He's killed it, Connor thought. The fuel injection that would take the trike to a hundred and twenty miles an hour in two seconds, would burn out the guts of the machine. They would find it dead, but miles off.

The Shovelhead slammed down and Connor tore up and over, along the slope toward the road, the others streaming after, and the black mud flying.

The door opened.

It was not a dream attic from a storybook. Somehow, Stella had supposed it would be. There was nothing in it but for a sofa and a chair, a bed. This was only a room, with another door that might lead to a bathroom. Papers and books were stacked about. On a rail hung some expensive, beautiful clothes.

And by the window, which was of blank white glass, stood a girl, beautiful and expensive, like a final garment.

Nobbi's murderess.

The Vixen. Black fox. Death.

"I don't want any argument," said Stella, "I want you to come with me."

The girl moved from the window.

She was pale, she did not look dangerous, or mad. Under her eyes were patches of darkness. Her mouth was almost white, and very dry.

"All right."

"But I must warn you," said Stella, "if you resist, I'll hurt you."

"Will you?" asked the girl. She seemed almost interested.

Her eyes were full of wonder. It was like a black screen parting to reveal a darker, deeper black.

"Don't bring anything," said Stella.

"No."

The girl wore a white dress with a tight darted waist and a longish skirt, and pale suede boots.

"But take that coat," Stella said.

"This one?"

The girl took up the black coat from the chair back. She touched it, as if it were some dead animal which once she had loved.

"Do you know me?" Stella said. The girl was so compliant, surely Stella had been mistaken for someone expected.

"Oh, yes."

"Come along then."

They went outside, and Stella was ready for the girl

—Ruth—to make a dash for it. Stella would have broken her arms and her neck. She knew she could.

But the girl did not attempt escape. She stood quietly, attending, for Stella to lead her away.

"We'll go down now, and out of the house. Then along the road. There's a car waiting."

"Shall I go first?" asked Ruth.

"Just remember. Don't try to get away from me."

"Oh, I won't."

Where does she think I'm taking her? To safety? Out of confinement. Or does she think I'm a policewoman?

Stella and Ruth descended the silent house, and, as they did so, the noise came of the bikes flying across the slopes. But then that faded.

"That's right, Ruth."

Ruth walked before her. Her hair was like a silken mantle. Was this what he had seen, before—

They were on the staircase now. There, she had recalled the way without problems.