hits Manhattan and still has no real plan but it’s late in the city and he need somewhere to sleep. This is where the paying with cash plan comes unstitched.
The hotel ask for his passport and his credit card and insist that even if he is intending to pay up front in cash for the room, the card is required as a security deposit. Should there be anything else to settle up on check-out he’ll have the choice at that point how to pay.
It is, of course, an entirely reasonable request for them to make and the longer that he stands there chewing it over, the more suspicious he looks. He considers turning on his heel and walking out, but then imagines how that will look, whether it will be on camera; the guy who got spooked when we asked him for the standard check in stuff and bailed.
Getting his passport and credit cards checked and scanned are not what Hogg had in mind when he told him to keep his head down and as he considers the other man and how he’s faring, escaping from Horner at a leisurely pace aboard the cruise ship, the world’s most slow-motion getaway, it occurs to him that if Horner were trying to find ways to locate him by tracking down his passport or credit card it would be Hogg he would be using to do it.
At best, Horner will have survived the armed scuffle with Vincent - he had a gun pointed at him when Campbell had bolted, whilst VIncent had been aiming his at Rookes - and Horner may or may not have lost one of Rookes or Lawson but Dusan and Hari would be on his case by now, all over him to make sure that nothing else went wrong before the trades completed and they got paid. Maybe they’d extract more from him if they got wind of the CDS contracts Lawson had been setting up. No, he figures, Horner had his hands full.
‘I’ll take the suite,’ he says turning back to the desk and sliding his passport and credit card across the smooth marble of the countertop.
‘Of course sir. We’ll have your bags taken up.’
Campbell looked down at the holdall hanging on his shoulder. ‘I’m good.’
The suite was, by the standards of the accommodation he’s experienced since he left London, plush. He walked around and spread his arms so as to better occupy the space.
He ran a deep, hot bath and flicked channels on the huge television and then perused the menu and considered room service.
The bed was vast and exquisitely comfortable and he flopped on it after the bath and dozed for an hour before gunfire woke him. He turned the TV down and decided that something from the bar might settle his jangling nerves and it was only after a stiff drink that he finally accepted that he was avoiding, very determinedly, giving further thought to what exactly he was going to do next.
Keep your head down, Hogg had said and the words had chased him through the skies to New York. They had dogged him and spooked him enough that the thought of heading back to London seemed a bad idea. They’d know where to look for him in London, if they wanted to look. And as full as Horner’s hands might be, he was still not an adversary to be taken lightly nor his capacity for holding a grudge underestimated.
So New York seemed like a good place to get lost in, but only for a short spell and only as a way to create a confusing trail for anyone that might seek to track him.
The cash would buy him bus or train tickets and he considered heading off to somewhere relatively close like Boston or Washington from where he could get on another plane and keep making himself hard to track for a while. Europe would be easier to disappear into. As a citizen of the EU he might find it easier to move around and cross through its more relaxed borders, move city to city, mountain to coast.
Canada was a big place though. A big place with wild open expanses that might swallow up a man who sought solitude and had the means and the will to sustain himself that way for a time. Perhaps a road trip to the West Coast of the US. Buy a car for cash, drive it to the Pacific and then decide whether to go north or south. Mexico might be fun to go back to. Find some of the backpacking spots he’d stopped in on his travels, maybe keep heading south and make for the Inca Trail. Actually do it this time.
When he finally fell asleep, wrapped in the soft embrace of the goose down quilt, Campbell had located several shards of hope within himself he’d feared might be forever lost.
SEVENTY ONE
He sleeps late, the exhaustion of the preceding days taking their toll on him. He calls down for breakfast, which they tell him they are no longer serving, given the lateness of the hour, but can arrange for an omelette and a pot of coffee to be sent up.
The food is good and the coffee hot and fresh and both hit the spot. After a hot shower and some fresh clothes he feels ready to start doing something, making some plans, maybe some decisions.
He heads for the lobby and asks at the desk if there are any computers and internet access and is pointed to a corner of the lobby where there is seating and several PCs.
The cavernous space of the hotel lobby seems serene despite the number of people that are coming and going and Campbell picks his way across the space, dodging the baggage carts and the tourists milling around until he steps from the marble floor onto the carpeted area with the computer terminals.
It takes him a moment to register what he sees next and things seem to shift into a slower speed, the sounds around him dimmed, the activity somehow more distant. Or perhaps he is just more focused on the man in the chair who has just looked over his shoulder and smiled.
Giles Lawson. He has no right to look so pleased to see him and suddenly Campbell isn’t moving slowly anymore, he’s moving fast, striding across the carpet with purpose, his hands balled into fists.
A voice stops him short, stops him right in his tracks and he snaps his head around to the source. Rookes is seated on the sofa, the top of his head barely above the line of the cushion where he’s sunk in so far.
’Ah, here he is,’ says Rookes. ‘I’m sure there’s something to be said here about the early bird catching the worm.’
Campbell says nothing at all. Just star
es at Rookes. How did they get to him so fast?
Rookes has his left arm in a sling and he shrugs it at Campbell. ‘Took one in the shoulder, so this is sort of for show, but it does hurt like a bastard if I move it much. Ever been shot?’
