Page 120 of Eternal Surrender

Ingrid’s hands shot to her hips.

He strolled toward the lift and pressed the button. “Do give Chief Inspector Vanderbilt my regards when you see him, won’t you?”

The lift doors slid open.

Ingrid and I ascended in silence.

As we passed the guard stationed at the front desk he peered up from his newspaper and showed surprise, having no recollection of me entering.

Once outside I sucked in air not caring that it was smog filling my lungs.

“Well that seemed to go well.” Ingrid patted my back. “See, I told you we had nothing to worry about.”

I glanced back and scanned the windows, hating the feeling we were being watched.

“He’s protecting his members.” Ingrid’s expression changed. “Not the first time I’ve had to deal with chauvinism.”

I removed the keychain from my pocket and flicked the car key and a little way down the curb a blue Porsche convertible flashed its lights.

Ingrid came after me. “What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d check out Alistair’s car.” I opened the driver’s side door and climbed in.

Ingrid glanced back to confirm we weren’t being watched and joined me, sitting in the passenger seat. “Where did you find his keys?”

“In his briefcase.”

“I didn’t see them.”

I reached over to her side and opened the glove box, rifling through it, I quickly found a folded map.

I handed it to her. “Something tells me this isn’t Alistair’s day job.”

She peered at it, taking note of how it had been folded. “East Sussex.” She shoved it back into the glove box.

The key slid smoothly into the ignition. “Did you know the same company that makes these cars also designed tanks during the Second World War?”

“Interesting. Now. . . turn it off.”

“Oh, one more thing,” I said. “If I ever mention you mustn’t go in somewhere, you’ll listen.”

“What are you doing?”

I steered the car away from the pavement. “Making a point.”

“You’ll get me arrested!”

“That would happen only if they found us in the car.” I shifted into second gear and then quickly into third.

“What are you talking about? Slow down!”

“Trust me my driving skills exceed yours on all levels.” I buzzed open the roof. “Apparently, it’s bad to let down the top when driving over 70.” I glanced up. “Seems to be handling it well.”

“Okay, I get it, I’ll never put you in that position again.”

“What was that?” I shifted the Porsche into fourth.

“I’m sorry.” She eased her seat belt round and clicked it into its socket.