Dirk and Killerman sat in their car on the edge of a small copse in Dartmoor. From their viewing point they could observe Janet Ferker-Rose's slate tiled house in the valley below. The porch light was on but all the other lights in the house were off. Janet Ferker-Rose was in bed.

Dirk had just completed the Times cryptic crossword, he flipped back to the general knowledge crossword which he had finished earlier and ran his pen down the questions just to check his answers. Satisfied, he checked the easy, hard and genius sudkos again. He picked up and shook his milk carton. It was empty. He chucked the carton and newspaper into the back seat to join the rubbish already accumulated there, sighed and looked at his watch. 3.30am. He was missing a party down in Brighton and was stuck here with a man with the mind of a baboon playing with a loaded gun.

Killerman had dismantled his Berretta and laid it out in his lap and was picking up the bits one at a time to see how quickly his could reassemble it. He had tied a woollen scarf around his face as if he could not trust himself to keep his eyes closed.

He'd been doing the same thing for the last four hours.

Dirk picked a small spring off Killerman's lap.

Killerman picked up a few more pieces and clicked them together, then his hand started searching for the spring. For a moment his hand fell on Dirk's knee and then was hastily withdrawn. Dirk raised his eyebrows, 'I know it has probably been a long time for you Killerman. Despite your natural charm and innate wit, I have to let you know now that I don't fancy you.'

Killerman pulled off his mask, 'I wasn't touching you up old man I was just....'

Dirk held up the spring and waved it at Killerman. Killerman snatched it from his hand before inserting it into his gun. 'Doesn't doing that get boring?' Dirk pointed to the half assembled gun on Killerman's lap.

'Got to keep the brain alert Dirk, you should try it. Might sharpen your old brain box up.'

Dirk looked doubtful. They sat and watched the house for a few minutes.

'Do you think she's a goer?' asked Dirk

'Who?'

'Ferker-Rose'

'She's retired man. She's probably twenty five years older than you.'

'So, what say you I slip down there, knock on the door, drop my baggies and show her my upgrade?'

'No.' said Killerman as bluntly as he could manage. The thought of his over sexed partner running down the hill to wake an old lady and leave her emotionally scarred for the rest of her life was somewhat at odds with their remit. 'You're not serious are you?'

'Have you seen it?'

'No, Dirk and I don't want to. Thanks.'

'Aren't you just,' Dirk held his figures up and wiggled them in front of Killerman's face, 'just a teeny, weenie bit interested?'

'No!' Killerman replied stoutly.

They sat there for a little longer.

'Did I ever tell you what happened to Horace our butler and our tortoise?' Killerman was keen to change the subject.

'Who?'

'About Reverend Oak's wife after she was hit by Lightning.'

'Pray do tell, Killerman. Where did we leave off last time? Oh yes, Pawser told me the story about when your Uncle was bitten in the arse by a short sighted shark.'

'Well, I told you about Lightning then?'

Dirk shrugged his shoulders, he could not recollect.

'Lightning. You know, the tortoise.' Killerman pressed.

'I'm not sure I do, Killerman so you'd better back up a bit for me.' Dirk settled back in his seat and prepared himself for another one of Killerman's rambling tales.

'Well like I said, when he cleared off to South Africa, Uncle Mooho ran over Lightning, our tortoise. That's what he was ringing Aunt to tell her about.'

'OK, OK. With you. Carry on.'

'When we realised Lightning had copped it, Horace and I went out in search of him. I found him under the hedge on the edge of the Parterre in front of the Haw Haw.

'I'll forgive you on that score Killerman. Anyone with a Haw Haw is bound to have a Parterre in their front drive, I suppose.' Dirk murmured.

'Lightning didn't look too good. I suppose being run over by a two ton Jag is bound to put a bit of a mocha on your day. Aunt Nonie came out and we stood in a little circle together. Horace, Aunt and I.' Killerman reflected whilst absent mindedly checking in his pocket for his spare revolver clip. 'I was holding one of Lightning's legs and Horace, the other, while Aunt said a little prayer. It was a very poignant moment for us all, except for Aunt who didn't particularly like animals and Horace, who hated Lightning with a vengeance. I remember his leg came off in my hand and I stuffed it in my pocket hoping no one would notice.'

'I get the general picture, Killerman. Dead tortoise, rotting flesh, desiccated limbs.'

'Aunt asked Horace to bury him at the bottom of the garden right next to the Rhody's. Said his salts would help their roots. But it was getting late, so Horace popped him into the fridge until the next day.'

Dirk nodded encouragingly at Killerman.

'Next morning, I was up early in my room oiling my cricket bat.'

'I hope that's not a euphemism, Killerman.'

'Not at all, my sports master always told me I should keep my equipment clean.'

'If he was in the school shower with you rubbing soapy water on to your shoulders at the time, I suspect he was well outside euphemism territory.'

'From my room in the attic sitting there cleaning my stuff,' Killerman glanced at Dirk to ensure he had nothing else to add at this point.' I could see over the Orangery into the grounds beyond.'

