‘Good point, Holdsworth. She’s got something to do she hadn’t planned.’
The detectives looked at each other, their thoughts on one train.
‘Your boyfriend has a job lined up,’ Sant remarked
‘Brad loves a spot of tailing,’ she smiled.
* * *
A promising sun had long since set and stubborn cloud was dumping heavy sleet. The Romanian kept to the bushes. He wore a grey hoodie, black nylon jacket, black tracksuit bottoms and steel toe-capped boots. His unshaven face was shielded by the hood and a woolly hat protected his bald crown. On his shoulder he carried a sling bag.
He took out a pouch of Amber Leaf, dipped down to extract a pinch, lifted it delicately and lightly padded it into the boat-shaped rizla he caressed in his other hand. Then he rubbed the ends of the paper between thumb and
