Johnny Lister ran out of road and got killed. In Latchford, where road is all there is. Five miles of road--a hot, straight strip with a dead tree at the westerly end of it. The wreckage of Lister's cycle was found a hundred yards from his body...

Into the world of jazz and death-happy delinquents came Superintendent Gently of the Yard. But the youthful companions of the dead boy seemed quite unmoved by his questions. Because in Latchford it's only natural to cut loos a little, burn the road up. That's how you stay in touch. Still, Gently wondered about the second set of tire marks. They seemed to suggest that another cyclist had edged Lister off the road...