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Gabriella looked left, then right, for traffic, and darted across the street, waving a hand to the bus driver.
The man following her seemed to be as thrown as James was, hesitating on the pavement as he watched her run for the bus.
Before he could follow her, a massive truck drove past, blocking the road, and forcing the man to take a step back.
When the truck had finally lumbered past, the bus had pulled off.
The man’s body language said he had missed his chance, and he knew it.
James couldn’t arrest him for walking the streets, but he could follow him, and see where he went to. He flicked a quick glance at the bus, shuddering and squealing off down the road, with satisfaction. Gabriella was out of harm’s way, and his best lead since this all began stood right in front of him, completely unaware he was even there.
The man pulled out a cigarette as he watched the bus turn a corner, lighting it and smoking for a moment, as if contemplating his next move.
Instead of turning back, he started walking down the pavement in the same direction as Gabriella had been going before she crossed the road. James kept up a leisurely stroll behind him, glad that at this hour, with so many people leaving work, it was easy to hide in the crowd.
Unlike before, when he’d been trailing Gabriella, his mark turned back a few times, but James didn’t know if that was something he did as a precaution, or whether he’d sensed he was being followed.
The drag of the day seemed to evaporate as James kept him in sight, invigorated by the hunt.
And then the mark disappeared.
James knew he had been passing a pub, and he jogged to the entrance and stepped through.
There was his prey, ordering a pint at the bar.
Relaxing, James waited for him to find a seat, and then went to the bar to order a pint himself. While he waited to be served, he looked around the place, a long, casual sweep of his gaze.
There was a free table for two near the fire that had a good view of the booth his mark had slid into, and James headed there and sat with his back to the wall.
The pub was busy and getting busier, as more and more people poured in.
There were clearly groups of work colleagues coming in together, others coming in on their own for a quiet drink at the end of the day.
He wondered what his prey was doing here.
The man drank his pint as if there was no rush.
Eventually he finished his drink and strolled off to the back of the pub to the men’s, and, swallowing down the last of his own drink, James sauntered after him.
When he got into the toilet, there was no one there, and feeling a sudden frisson of panic, James ran out, just in time to hear the door to the back alley close.
Either he’d been spotted, or it was his mark taking precautions again.
He jogged to the back, pushing open the heavy door and stepping into a dark, narrow alley, with overflowing bins to the left.
He looked toward the high street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man, and which way he went.
There was no sign of him.
“Damn.”
A movement just behind him and to the left was all the warning he got before something smashed into his head.
“Looking for me, mate?”
The words seemed to be coming from a long way off, and then they shut off altogether.
chaptertwenty-four