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says 。。。 and they are shapeless and devils and they're going to kill Silverboy。 She says she is trying to run fast to warn him； and she can't get through the monsters； they clutch at her like cobwebs。 She can't get through them and they reach Silverboy and smother his light； and all his hair falls out； and she wakes up and screams。 It's always the same nightmare。 I thought if you could find out who cut the poor thing's foot off； the monsters would have names and faces and would be in the papers； and Rachel would know who they were and stop thinking they're lumps that ooze without eyes and won't let her through。'
After a pause； I said； 'Give me another week。'
She turned away from me sharply and； crossing to a desk； wrote me a cheque。 'For two weeks； one gone； one ahead。'
I looked at the amount。 'That's more than we agreed on。'
'Whatever Joe says； I want you to go on trying。'
I gave her tentatively a small kiss on the cheek。 She smiled； her eyes still dark and wet。 'I'll pay anything for Rachel；' she said。
I drove slowly back to London thinking of the cynical old ex…policemen who had taught me the basics of investigation。 'There are two cardinal rules in this trade；' he said。 'One。 Never believe everything a client tells you； and always believe they could have told you more if you'd asked the right questions。 And two。 Never never get emotionally involved with your client。'
Which was all very well； except when your client was a bright truthful nine…year…old fighting a losing battle against a rising tide of lymphoblasts。
I bought a take…out curry on the way home and ate it before spending the evening on overdue paperwork。
I much preferred the active side of the job； but clients wanted； and deserved； and paid for； detailed accounts of what I'd done on their behalf； preferably with results they liked。 With the typed recital of work done； I sent also my final bill； adding a list of itemised expenses supported by receipts。 I almost always played fair； even with clients I didn't like： investigators had been known to charge for seven days' work when； with a little application； they could have finished the job in three。 I didn't want that sort of reputation。 Speed succeeded in my new occupation as essentially as in my old。
Besides bathroom and kitchen； my pleasant （and frankly； expensive） flat consisted of three rooms； bedroom； big sunny sitting…room and a third； smaller； room that I used as an office。 I had no secretary or helper； no one read the secrets I uncovered except the client and myself； and whatever the client did with the information he'd paid for was normally his or her own business。 Privacy was what drove many people to consult me； and privacy was what they got。
I listened to some unexciting messages on my answering machine； typed a report on my secure word…processor； printed it and put it ready for posting。 For reports and anything personal I used a puter system that wasn't connected to any phone line。 No one could in consequence tap into it and； as a precaution against thieves； I used also unbreakable passwords。 It was my second system that could theoretically be accessed； the one connected by modem to the big wide world of universal information。 Any snooper was wele to anything found there。
On the subject of the management of secrecy； my cynical mentor had said； 'Never ever tell your right hand what your left hand is doing。 Er 。。。' he added； 'whoops。 Sorry； Sid。'
'It'll cost you a pint。'
'And；' he went on later； drinking； 'keep back…up copies of pleted sensitive enquiries in a bank vault； and wipe the information from any puter systems in your office。 If you use random passwords； and change them weekly； you should be safe enough while you're actually working on something； but once you've finished； get the back…up to the bank and wipe the office puter； like I said。'
'All right。'
'Never forget；' he told me； 'that the people you are investigating may go to violent lengths to stop you。'
He had been right about that。
'Never forget that you don't have the same protection as the police do。 You have to make your own protection。 You have to be careful。'
'Maybe I should look for another job。'
'No； Sid；' he said earnestly； 'you have a gift for this。 You listen to what I tell you and you'll do fine。'
He had taught me for the two years I'd spent doing little but drift in the old Radnor detection agency after the end of my racing life and； for nearly three years since； I'd lived mostly by his precepts。 But he was dead now； and Radnor himself also； and I had to look inwards for wisdom； which could be a variable process； not always ultra…productive。
I could try to fort Rachel by telling her I had bad dreams also； but I could never have told her how vivid and liquefying they could be。 That night； after I'd eased off the arm and showered and gone peacefully to bed； I fell asleep thinking of her； and descended after midnight into a familiar dungeon。
It was always the same。
I dreamed I was in a big dark space； and some people were ing to cut off both my hands。
Both。
They were making me wait； but they would e。 There would be agony and humiliation and helplessness 。。。 and no way out。
I semi…awoke in shaking； sweating heart…thudding terror and then realised with flooding relief that it wasn't true； I was safe in my own bed： and then remembered that it had already half happened in fact； and also that I'd e within a fraction once of a villain's shooting the remaining hand off。 As soon as I was awake enough to be clear about the present actual not…too…bad state of affairs I slid back reassured into sleep； and that night the whole appalling nightmare cycled again 。。。 and again。
I forced myself to wake up properly； to sit up and get out of bed and make full consciousness take over。 I stood under the shower again and let cool water run through my hair and down my body。 I put on a towelling bathrobe and poured a glass of milk； and sat in an armchair in the sitting…room with all the lights on。
I looked at the space where a left hand had once been； and I looked at the strong whole right hand that held a glass； and I acknowledged that often； both waking as well as sleeping； I felt； and could not repress； stabs of savage petrifying fear that one day it would indeed be both。 The trick was not to let the fear show； nor to let it conquer； nor rule my life。
It was pointless to reflect that I'd brought the terrors on myself。 I had chosen to be a jockey。 I had chosen to go after violent crooks。 I was at that moment actively seeking out someone who knew how to cut off a horse's foot with one chop。
My own equivalent of the off…fore held a glass of milk。
I had to be mentally deranged。
But then there were people like Rachel Ferns。
In one way or another I had survived many torments； and much could have been avoided but for my own obstinate nature。 I knew by then that whatever came along； I would deal with it。 But that child had had her hair fall out and had found her beloved pony's foot； and none of that was her fault。 No nine…year…old mind could sleep sweetly under such assaults。
Oh God； Rachel； I thought； I would dream your nig