He couldn't follow both of them even if he could Prove a connection between them, which he could not. Chetti Singh, he repeated the name and the box number to fix it firmly in his mind. Then ran back to where Jock waited in the Landcruiser.
Who was that? What did he say? Jock wanted to know. He saw the refrigerator trucks heading south about an hour ago. We're going after them. He pulled out of the lay-by and they raced on southwards at their top speed.
The road began to climb the hills that led up on to the high central plateau, and the Landcruiser's speed bled off slowly, but still they were doing around 70 miles an hour.
Jock had not spoken again since they had met Chetti Singh, but his features were drawn and nervous in the light reflected from the instrument panel. He kept glancing sideways at Daniel as if he were about to protest, but then thought better of it.
The road went into a series of gentle curves as it followed the gradient of the hills. They came through the next curve and without warning one of the white refrigerator trucks blocked the road ahead of them. It was travelling at half the speed of the Landcruiser and diesel smoke belched out of its exhausts as it laboured upwards in low gear. The driver was holding the middle line of the highway, not leaving sufficient space for Daniel to pass him.
Daniel sounded his horn and flicked his spotlights on and off to induce the truck to move over, but it never wavered. Move over, you murdering bastard, Daniel snarled, and hit the horn button with another prolonged blast. Take it easy, Daniel, Jock pleaded. You're going over the top.
Cool it, man. Daniel swung the Landcruiser out on to the far verge of the road, into an overtaking position, and he sounded the horn again. Now he could see the wing mirror on the cab of the truck and reflected in it the face of the driver.
The driver was Gomo. He was watching Daniel in the mirror but making no effort to give way and let him pass. His expression was a mixture of fear and ferocity, of guilt and bitter resentment. He was deliberately blocking the road, swinging wide on the corners and weaving the truck back and across when Daniel tried to pass him on the wrong side. He knows it's us, Daniel told Jock angrily. He knows we've been back to Chiwewe and seen the bloody business there. He knows we suspect him, and he's trying to hold us off Come on, Danny.
That's all in your head, man.
There could be a dozen explanations for why he's behaving like this.
I don't want any part of this crazy business. Too late, my friend, Daniel told him. Like it or not, you're part of it now. Daniel pulled the Landcruiser sharply back in the opposite direction. For once Gomo was slow to react and get across the road to block him. Daniel dropped a gear and thrust the accelerator flat. The Landcruiser jumped forward and got round the truck's tall tail-end. Still holding the accelerator flat to the floorboards, Daniel drew level with the cab, squeezing through the gap between the steel side of the hull and the edge of the road.
Only the nearside wheels of the Landcruiser had purchase on the tarmac surface, the off-side wheels were on the verge of the highway, throwing up a spray of loose gravel, dangerously close to the edge that fell away steeply into the Zambezi valley below them. Danny, you mad bastard, Jock yelled angrily. You'll get us both killed. I've had enough of this bullshit, man. The Landcruiser hit one of the concrete road-markers with its reflective cat's-eye that warned of the dangerous drop. With a crash they snapped off the road sign, and swayed dangerously, but Daniel held grimly to the outside berth and inched up alongside the cab of the lumbering truck.
Gama stared down at the Landcruiser from the vantage point of the high cab. Daniel leant forward to see him, lifted one hand from, the wheel and made a peremptory hand signal for him to pull over and stop.
Gomo nodded and obeyed, swinging the truck back to the left, giving way to the Landcruiser.
That's more like it, Daniel grated, and edged back into the space alongside the truck that Gomo had opened for him. He had fallen into the trap and let down his guard. The two vehicles were still grinding along side by side, and Gomo suddenly spun the driving-wheel hard back in the opposite direction. Before Daniel could react, the truck crashed into the side of the Landcruiser and a shower of sparks blazed from the violent contact of steel against steel. The weight and momentum of the huge truck flung the smaller vehicle back over the verge.
Daniel fought the wheel to try and resist the thrust but the struts flew through his fingers and he thought for a moment that his left thumb was dislocated. The pain numbed him to the elbow. He hit the brakes hard and the Landcruiser slowed and allowed the truck to pull ahead, with a shriek of metal between the two vehicles as they disengaged. The Landcruiser came to rest, half over the embankment with one front wheel hanging over the cliff face.
Daniel wrung his injured hand, tears of agony welling into his eyes.
Gradually he felt strength return, and with it his anger. By now the truck was five hundred yards ahead and pulling away rapidly.
With the Landcruiser in four-wheel drive, Daniel flung her into reverse.
Only three of her wheels had purchase, but she heaved herself gamely back from the drop. Her near side was scraped down to bare gleaming metal where the truck had struck her. Okay, Daniel snarled at Jock.
Do you want any more proof? That was a deliberate attempt to write us off. That bastard Gomo is guilty as hell. The truck had disappeared from view around the next curve of the highway, and Daniel hurled the Landcruiser in pursuit. Gomo isn't going to let us get ahead of him, Daniel told Jock. I'm going to get on to that truck and take him out of it. I want no more part of this business, Jock muttered. Leave it to the police now, damn it. Daniel ignored his protest and pushed the Landcruiser to its top speed. As they came through the bend the refrigerator truck was only a few hundred yards ahead. The gap between them closed swiftly.
Daniel studied the other vehicle. The scrape marks down its side were not as extensive as the damage to the Landcruiser and Gama was making better speed now as the slope of the hill eased away towards the crest of the escarpment. The double rear doors into the cargo hold were locked with a heavy vertical bar. The airtight seats were black rubber around the edge of the doors. On the nearside of the hull a steel ladder gave access to the flat roof where the cooling fans of the refrigeration equipment were housed in fibreglass pods. I'm going to get on that ladder, Daniel told Jock. As soon as I'm gone, you slide over and grab the wheel. Not me, man. I told you, I've had a gutful.
Count me out. Fine. Daniel did not even glance at him. Don't steer!
Let her crash and you with her. What's one stupid prick less in this naughty world? Daniel was judging the speed and distance between the two converging vehicles. He opened his side door. The retaining catch on the door had been removed to allow unimpeded photography through the opening so the door hinged fully open, to lie flat against the side of the bonnet.
Steering with one hand, Daniel leaned out of the open door. Take her, she's yours, he shouted at Jock. Daniel hauled himself up on to the roof, the pain in his thumb forgotten. At that moment Gomo once again swung across to block the Landcruiser.
As the two vehicles came together Daniel leaped across the narrow gap. He caught the rung of the side ladder and hauled his lower body out from between the steel sides of the vehicles as they clashed together again.
He had a glimpse of Jock at the driver's wheel, pale-faced and sweating in the reflected headlights. Then the Landcruiser swerved away and fell behind the white truck, Jock steering it erratically, letting the slope slow it, finally bringing it to a halt on the side of the road.