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- Ричард Морган
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I
drummed
my
fingers
on
the
wheel
while
the
lawyer
went
off
-
screen
and
found
myself
muttering
a
Millsport
fisherman
’
s
rap
to
the
rhythm
.
Outside
the
coast
slid
by
in
the
night
,
but
the
scents
and
sounds
of
the
sea
were
suddenly
all
wrong
.
Too
muted
,
not
a
trace
of
belaweed
on
the
wind
.
"
Here
we
are
.
"
Prescott
settled
herself
back
within
range
of
the
phone
scanner
,
looking
slightly
uncomfortable
.
"
Begin
’
s
Oakland
records
show
two
stints
in
biocabins
,
before
she
got
tenure
in
one
of
the
San
Diego
Houses
.
She
must
have
had
an
entrée
,
unless
it
was
a
talent
scout
that
spotted
her
.
"
Bancroft
would
have
been
quite
an
entrée
to
anywhere
.
I
resisted
the
temptation
to
say
it
.
"
You
got
an
image
there
?
"
"
Of
Begin
?
"
Prescott
shrugged
.
"
Only
a
two
-
d
.
You
want
me
to
send
it
.
"
"
Please
.
"
The
ancient
earphone
fizzled
a
bit
as
it
adjusted
to
the
change
of
incoming
signal
,
and
then
Leila
Begin
’
s
features
emerged
from
the
static
.
I
leaned
closer
,
scanning
them
for
the
truth
.
It
took
a
moment
or
two
to
find
,
but
it
was
there
.
"
Right
.
Now
can
you
get
me
the
address
of
that
place
Elizabeth
Elliott
worked
.
Jerry
’
s
Closed
Quarters
.
It
’
s
on
a
street
called
Mariposa
.
"
"
Mariposa
and
San
Bruno
,
"
Prescott
’
s
disembodied
voice
came
back
from
behind
Leila
Begin
’
s
full
service
pout
.
"
Jesus
,
it
’
s
right
under
the
old
expressway
.
That
’
s
got
to
be
a
safety
violation
.
"
"
Can
you
send
me
a
map
,
route
marked
through
from
the
bridge
?
"
