Too late.

'I need it by eleven in the morning, but it's got to be white,' Cliff said to Fernie. They were standing outside the main workshop doors, a weak sun playing hide-and-seek behind some threatening clouds.

Fernie wiped his hands on an oily rag, looking round the yard. 'That's all I've got,' he said finally, pointing a black-rimmed fingernail. Cliff goggled. It was a hearse. Chromium-plated cherubs supporting the coffin guide-bars in the long rear window.

'I can put seats in the back,' Fernie offered helpfully.

The portable phone beeped on the Granada's dashboard. Cliff reached inside to answer it. 'Who? What? Gatwick?' He frowned into the phone. 'But I'm out of gas! Hang on…' He patted his pockets, pulled out an Oddbins receipt, and turned to Fernie. 'Can you lend us twenty quid till tomorrow?'

Fernie just stared at him.

The last of the stragglers were heading off home when Susie arrived at the schoolyard. She went through the gates, struggling with two Tesco carrier-bags laden with shopping, a skirt she'd just collected from the dry cleaner's in a plastic wrapper under her arm. Stupid woman had got the tags mixed up, which was why she was late. The last of the kids had gone by now, the yard empty except for two boys aimlessly kicking a football about.

She went over to them. 'Do you know Phil and Kenny Dillon?' One of the boys shrugged, while the other simply ignored her, balancing the ball on his instep.

The caretaker came out with a bunch of keys. Same question, and pretty much the same response. Susie trailed back to the gates, a breathless, fluttery sense of panic in her chest. But they couldn't have gone far, they'd been told time and again not to wander off. They were good kids really. She looked worriedly up and down the street… just wait till she got her hands on the pair of them!

One of the boys called out, 'They were picked up, 'bout fifteen minutes ago.'

Frank? But he was working. Then who? Susie started running.

The pressure was on. Dillon felt he was in the middle of a Marx Brothers movie, not sure whether he was Groucho, Chico, Harpo, or Karl. First Cliff rang in: transport for tomorrow's wedding job sorted, which was one headache less, at least. The instant Dillon put the phone down it rang again. Marway. Appointment with the bank manager fixed up. Could they make it for ten in the morning, on the dot? 'Yeah!' Dillon was excited. 'Yeah, we'll be there…'

With the elephant under his arm, Jimmy was halfway to the door.

'Wait…!'

Harry, who was on his way out, came back in.

'Not you, Harry, go on, get out – put that back!' Dillon said to Jimmy, pointing at the desk. He spoke into the phone. 'Sorry, Mr Marway… yes, okay, and thank – thank you very much.'

He banged the phone down and darted for the door, yelling, 'Harry! Harry – wait!' and caught up with him in the passage. 'We got an appointment at the bank with the manager.' Dillon counted the tips of his fingers. 'Now, we'll need all your deeds, an' all our commendations from the Army, an' -'

The phone rang. Jimmy shouted from the office, 'Frank, it's Susie!'

'Ask her what she wants,' Dillon called, not quite through. He was still on his third finger, trying to remember what it was. Somebody knocked on the door, making him forget completely. 'See who it is, Harry,' Dillon said, turning back.

'Bloody hell, what you think I am, a yo-yo?' Harry grumbled, opening the door. 'Tell me one thing, then -' Two engineers in trim grey overalls, British Telecom logo on their breast pockets. 'Frank!' Harry yelled over his shoulder. 'Hey, Frank, better come out here…'

Halfway through the door, Dillon swayed back from the hips, got a peek, and dived into the office. Jimmy was saying into the phone, 'He's just comin'… what? No, we bin here all afternoon.' He held out the receiver to Dillon with one hand and picked up the elephant with the other.

'Put that back!' Dillon ordered, grabbing the phone off him. He jerked his thumb. 'There's two blokes out there from the GPO, take care of them!' Jimmy opened his mouth as if to protest or perhaps explain, but Dillon wouldn't give him the chance. 'I warned you about connecting the phones – just sort it out.'

Reluctantly, dawdling, Jimmy turned away.

'Sue?' Dillon said. And then through his teeth: 'Give that here, Jimmy!'

Sighing, Jimmy put the elephant down on the desk. The engineers were just outside the door, looking up at the electric box. One of them unclipped a pencil torch. 'Is there a problem, mate?' inquired Jimmy heartily. He glanced behind at Dillon and pulled the door shut. 'Only we just moved into the premises…'

Dillon sat on the edge of the desk, frowning at the elephant, what was left of it, with its decorative head-covering of tiny beads and glass baubles, vaguely trying to concentrate on what Susie's agitated voice was saying.

'Sorry, love, what…?' Not drugs, the thing wasn't hollow. Not ivory. He couldn't think what else. He said, 'Aren't they with your Mum? Well – I'd have told you if they were with me.' He listened, nodding, pushing a hand through his hair. 'Okay, call me back.'

Dillon put the phone down, still gazing at the elephant, now wondering about Kenny and Phil. He wasn't unduly worried, not at this moment, but it was yet another niggle he could do without, On top of this weird Nelly the Elephant business, the bank appointment in the morning, and now the damn GPO snooping around. He'd warned Jimmy, but Jimmy wouldn't be told. He knew all the angles. Which corners to cut. How to bend rules and regulations, con the VAT-man, dodge standing charges. Always shading the odds in his favour, living by his wits and a winning smile. Dillon looked at his hands, flexing his fingers. That's what Jimmy was to him, Dillon thought, like one of his own vital, indispensable hands that had turned rogue. Jimmy Hammond. His Bad Left Hand.

Jimmy pushed the door open with his own left hand, edging in backwards. 'They were already connected, we just got the one line,' Dillon heard him telling the engineers. 'I mean, why do we have to pay a connection fee if we're already connected?' Puzzled, querulous, an innocent child falsely accused.

He sidled round the door, and with a guarded look at Dillon, shoved one of the telephones into a drawer. Dillon slammed it shut. He hissed at Jimmy, 'We got to get all our references, we're in the bank ten sharp for the loan.'

Jimmy's face registered disappointment, even hurt. 'I was gonna set that up…'

'Well I've done it. So you sort them -' jabbing towards the passage. 'If we have to pay, then pay up.'

Having given an order, Sergeant Dillon marched out, double-quick time, the elephant under his arm.

He walked through his front door to hear Helen's voice from the living-room going on about calling the police or something. Then Susie rushed into the hallway, her face white as a sheet. 'Frank! Are the kids with you?'

'No, why?' Dillon said, the telephone receiver in his hand. 'The ruddy phones in the office are off, I've got to contact Cliff -'

It all came out in a rush.

'They've been missing all afternoon Frank I've called everyone I don't know what to do Frank I can't…'

'Al right, love.' Dillon went very still. Carefully he put the phone down. His voice was calm, his movements unhurried, even gentle, as he led her into the living-room. '… All right, I'm here now. How long they been gone?'

There was a knock at the door. Susie tried to pull away from him but Helen got there first. Jimmy came in -'Hi, Frank, you still got it?' – his gaze fixed on the elephant, which Dillon had placed on the sideboard.

Susie burst out, 'Nobody's seen them since four, a lad said they'd been picked up,' while Helen broke in, 'I been round the estate and back to the school three times-'