Ten minutes later, with overnight bags hastily packed, and their coats on, they went outside. To Jason’s surprise, the street was deserted. All the emergency vehicles had gone, and the tractor, along with the wrecked purple car and all the police and emergency service workers. Emily’s van was back on the driveway.
It was as if nothing had happened.
‘What the hell?’ Jason said. ‘They’ve cleared this all up PDQ. Who drove your van?’
‘The police asked me to leave the key in it, in case they needed to move it,’ she replied.
‘Well, that was decent of them.’
Across the road, the Penze-Weedells’ house was in darkness. They walked over to Jason’s BMW, and just as they reached it, they heard the swoosh of a car, travelling at speed along Lakeview Drive.
It was a huge Cadillac convertible. At the wheel was a man smoking a cigar, the tip glowing red in the darkness. In the glare of a street light he saw a woman in the passenger seat and the shape of two children in the rear.
Moments later, its tail lights vanished around the corner. But the smell of cigar smoke lingered.
‘I’ve seen that car several times,’ Jason said. ‘The estate agent said it doesn’t ring a bell, but I saw it arriving last week, followed by a removals lorry. I’m sure they’re living on the estate somewhere.’
‘It’s a bit vulgar, don’t you think?’
‘I love those big old Yank tanks!’ Jason said. ‘That’s a Cadillac Eldorado. It would make a great painting, the whole family in it, excited to be arriving at their new home – don’t you think?’
‘Mr and Mrs Flash-Vulgar,’ she said.
‘Too bad about the Penze-Weedells – I’m sure they would have ended up besties with these people.’ He pressed his key fob to unlock the BMW’s doors. To his surprise, nothing happened.
He pressed again.
Nothing.
‘Shit, the battery must have gone.’ He put the key in the lock, instead, and twisted it. There was a brief moment of reluctance, then the door locks released.
They climbed in. Jason was a little puzzled that the interior lights had not come on. He pushed the start button.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. A weak click from under the bonnet, then nothing. And again.
‘Shit, a flat battery. What’s caused that?’
‘Shall we try mine?’ Emily hurried out of the BMW and over to her van. She tried opening the door, but it was locked. ‘Don’t say they’ve taken the key? Bloody idiots.’
‘Your spare’s in the hall drawer.’
She opened her handbag and removed the house keys – and frowned.
‘The key’s here, on my key ring.’
‘I thought you left it in the van.’
‘So did I. I must have . . .’ She frowned again. ‘I’m certain I left it in the ignition.’
‘Maybe you took it out by mistake.’
‘And they pushed the van here? Wouldn’t the steering lock have been on?’
‘Yup, well, the police have tools for getting into cars, I imagine.’
She pressed the key fob to unlock the doors. Just like with the BMW, nothing happened. She unlocked it manually, got in and tried to start the engine.
The battery in this vehicle was dead, too.
‘What’s going on?’ she said.
Jason, standing in the street, was looking around warily.
‘Both cars can’t have flat batteries, Jason.’ Her voice was on a knife edge. ‘How can that happen?’
‘Maybe there was some kind of electrical surge that’s knocked them both out?’ he reasoned.
‘And this surge somehow plugged back in our command box? And fried your brain in the process?’
He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll find a taxi company.’
But as he brought the screen alive and tapped on the Google app, he frowned. The screen went black.
‘Em, can you try yours, I’m out of power.’
She took her phone out of her bag and tapped the screen. Then tapped it again. ‘Dead,’ she said. ‘It’s dead. How’s that possible? Bloody battery life on this thing – I charged it this afternoon.’
‘Let’s try the landline.’
They went back inside and through to the kitchen, where the cordless phone sat in its base station.
It was dead, too.