Chapter Twenty-Three
Pieces of the puzzle.
After placing a fast phone call to Jamal, I cranked the car to life and pulled from the Brook Hill parking lot, back into the increasingly heavy London traffic. My destination was on the other side of town, but with the midday rush hour and poor weather, the flow of vehicles was painfully slow. After ten minutes, I hit a gridlock line of taillights, as the row of cars snaked away down the Blackwall tunnel.
I slammed my palm into the horn, but the resulting blare of noise did nothing to speed the traffic. Instead, it worsened my headache.
We sat stationary, cars unmoving for what seemed like an eternity. I glanced ahead at the looming tunnel once more. It was the quickest route, but underground there would be no signal.
Damn. I have no time fo
