The drizzle had stopped, but a misty dampness hung in the air. As I headed through the carpark of The Pink Elephant to my parking spot, I noticed in my peripheral vision a dark-coloured sedan. A man wearing a cap was in the driver's seat. As I glanced around he turned his head, said something to the man in the seat beside him, also wearing a cap, and started the engine. It looked perfectly innocent; two blokes about to drive home from the pub, but an alarm whooped in my head. I had a strong hunch that the driver had started the engine to give that exact impression, to deflect suspicion they were waiting for me.
I slowed right down, dawdling, so they‘d have to leave before me. I glanced at the number plate as they drove out and memorised it. They turned left out of the car park, in the opp
