CHAPTER 16
The red Bentley Mulsanne turbo glided to a halt in the car park overlooking Devil’s Dyke. The only other car there was a Jaguar. Inside sat Alan Mattherson. He watched the Bentley come to a halt and opened his driver’s door. There was no movement from the other car, and as the windows were tinted, he couldn’t see inside. His brown ankle length Chelsea boots crunched on the gravel as he walked towards the limo. When he got to within three yards the driver’s door opened and a squat, bull-necked man got out. He was oriental, his head shaved. He looked like a sumo wrestler except he wore a smart chauffeur’s livery, not a set of Pampers.
He walked around the side of the car and opened the near-side rear door. He motioned Alan Mattherson to climb inside. He was hit by a draught of c
