He grumbled and faced the other way.
I heard the patter of feet, and within a few seconds I felt my arms pulled behind me and bound with a plastic tie. They weren’t rough, though—they were almost gentle.
“Got a weapon here,” said a voice, quickly followed by, “Got several weapons here.”
“Thursday, Thursday,” came the voice that had been behind the bullhorn. It was deep and earthy and was exactly how I expected Spike to sound. He was one of Thursday’s SpecOps pals—someone who had been more than happy to feature in the series. It was the only recognition he’d ever got.
“Spike?”
“Hello, old friend,” he said. “What have you got for us?”
“Keitel Potblack, head of the Swindon Stiltonistas,” I said,
“threatened to kill me, wanted to bribe me to block the repeal of prohibition and is also guilty of putting three of Goliath’s synthetic Thursdays under the Savernake Forest.”
“You’ve nothing to connect me with the Stiltonistas,” said Mr. Potblack. “I happened to be here pursuing a pote
ntial property development when I was set upon by this madwoman.”
“We’ve got a trunkful of Gorgonzola here,” said one of the armed officers. “At least fifty kilos.”
“For personal use,” said Potblack in an unconvincing tone of voice.
“And your armed associates?”
“I employed them as decorators this morning. I am shocked, shocked to discover they are armed.”
Spike helped me to my feet and walked me across to the front of the Rolls-Royce.
“It’s good to see you again, Thursday. The Cheese Squad will have a field day with this lot. How in heaven’s name did you nail Potblack of all people? We’ve been after him for years.”
“Let’s just say I have a magnetic personality.”
Spike laughed. “Still the same. Tell me, do you want to do some moonlighting? The undead are about to be culled again, and there aren’t many with Class IV zombie hunters’ licenses about—or at least none who don’t drool a lot and mumble.”
I thought carefully. “If I’m around tomorrow, I’m totally up for it.”
It was quite fun being her. I had a sudden thought.
“Spike, if you weren’t here to arrest Potblack, what were you here for?”
“We’ve been trailing you for the past hour, Thursday.”
“Why?”
“Because if we know you’re here, so will they.”
“‘They’ being . . . ?”
“Who else? Goliath.”
“I can handle them.”
“I don’t think so,” said Spike. “You’ve been gone a month, right?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Three weeks ago SpecOps announced it had been privatized. The Goliath Corporation now runs not only SpecOps but the police as well. Almost the first thing Goliath did was charge you with crimes against humanity, murder, theft, illegal possession of a firearm, the discharge of a weapon in a public place, murder, impersonating a SpecOps officer, cheese smuggling, assorted motoring offenses and murder. It’s quite a list. They must really hate you to dream up so many spurious charges.”