The front of the Mondeo had tangled with the Bentley, with the result that the two cars had been locked together during their slide across the road. The Ford had continued onward so that it was now facing down the road in the wrong direction.

Chase got out, stared at the damage, then turned to Jackson. “What are you doing, man?”

Jackson turned. “What am I doing? You ran the light, you dick!”

“I was on green. You ran the light. Look.”

He pointed across the road to where Ziggy had switched the light back to red.

Jackson was distracted. It was now or never.

Milton closed in.

“This is Ziggy. The doors are unlocked.”

* * *

The crash had blocked the road in all directions, and traffic was snarling up on both the main road and the road from which Chase had emerged. An older woman was getting out of a Fiat Punto and, behind her, two men in a white panel van were watching proceedings with obvious interest.

“My light was green,” Chase protested.

“Mine was green,” Jackson said.

Chase shook his head. “You must have run the red.”

Jackson got a little closer. “What are you?”

Chase looked back down the road and saw Milton. He was walking toward the stricken Bentley.

“What do you mean?”

“Your accent. What are you—American?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“What does it have to do with anything? You drive on the other side of the road. Maybe you think you can drive through a red light.”

“It’s the same,” he said. “And, anyway, it was green.”

The old woman behind him stepped forward. “It was green.”

“Mind your business,” Jackson snapped.

“I think maybe the police would like to know what happened,” she said, standing her ground.

“No one asked you,” Jackson spat. “Go back to your car and drive away.”

Milton was at the car now. Chase didn’t need to hold Jackson for much longer.

The old woman took out a phone from her purse and tapped the screen.

“What are you doing?” Jackson said.

“Calling the police. You could’ve killed him.”

“Put it away,” Jackson said.

He took a step toward her and reached out with his left hand, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking the phone away from her ear.

Chase reached over and took Jackson’s wrist, forcing it down and away from the woman. He left himself open to what he suspected might come next, knowing that a moment of pain would be worth it to seal his unfortunate antagonist’s fate. Chase left his chin undefended, inviting Jackson to strike him, and he did just that, a right-handed jab that landed on the side of his jaw.

His vision sparked with little detonations of light as he stumbled back. He went down on one knee.

Chase heard sirens from somewhere close at hand.

The woman screamed.

* * *