CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After twelve hours of monotony, Calver left the embassy, his brain was fried, but he wasn’t heading straight home. He did not have time to crash out, watch TV and drink beer. He had things to do, people to see.
Calver was on a tight schedule. He’d brought everything he needed with him. A change of clothes and his bag was in his car. He had to be on the next ferry to Gozo, and he had little time to get there. The journey, on paper, would take around half an hour. But Calver was a practical guy. He knew that s**t happened when you did not need it to. He would have to head Northwest on the Triq l-ldward towards Vjal L-lstadium Nazzjonali. The road would take him towards Mdina, and then at the roundabout, he’d have to head North until he hit the route 16 and then up towar
