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IT ONLY TOOK A FEW minutes of riding the Bonnie for Regan to feel back in the zone. All thoughts of Bill and Caroline were banished in this space. He gunned the Triumph for what it was worth through Vauxhall, on to Vauxhall Bridge and slewing left into Grosvenor Road reaching speeds of seventy miles per hour. He heard the sound of two-tone horns so checked his mirror and glanced behind him. “Oh shit! Just what we need, a fucking cop car. Hold on tight, John.”
John wondered what the hell Regan was up to because instead of increasing speed, he slowed down to around thirty. He soon found out. Regan had slowed down so he could glance left and right. He was looking for something. The Triumph dipped down at the front as Regan applied the front brake, forcing John to slide into Regan’s back. Then the machine lurched to the right at almost a ninety-degree angle. John saw what Regan was aiming for.
A few seconds later, Regan had reached the end of the pedestrian passageway. It was too narrow for any car, never mind a police car. He looked in the mirror and saw the police car parked on Grosvenor Road at the entrance to the passageway. Regan could not resist smirking.
Several more minutes of riding back in the zone saw Regan arrive in Ranelagh Gardens. The area was occupied by up-market flats. Each building was three storeys high. Where is it? They thought.
“This is the right place, John. Look out for the red telephone box outside a block of flats.”
They saw it at the same time. “There it is!” Both men spoke as one.
Regan almost dropped the Bonnie in his rush to speak to a security guard in charge of the small residents’ car park.
“Excuse me, mate. Have you seen my friend? Caroline, the barrister. I have some urgent paperwork for her.”
The guard was a huge, black guy who appeared pleased to have someone to talk to. His face lit up on hearing Regan’s inquiry as if no one ever noticed he was there and now he felt important.
He spoke slowly in a West Indian patios, “Yeah, man, lady left already. You mean the blonde barrister lady?” His accent made barrister sound like barista.
Regan nodded, opened his mouth to say something but the guard continued, “Strange thing is man, the boyfriend left after the lady.”
Regan asked, “Why strange?”
“Well man, when the man stay he always leave with her, always together innit?”
“What does the man look like?”
“Hey man! You ain’t no jealous boyfriend or anything, is you?”
Regan burst out laughing, “No way man! She just friend of mine.” Regan in his chameleon way started to imitate the patios.
Regan saw the guard’s shoulders relax before he spoke again, “The man he ugly. Squashed face, man. Can’t see what she see in him. She’s a looker, know what I mean.”
“Thanks, I think...”
The guard hadn’t finished cooperating, “Wait she did say what she doing today. Made a change. She smile for once and had a spring in her step. ‘Not far,’ she said ‘Off to Inner London Sessions. I’m doing a stint as a Recorder.’”
He smiled again before adding, “I made her laugh. I said I didn’t know she was in an orchestra. She gone and told me a Recorder was a part time judge. She said she has a trial starting there today.”
“How long after she left did the guy leave?”
“Strange that. Only a few minutes. I did wonder why they didn’t leave together. It seemed like he was trying to follow her or something.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Man, he hid behind that tree down there and watched the lady grab a taxi cab. Then he did the same thing. It was weird, man, like in the films, you know, follow that car,” said the guard with a laugh that would have been infectious in different circumstances.
“How long ago was all this?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
