29The Golf GTi pulled up in a cloud of dust and gravel, Miles running out of the car before it had fully come to a stop. Sinclair stood on the top step, face set hard as chiselled granite.
“When did he leave?” asked Miles, panting.
“Early,” said Sinclair. “There isn't another flight until tomorrow morning.”
“Damn, he has a whole day ahead of us,” Miles gritted his teeth, slamming a fist into his other palm. “Why the hell didn't you stop him?”
“What would you have had me do, Mr Miles? Knock him out, perhaps? Lasso him and tie him against the garden fence?”
“Don't be so bloody stupid, man!”
“Well then, you tell me. I've been ringing you all day long, I did all I could. I'm not his bloody keeper.”
Miles turned away, face crimson. “All right, we'll make the best of a bad job and I'll ph