Campbell shakes his head dumbly and notes the implicit threat.
‘Good for you,’ says Rookes and he stares back at Campbell for a long while letting the idea of getting shot linger in the air. ‘OK, well, things to do. To the room?’
Reluctantly Campbell acquiesces, seeing no other option. He considers bolting for the door, but the way Rookes is resting his right hand inside the sling and the suggestion about being shot tells him that Rookes has come armed. A crowded hotel lobby is certainly rather public and the streets of New York City, always well policed with armed officers, is no place to be pulling out a gun. But at the same time, Campbell knows full well that Rookes is not a man that lacks the will to act decisively. Moreover, he might have his goons in tow and watching the exits.
His spirits sag and the only thing that stops him collapsing with resignation is his fury at Lawson. Rookes, for all the things he’s done, has at least been on the level. Lawson however, has been leading Campbell into this trap from the moment he met him over the wrong champagne at the nightclub.
They ride the lift in silence and in the room Rookes tells him about the way it played out in Horner’s office. Campbell’s guess was good. With Rookes trying to cover he and Hogg, Vincent had been distracted and taken a shot; at Rookes, at the two men fleeing the scene, who knew? But Rookes had been swift of foot and got himself in the doorway before the trigger was pulled.
Horner had then been granted ample opportunity to take careful aim with his own handgun and put three rounds into the man’s chest and as he had sat there, drawing desperate ragged breaths and staring at the sucking chest wound, Rookes had picked himself up, retrieved his dropped gun, and administered the coup de grace with a shot to Vincent’s temple.
He was in no state to drive and give chase to Campbell and Hogg after that though and Horner had decided that getting him and the body tidied up was more important. Rookes got himself patched up whilst the two meatheads got busy on body disposal and carpet cleaning.
’No-one was chasing us?’ asked Campbell, oddly put out at the news.
Rookes shook his head. ‘Horner figured that there were more immediate concerns what with the corpse and getting this guy to catch him up on whatever it is he’d been doing.’ He points at Lawson like he’s an object, lumpen and inconvenient. ‘Besides, he’d had you guys arrange everything for automation right? So he didn’t need you on hand to execute the whole thing.’
‘So, why now? So fast?’
‘Well he might not need you both to carry out the whole scam for him, but that doesn’t mean he’s decided to get religion and turn the other cheek. And as I understand it, he’s not keen on witnesses. You didn’t think he’d really let you walk?’
‘Guess not. How so fast? He doesn’t have Hogg to do his thing.’
‘No, but our new friends and associates do, so to speak. Hari has people he can call to do that sort of thing. He’d picked up your credit card the moment they scanned it here.’
He nodded. Keep your head down, Hogg had said. Campbell found himself hoping that at least Hogg was doing a better job of it wherever he was.
A silence descended and Campbell found himself looking from Rookes to Lawson and not understanding. It was clear enough why Horner would have sent his security man in pursuit, but not so clear what Lawson was there for. He felt his anger start to flare again as he stared at Lawson, remembering the first time they’d met, the strange encounter he’d been set up for in the bathroom of the Mayfair wine bar, the way he’d been manipulating Lisa, the damage he’d wreaked. Even Vincent had died because of Lawson, a stranger to all of it. For what?
Rookes caught the look on his face and watched Lawson start to squirm in the chair.
‘Yes, him. We’re not entirely done it seems. Something about dealing with some of the CDS?’
Lawson nodded and cleared his throat. ‘Yeah. We need to tie down a couple of guys here in the city before the plan drops tomorrow. Horner wants to put us both in the room with the issuers to keep them from faltering.’
‘Faltering?’
‘Yes. There’s been a suggestion that they’re going to cancel the contracts. Might have heard some rumour about the veracity of the companies they’ve sold cover on.’
Hogg.
’You mean they’ve seen through the bullshit? How many? How many are getting twitchy?’
‘Just these two. No other word that there’s any other problems but Michael wants to plug all leaks. If these two cancel, news might find its way to other issuers and then there’s a problem.’
Rookes was nodding. ‘However all this works, this is the way Horner gets paid and that’s how Horner pays me. So it needs to work and you need to make sure of that.’
‘Two of Scorpio’s brightest, in town for meetings and making a stop off to reassure some business associates that all is well and rumour and hearsay are not the basis for operating a profitable business,’ says Lawson. He’s been coached by Horner, it seems plain enough, but then that’s been true all along. Campbell realises that he knows nothing about this man, has seen only an act from the beginning. Even now it’s a facade. Campbell wonders how many times he could punch him before Rookes would intervene. He fancies the security man might enjoy just sitting and watching for a little while.
‘The meetings are set for this afternoon, so Giles here will catch you up on the details of the deal so you’ll sound convincing when you’re keeping your doubters from doubting.’
Lawson pulls a sheaf of papers from his shoulder bag.
‘Pretty straightforward really. You know these companies inside out by now, and I know the CDS contracts so we’ve got it covered between us.’
They sit down at the table in a corner of the suite and Campbell tries to focus on the task at hand, the better to distract himself from thinking about landing knuckles on Lawson’s chin, or the hawk-like watch of Rookes in the armchair.