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As
we
drove
back
along
the
promenade
,
something
had
changed
in
the
quiet
between
us
.
Something
that
,
like
the
gradually
waxing
light
of
dawn
around
the
car
,
was
at
once
intangible
and
impossible
to
ignore
.
When
we
pulled
up
outside
the
data
broker
’
s
frontage
,
Irene
Elliott
was
waiting
,
leaned
against
the
side
of
the
limo
and
watching
the
sea
.
There
was
no
sign
of
her
husband
.
"
Better
stay
here
,
"
I
told
Trepp
as
I
climbed
out
.
"
Thanks
for
the
coffee
.
"
"
Sure
.
"
"
I
guess
I
’
ll
be
seeing
you
in
my
rear
-
view
screen
for
a
while
,
then
.
"
"
I
doubt
you
’
ll
see
me
at
all
,
Kovacs
,
"
said
Trepp
cheerfully
.
"
I
’
m
better
at
this
than
you
are
.
"
"
Remains
to
be
seen
.
"
"
Yeah
,
yeah
.
Be
seeing
you
.
"
She
raised
her
voice
as
I
started
to
walk
away
.
"
And
don
’
t
fuck
up
that
run
.
We
’
d
all
hate
to
see
that
happen
.
"
She
backed
up
the
car
a
dozen
metres
and
kicked
it
into
the
air
in
a
showy
,
dropped
-
nose
bunt
that
shattered
the
quiet
with
a
shriek
of
turbines
and
barely
cleared
our
heads
before
flipping
up
and
out
over
the
ocean
.
