Bumping Uglies

Chapter Thirty Three

I exited the wharf via the archway and immediately looked around for any signs of Richard or Sophie. Black, greasy smoke that billowed from the stricken carcass of the burning narrowboat caught my nostrils and stung the back of my throat. Tiny flakes of ash fell round and about like snow, some still glowing like fireflies with the residual heat.

Neither Richard nor Sophie were anywhere to be seen.

For that matter, Ty and Charon had also vanished. The basin was deserted, save for Elira and Thatch on the bridge, who I could barely see through the smoke.

I was torn between checking on Elira, and the well-being of Thatch, and dashing off in an effort to catch Richard and Sophie. I owed Thatch in particular a debt of thanks for his timely intervention, without which it would be Ty and me lying in a pool of our own blood on the towpath, rather than the mangled form of Ardit.

I resolved to thank him later, but the most pressing matter was securing the laptop and keeping Sophie from coming to any harm. After all, I had no idea what Richard was actually capable of, and the Barman might not have fled the scene after all.

They had been heading past and behind the abandoned wharf building when I had last seen them, and so this was the direction I took.

Behind the wharf was a warren of industrial structures. Some were squat, decrepit and abandoned; presumably of the same vintage as the wharf and basin themselves. Others appeared to be more modern, with padlocked entrances and lurid hoardings.

I didn't fancy my chances of finding either of my quarry in here. They could be down any of a dozen alleys, inside any of the crumbling structures, or still chasing through them.

I stood at a crossroads of broken paving and rubbish-strewn alleys, wracked by indecision, until I heard a pained shout from a short distance away.

I trotted in the direction of the noise as fast as my battered and weary body would carry me. I was soon met with a scene of confrontation in a dead-end formed of a lock-up garage on one side and chain link fencing.

Sophie was sitting on the ground, cradling her left arm at the bicep. Richard stood above her wielding a short length of tubing that he must have scavenged from the fly-tipped and abandoned junk that had been dumped round and about. The tubing was raised as if to strike Sophie for a second time.

For her part, Sophie's face portrayed no fear, it was a vision of concentrated anger more than anything else.

I skidded to a halt and shouted at Richard, forcing as much authority and command into my voice as I could.

"Drop it!"

Richard looked up and saw me and panic spread across his features. Perhaps he was recalling the events on the narrowboat just an hour or so ago. He looked around him and, seeing no options, he dropped the tubing, snatched up the laptop from the floor and made to climb the chain-link fence.

He didn't strike me as a natural athlete at the best of times, but he appeared to still be somewhat dazed and was reduced to climbing with one arm as the other clung to the laptop.

In fairness, perhaps as a result of desperation, he made it higher off the ground than I would have assumed before his grip gave way and he crashed back onto the hard concrete with a yelp of pain.

I strode down the alley towards where that laptop had come to a skittering halt.

"I've been looking for you for a long time, Richard," I said calmly. I needed some cooperation out of the guy.

"Who the hell are you?" he spat at me, suddenly full of defiance. "Is this your new fuck-buddy?" he asked Sophie venomously. "No, of course not. Poor little Sophie; far too prosaic for something so Bohemian..." he continued.