It was ten minutes later and Corey sat in the rear of a taxi headed toward the Swamp. He asked the driver what time it was and the driver said twenty after four. Then the driver yawned. The taxi was moving very slowly and the driver steered with one hand, his free arm resting languidly across the top of the backrest. Ahead a signal light showed green and the driver made no effort to get through it before it flashed red. But when it was red the taxi went past it. A milk truck was crossing the intersection and the truck and the taxi almost collided. The driver of the truck leaned out and yelled, “You louse!” and the taxi driver waved wearily and said, “Go shove it—” and then let out another yawn.

“You sleepy?” Corey asked the taxi driver.

The driver didn’t answer. The taxi was crawling, doing less than twenty miles per hour.

“You wanna sleep, do it in bed,” Corey said.

The driver turned and looked at him.

“You heard me,” Corey said.

Facing the windshield, the driver muttered, “I like when they tell me how to drive.”

“You call this driving?”

The driver gave him another look. “Why don’t you relax?”

“All right,” Corey smiled dimly. “Let’s both relax.”

The taxi made a turn. Corey saw two tiny points of light sliding across the rearview mirror, then vanishing. Some moments later the points of light showed again in the rearview mirror. The taxi made another turn and it happened again.

The driver said, “I’m not hard to get along with. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Look, I’m not pushing you,” Corey said mildly. “Just get me there, all right?”

“Sure.” The driver sat up straighter and steered with both hands. The taxi picked up to thirty miles per hour. The rearview mirror showed two tiny points of light. The taxi made a turn; the points of light faded from view. Corey waited to see it again and it showed again. Now the taxi was nearing the bridge that connected the city with the Swamp. In the rearview mirror the twin lights were the eyes of a goblin saying, peek-a-boo, I see you. And then, crossing the bridge, the interior of the taxi was slashed with the ribboned reflections of the bridge lights and it interfered with the pattern in the mirror. Corey turned and looked through the rear window and saw the headlights far behind. The taxi was doing thirty-five. He said to the driver, “Slow down just a little.”

“What’s the matter now?”

“Just slow down. Not too much.”

The taxi continued across the bridge at a little over twenty-five miles per hour. Corey looked back at the headlights of the other car. The distance between the two cars remained the same.

Then the taxi came off the bridge and onto Addison Avenue and Corey said, “Make a turn. That next little street.”