Blind Pursuit – Rob Sinclair

But my biggest issue is correctly identifying the order. The bigger the number, the harder it gets.’ Probably more explanation than was needed in this case, but Aaron had asked. ‘When I plugged it into the satnav, I read out the name of the shop to the voice prompt. Not the address,’ Callum added. ‘It says 480,’ Aaron said, staring at the picture on the phone screen. ‘Yeah. I thought so too,’ Callum responded and they both looked out to the art shop again and the plaque on the wall by the door with the three digits.

‘400,’ Aaron said. ‘The shop is at 400, not 480.’ ‘On the sticker it’s written over. She turned the zero into an eight.’ ‘So what’s at 480?’ Both of them turned the other way, following the same thought process at the same time. A rare brotherly connection? ‘Must be the other side of the crossroads,’ Callum said. Aaron was already releasing the handbrake as he’d said it. They headed across the lights and he pulled into the car park of the bank. ‘480,’ he said, nodding to the sign.

‘You really think she planned this for you?’ ‘I’ll soon find out. Wait here. Call me if you see anything suspicious.’ Callum went to get out but then paused. Thought. Opened the picture again. ‘Just read out those numbers for me one more time?’ By which he meant the pencilled numbers right underneath the sticker. They looked like maybe they were the order number from the art store or something. Callum hoped it was something else altogether. Fourteen digits. ‘Got it,’ he said after Aaron had finished. He couldn’t read for shit, but his memory was damn good.

He headed out and into the bank. Not a national chain – in fact, he’d never heard of South-West First Bank. The stone building had an old-world appearance to it, with a lofty although cool-feeling interior, marble – or at least marble-effect – floor and gold embellishments here and there. A smartly dressed attendant smiled at Callum as he entered. ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said. ‘Anything I can help you with?’ ‘Just come for my, erm…

safe-deposit box?’ Callum answered, trying his best to sound assured and calm. There was only a narrow choice of options for why Lea would send him here. A secret account with money in it? Possibly, but what would be the point and why the little clues from Lea leading to it? Money wasn’t going to help him. Much more likely that she was taking him to information of some sort. Information would much more likely be in physical form, one way or another.

So safe-deposit box was his guess. ‘Certainly, sir,’ the man said. ‘If you go to my colleague over there, she’ll assist you.’

Given the choice, Lea would have dressed more for the weather. The heat had risen steadily over the morning, hitting over ninety degrees in the shade by midday and a hell of a lot more in the fierce sunshine. Which was exactly where she found herself at the cafe table, waiting.

Her jeans felt heavy, sticking to her clammy legs. Sweat rolled down her spine, the wet patches on her T-shirt at least hidden from the people around her by the jacket she still wore. Although keeping her dignity wasn’t the only reason she’d leave the jacket on. She again wiped her brow with a napkin, then checked her watch. Nearly twelve-thirty. She’d originally arrived in the area before 7 a.m., which was one of the reasons for her heftier than needed clothing, as she’d expected to be finished and at the train station for eight, out of the country on an air-conditioned carriage before now.

Yet here she still was, waiting. She picked her phone up from the table and called Denis. Again. ‘Still no sign?’ she asked. ‘No. But I’m sure he’s near.’ ‘I’ve been sitting here for more than an hour,’ she said, briefly glancing around the other half-dozen tables outside, four of which were taken. No one paid her any attention, but it’d still been too long sitting here, out in the open.

‘Five more minutes and I’m moving somewhere else.’ ‘Please, don’t. Wait there. It’s where he’s headed. We’ve already changed the location three times, we⁠—’ ‘Because he’s several hours late.’ ‘He’ll be there soon. Hold out.’ Easy for him to say; he’d been sitting in the cool of his car, air-con probably blasting the whole time. He ended the call before she could say anything more. She wiped her brow again, called the young waitress over and paid cash for the two sparkling waters she’d had. The woman gave her an apologetic look, perhaps noting her hot and flustered demeanour.

Perhaps the youngster thought she’d been stood up by a date or something. The waitress glanced curiously – suspiciously – to the helmet on the table for a second before wandering off.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: cbf537fbda28586d
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 5,296,650 bytes (5.051 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 331
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 423.93 minutes
• Total Words: 84,786
• Total Characters: 465,995
• Average Words per Page: 256.15
• Average Characters per Page: 1407.84

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