"What the hell's going on back there?" The driver called back to the cops sitting on either side of me.
"Beats me! He's talking to the back of your seat, seems to think itís covered in blood or something."
"Probably sees the stuff everywhere. The cops in his home town said by the time he had finished slicing up his old lady she looked like an old can of leftover cat meat. Even dolled himself up in his best suit to do it. I tell you pal, the sooner this kook's safely behind bars the better I'll feel." The driver shook his head. "If those guys he owes money to hadn't set him up for us, I hate to think what sort of blood bath we would have had round here."
"How do you know it was them?"
"The Chief recognized the stool pigeonís voice. Seems they often turn in guys they know can't pay providing they're facing a long stretch. Saves them the expense of the bone breakers."
"Hear that Joe? The Chicken set you up, they wanted you to fry." Fedora hat sniggered.
"At least it'll keep you out of my face."
"No way Joe, you and me are stuck with each other for the duration. Blood brothers you might say."
"Let's get one thing straight pal, I'm no fucking brother of yours, blood or any other kind."
"For Christ's Harry, sake stick a gag in the kook's mouth," the driver called over his shoulder," We can do without this crap. Itís still got a good half hour to the station." One of the troopers rammed a handkerchief in my mouth.
"Sure we are," Fedora hat snickered, " you knocked off the old guy and his wife in the Motel, and I sliced up your old lady back home. We're not only blood brothers, you and I are soulmates you might say, we belong together."
He reached out from the seat and put his arms round my neck. Somehow the blood hadn't dried and was still treacle thick and sticky all over him. He pressed a wet gory mouth to my ear.
"Just you and me Joe, Soul Mates," he whispered, and started to climb inside me. I screamed for help just like she had screamed, but the gag was in the way, and like it had been for her, nobody heard.