But the mystery man was down from the crane, into the Mercedes and speeding off before any attempt at taking pursuit could be taken by Marty and the team. Their efforts to make out the registration number were thwarted by the hoar frost on the night air. The mystery man’s car roared off, leaving a cloud of exhaust fumes hanging on the freezing haze, before Dixie could capture a helpful shot.
‘I don’t see how it could be Pelops, Dixie. He’s with Quesada, in Africa. Must be thousands of miles from here.’ Marty said.
‘Look – look at the size of that crane window, Marty. Whoever it was, his bulk nearly filled the frame. If it wasn’t him, it was someone just as big. I know what I saw! Somebody else is very interested in us, someone who had a rifle. I know what I saw.’
Marty looked at the Hum
