6

I paused at the door, looking intently out into the street. Then, after a few moments, satisfied that the time was right, I stepped out into the street. Reaching Finchley High Road, I waved for a taxi, and my trackers followed suit.

Almost immediately, a taxi pulled over to pick me up. As I stepped in, I shouted above the din of the street, "The London to Edinburgh overnighter leaves in forty minutes, driver. I will double your fare if you get us to King's Cross in time!"

Then, I saw two climbing into another newly-arrived taxi.

The taxi across the street made a quick, illegal, 180-degree turn and followed close behind us.

"Faster if you can, driver," I said, and as my pursuers drew nearer.

"Slow down a bit now," I said next, and the driver gave me a quizzical look in his rear-view mirror.

"We want to lose them, but not quite yet, driver," he said. "We should play them along for a bit, don't you think?"

As we sped towards Kings Cross, I kept watching behind and ahead and advising the driver how fast he should go. The traffic was heavy in spots, and we couldn't always go as quickly as I would have preferred, but just before we reached Regent's Park, space opened up before us, and we sped clear.

Suddenly the traffic behind us became congested again, and I told the driver to take the next two available turns. Therefore, we found ourselves heading south and then west, and then I spoke to the driver, and we turned three times in rapid succession, and we were on Finchley High Road again but now going west, back towards Woodside Park.

Sandra Burton was waiting for me outside my home, looking exasperated at what I had asked her to do.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes, I suppose so," she responded with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "What about you?"

"I hope the men who were following enjoy their trip. They'll be halfway to Peterborough before they realise we're not on their train and unable to do anything until they get to Edinburgh. By the time they make get back to London, we'll be in Wales at the very least, maybe even as far as Haliheved."

"Who were those men?" She said. "Suppose they'd caught you!"

"I was certain they wouldn't, Sandra," he said, "and I am equally certain when they arrive at King's Cross, they be in plenty of time to board the train to Edinburgh!"

"How can you be so certain?" She asked.

"For the same reason, I knew they would find a taxi at the same time we did," I said.

"And how is that?"

"I took the precaution of arranging both taxis myself," he said.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Didn't you recognise the driver of the taxi that followed us?"

She gasped. "No, who?"

"Detective Inspector Mark Brooks," I smiled, "Ever since the Project Moscow affair," DI Brooks has been talking about how much he owes me. Well, now he owes me one less!"

Our pursuers would indeed board their train, with Brooks assisting them to the very edge of the platform, no doubt. I paid the fare, the equivalent of a one-way trip to King's Cross Station, plus a hefty tip, and we were back inside my flat once again.

"The disguise did just the job, Sandra," I said, "I think I'll hang onto it until I see Hector again."

I removed the components of Hector's disguise and handed them to Sandra. "Can you be ready to leave in an hour?" I asked her. "The last train for Chester departs in just ninety minutes. Wales is always so beautiful at this time of year, and I'm looking forward to a bit of scenery."

I could see in her eyes that Sandra's mind was swimming with questions, and I could see the confusion in her face. "Pack for two nights, Sandra," I said. "We may return sooner, but it's best to cover ourselves. As for your other questions, we'll have plenty of time to talk on the train."

Our second taxi ride of the day was less eventful than the first one. We proceeded straight to King's Cross Station and boarded a train for Chester without incident.

I had been reticent along the way and eventually said, "It will be good to get away from the smoke for a while and into some open country."

"I agree," Sandra said, "but I'm puzzled. Are we going sightseeing? Or are we still working on the Tina Davis assignment? And if so, shouldn't we stay in London?"

"The scenery will be delightful, Sandra," I replied, "but enjoying it is far from our major intention."

"Then we are still on the trail?" Sandra asked.

"Very much so," I replied.

"I was fairly confused even before the sudden and dramatic appearance of Hector Nelson," she said, "but the mystery seems even more complicated now."

"The fact that somebody followed him to my home may have complicated things for all of us, but I am grateful for the information he provided," I said

"On the other hand, doesn't this new data make the case more baffling?" She pressed.

"That depends on your idea of a mystery," I said. "For a writer of murder mysteries, each new bizarre detail makes the plot more difficult to construct and adds to the sense of mystery. But for us working in the real world," I continued, " the ordinary and drab crime with no pattern that poses the greatest difficulties. The sensational, bizarre, and outrageous crimes that make the most popular stories are the easiest to solve. This case has been very odd from the start, Sandra," I added, "and new information never hurts. From the analytical perspective, Hector's visit simplifies our task."

"Does it not make things more difficult for you as well?" Sandra asked.

"In one respect, it certainly does," I replied. "In all my years at Thames House, I have never had an assignment like this. And yet here I am, working with you, Brian Flynn, and Hector Nelson. I am in no position to mention anything about Flynn to Hector or about Hector to Flynn. How could I refuse either of them?"

"It has the makings of a conflict of interest," Sandra said.

"On paper, I suppose it does, Sandra," I agreed.” but as long as we concentrate on discovering the truth, we should be all right as that will help both Flynn and Hector."

"I see," she said. "But seriously, why are we going to Wales. Are we chasing the killer?"

"No," he said, "we are chasing the motive!"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't imagine you do," I replied. "We are untangling a long and twisted thread. Under miles of official London, one end buried in places where even the metropolitan police cannot venture. The other end lies out in the open, just a few miles east of Haliheved, and I intend to examine as much as I can over the next couple of days."

"You're looking into Tina Davis' background?"

"Correct," I acknowledged.

"And then what?" She asked. "Go after the killer?"

"Nobody can know that at this point," I replied. "You'll have to come up with an easier question."