A hundred yards from the police station, Watters heard the footsteps behind him. Two sets of steps. He increased his speed slightly, then stopped. The footsteps stopped instantly.
Two sets of steps. Somebody is following me. Do they know who I am?
Somebody is following me. Do they know who I am?Holding his cane ready to fight, Watters altered his route, turned right into Euclid Crescent, entered the neo-classical Reform Street, and stepped into the middle of the street. It was common practice for glimping fellows – garrotters – to have at least one accomplice waiting in a shop doorway or close mouth, ready to assist, and Watters would not make things easy for them.
Reaching the end of Reform Street, he entered the High Street and looked around for the beat policeman. The street was empt
