THIRTY-SEVEN
By the time I reached Larch Close, my lungs were on the verge of bursting. I imagined them, barrage balloon-like inflating beyond their accepted capacity inside my aching chest surging up towards my mouth. Surely they would burst at any time? But until they did, I kept on running. Two people’s lives could depend on me. I just hoped that fate would be kind and allow me to arrive in time to prevent the terrible scenario my mind had conjured up.
At last I reached David’s house. I skidded as I turned down past the gateway and moderated my speed. I spied the car that Northcote had been driving parked by the side of the neat villa at the end of the tree-lined drive. There were lights on in the downstairs rooms and I discovered that the front door was unlocked.
It had been two or