'Just asking Killerman, just asking. Offence intended. Carry on. I promise not to say another thing.' Dirk smiled reassuringly.

'Horace appeared, carrying a spade and a string bag with Lightening in it. He shuffled down to the Rhody's, picked up the shovel, banged it into the earth. And nothing. The ground down there was hard as rock, as that's where the old swimming pool was. It had been filled in, you see. After a couple of tries, he stopped digging and started to look around. Then he picked up Lightning, walked to the fence and then with a surprising turn of speed he swung the string bag round his head, did three kick full body rotations like an Olympic Hammer thrower and let it go.'

'Seems a bit wanton, I must say, given that he had a leg missing.'

'Horace?' Killerman was confused.

'No, Lightning.' Dirk corrected.

'Ah I see.' Killerman continued, 'I guess he'd been aiming for the carp pond.'

'The carp pond, I should have known,' despaired Dirk. He looked back down to Ferker-Roses cottage, his mind wandered back to his upgrade.

'Well, he got it wrong because instead of going into the lake, Lightning floated right over the Rhody bushes into the Vicarage next door. A bit flew off and landed in the hedge - I guess another leg had become detached. Horace seemed satisfied, he brushed himself off, picked up the spade and pottered back to the house.'

'Job done then?' It was about half a mile down to the house. Dirk thought he could cover it in about three minutes.

'Not really. About ten minutes later the Reverend Oaks was banging on the door. He was pretty miffed. Said his wife had been having a small soiree in the garden with the local WI when Lightning had whistled over the hedge and hit her on the back of the bonce. Knocked her out, cold.'

'Ah, the dangers of painting your pets name and address on its undercarriage.'

'Quite so, Dirk.' Killerman agreed. 'Horace, of course blamed me. When I protested and said I had been in my room polishing my equipment, Aunt Nonnie clipped me round the ear and sent me straight back upstairs.'

'I'd have done the same, Killerman. Boastful children I can't abide. A Haw Haw, Parterre and a carp pond!' Dirk slipped the keys out of the ignition and prepared to make his exit.

'At first it appeared she'd made a full recovery but we had to go round to the Vicarage a few days later. Aunt Nonnie wanted to organise a service for Uncle, so I had to trail along to apologise to Mrs Oaks. I remember the day perfectly. It was the day I got my first French kiss. I'll never forget that day. Never!'

'Go on.' Dirk held his breath. What the hell, Ferker-Rose could wait.

'I went round and did the deed and Mrs Oaks was a bit grumpy about it. Anyway who should be there but Doris Dewberry. You should have seen Doris, she must have been about sixteen then. She was so beautiful. That year she'd been on the Ferret Associations float in the village Carnival. I remember her, the Queen of the Ferrets. I really fancied her. That day at the Vicarage she was wearing a long cool, cotton summer dress, her arms and legs were so brown, her frizzled hair hung in golden rivulets around her shoulders. I tell you Dirk she was just like a summer's breeze. So warm and fresh.'

Killerman stopped talking for a moment and then sighed deeply. 'Aunt Nonnie suggested we go and play together while she went through the details of the service with the Reverend. So off we went. She held my hand and smiled at me. She had that look, you know.'

'All the girls where I live have that look, Killerman.'

'We played for a bit and then with a mischievous wink she suggested a game of hide and seek, she gave me a quick kiss on my cheek and put her sun hat on my head. I went off and hid, fairly obviously in a cupboard under the stairs. It was pitch black but a few minutes later the door opened , I caught a glimpse of her long skirt, the door closed and next second I was gripped in a passionate embrace and a full on French kiss.'

'Blimey, Killerman!'

'That's what I thought while I was having my molars checked for any recent dental work. Until the door opened and standing there were Nonnie, Mrs Oaks and Doris.'

'What?'

'Yes, it was Reverend Oaks who was kissing me, all dressed up in his cassocks ready for the evenings service. He looked horrified and said he thought he'd seen Doris go into the cupboard and he always had the hots for her.' Killerman shrugged his shoulders. 'Mrs Oaks was apoplectic. She swore like she'd just entered a lorry driving competition and was still doing it when we left the house. Even Nonnie was shocked.'

'She's not the only one, Killerman. I can hardly believe it.'

'Mrs Oaks was never the same after. She'd burst out swearing at the slightest little thing. It was said in the village, that it was being hit by Lightning that had bought it on. Horace said it was not knowing which side of the bed the Reverend laid his dog collar on that had sent her over the edge.'

'So,' said Dirk.' Did he ever send you a postcard wanting to get in touch again?'

To Killerman's relief the phone rang. He picked it up and pressed it to his ear. 'What, what! Speak up, the receptions bad out here.'

He paused, listening carefully. 'Good God, you're both naked! You're where? No clothes, stuck!' No we can't get back till six thirty am at the earliest. We'll set off now.' Killerman put down the phone and turned open mouthed to Dirk.

'Your mother again, Killerman?' asked Dirk

Killerman shot Dirk a withering look, 'Frauline and Pawser. Mission's gone tits up. We've got to get back pronto.'