While Jez, who had not come in until the small hours, snuffled and slept his bloodsoaked dreams, his younger brother tiptoed out of the house and freewheeled down to Old Joe's. The wet streets steamed, dark beneath clouds fencing off the dawn.

"Nuh! Nuh!" whimpered Jez, eyes rolling behind closed lids.

Old Joe lifted both hand and voice, thumped on the counter with frustration.

"What's it?" shrilled his wife from the back room, loud over the television blare. "This time?"

"Damned downtown kid!" roared Old Joe, fat voice cracking. "Damned wet footprints over the floor, by damn!" Thumped the counter again.

"Tell him............"

Behind Old Joe, another story broke. Police were called out to yet another victim of....... "Gone now, dammit!" he howled.

Which he had, slinging the bag over one shoulder and himself on the bike, and taking off like a bat through the morning dark. Where were the cars?

"Are you sh-sh-sh-sure?" dreamed Jez, showing his teeth. "Sh-sh-sh-certain?"

Downtown Alley, he hurled the first paper over the back at number twelve, where both gate and occupier were unhinged. Disturbed the nutty dog at number fifteen by doing the same. Then three in a row where he could approach the doors, before Arbuthnot at the end house.

"Yah!" he screamed. Arbuthnot appeared at the top of the steps, huge and shadowy. Light from a tv screen flickered and flashed, silhouetting him. "Yawww!" he bellowed back, fist raised. Groaned as he bent to retrieve the paper.

.......... the third within a week. There has been much speculation over whether...........

"Another one?" grumped Old Joe as his wife shook her head in pity and horror.

"Another one!" exclaimed Mabe Arbuthnot, representing only one fifth of the partnership by weight. "Down at the sub, George. There's been another one."

Slide round the corner, one foot ready in case the tyres slipped, stand on the pedals to climb Brack Hill. Streetlights go out all at once, like someone pulled the plug. Clouds paling with the effort of keeping out the sun. No cars on Brack Hill, and none visible crossing at the top on Main, either. What was happening?

............... but now Channel exbee-ess can reveal exclusively that there is another, more sinister explanation............

Blue and whites all round the subway, that was what, and great yellow cords roping off the street. Too early for a crowd. Cameras, though, and he wondered if Jez would see him on the news if he rode around the back just so. Fire? he wondered. Fight? Another jumper?

Up Back Street, anyway, and the morning gloom closing in again as he left the artificial lights.

"Down, down, down," whispered Jez. "Down downtown." He giggled and thrashed, sticky sheet enshrouding him.

.......young Miss - well, I am afraid we cannot name her for legal reasons - actually witnessed this latest incident and she was able to speak with.............

Arbuthnot slammed the door. "Ain't nowhere safe," he rumbled.

"What about the damned po-lice?" wailed Old Joe. "Talking to reporters! Where was they when.........?"

"Expect they got her after," said Mrs Joe comfortably, and then acknowledged, "Later rather than sooner, right enough."

Back Street didn't take long, nor the Avenue either. "Should've known better," he told two cars resting on their hub-caps. Nobody with any sense parked this far downtown, unless they had a reputation. "Rep. U. Tation," he whistled. Did Jez have that? Maybe tonight he would, too.

Three more along Duke Road, then right into Dead End. Practically every house along there, but that was no problem as they all crammed real close, leaning on each other for support. Wham! Wham! Wham! And then away back out the way he came in, across up to the Crescent and Mrs Galloway. Young Miss said:

I was cleaning, like I dunno, like I allus do. Late. And I was, y'know where I was? In the kiosk, down cleaning it like allus, 'cept I happened to be swatching the floor and not the winders.

But how could he know that, out in the damp streets, watching Mrs Galloway's paper land with a tiny thwap! on her porch? How could he have heard, when he was watching her come to the door, with the light from behind shining through her nightdress, outlining her shape? And would he have listened, as she tugged her clothes loose and deliberately bent low to pick up the innocent paper? "Just the paper boy," he heard her say.

Jez heard a great roaring in his head. "Don't," he said, or he said; who could tell? Then a warm buffetting and a great flash.

"Shut it," said Mr Galloway precisely. She wasn't sure whether he meant her or the door, so she did both. He had stopped spooning cereal, and glued his eyes to the screen. He didn't see her fasten up her clothes, or the colour in her face. "Looky here, that's Jack Abby's daughter, ain't it? Get in here!"

Arbuthnot grunted.

"Damned young thugs!" said Old Joe indignantly. "Gimme that mop."

His heart raced and he flew up the Crescent and out again into Main Street. Almost done now. Payday, too, and then Jez taking him out with all the others tonight. Mrs Galloway did it again! Just these on the margins of Main Street and then the long haul back up to the shop.

Only one guy was there, y'know? Down the end?

The voice of Young Miss filtered into homes across the city.

But then this other guy came and sorta, sorta went up to him, y'know? They said a few things, but I wasn't...... well, I was cleaning the kiosk, wasn't I? But then I hears one of them say No! No! so I look up. Wouldn't you of?

Eyes spring open, and see the ceiling painted white then blue, white then blue, over and over. Still wrapped in the bedsheet shroud. Still sleep-shocked and it takes a long time for meanings to sink in.

And the second guy reaches out - he's got some sorta Jesus jacket on - and says something like, well I dunno. Like, are you sure? or something, only the train's coming so that's rumbling and the 'nouncement comes on like it's the Downtown train so there's a lotta noise.

Old Joe's, but better not go in, after that row for getting the floor wet. Seems like he's in the back room anyhow, listening to the television. Then footsteps and a slice of luck. "Hi, Bodge! Take this'n for me, will ya? Nah, can't tonight. Going out yeah........."

Pushed? Well, I dunno. Grabbed? Well, I dunno. It was all so quick.

".........downtown with my brother tonight."