`She isn't taking many clothes, then,' said Mcllhenney. 'No, there's another bag lying in the path.' As he spoke she bent to pick it up. 'Bugger me, it's a cat basket. She's taking bloody Tigger on her dirty weekend.'
'It means this isn't a false alarm at least,' said Arrow. 'She wouldn't take the cat to Sainsbury's.'
As they watched, the woman glanced quickly up and down the street, then strode down the path, stepping over her low stone wall rather than opening the gate, and walked off down the pavement, away from their position.
Mcllhenney made to start the car, but Arrow stopped him. `Wait a bit. There are garages round behind the houses. Look, she's just turned into the access road. She's gone for the Mazda.'
`Hope we can keep up with it.'
`No problem. She won't want to be stopped for speeding. And anyway, those things aren't as quick as they look.'
They waited and watched the mouth of the access road, with their car engine running. Less than two minutes later, a red car Pulled out, and turned right, towards the main road.
Mcllhenney put the car in gear. 'No!' said Arrow. 'That wasn't her. That was a Golf CTi.
There's more than one garage round there.'
I hope she hasn't changed cars,' growled Mcllhenney.
But at once, his fears were put at rest. A blue metallic two-seater, with black hard-top, swung out of the access road and followed the path of the Golf.
Okay,' said Donaldson, 'that's her.'
The Sergeant pulled their borrowed Peugeot away from thekerb. 'Want to start a book on where she's off to?' he asked. `Could be Aldershot,' said the DCI, `to pick up her boyfriend.' `Don't see it,' Mcllhenney chuckled.
`Why not?'
`Because that's a two-seater. If she's picking up young Short Wave, she'd have to put fucking Tigger in the boot!'
I don't see it being Aldershot either,' said Arrow, as they followed her through a sweeping right-hand curve. 'She'd have headed south for the M3 back there if that was the case.
She's taking us over Putney Bridge. That probably means Hammersmith and the M4.'
And where will that take us?'
`Depends. If she turns on to the M25 it could take us anywhere.'
`Great,' said Mcllhenney, keeping two vehicles between their car and the Mazda as it pulled up at a red traffic light. 'I like a mystery tour.
I remember a couple of years ago, Maggie and Mario were on an observation just like this. They got taken on a cross-country chase. The folk they were chasing went to ground in a house by the seaside in Fife, right on the beach. Brian Mackie and I were sent up to do the overnight watch. We spent the night freezing our balls off in the sand-dunes, while Maggie and Mario got to shack up in the local hotel. Bloody magic, it was. The Thin Man and I caught our deaths of cold, but those two have never looked back since.'
They headed along Fulham Palace Road, picking up the A4 in Hammersmith as Arrow had forecast. The traffic was light as they hit the motorway, but sufficiently thick for Mcllhenney to maintain a concealing curtain of vehicles between Ariadne Tucker and her pursuers as they matched her gathering speed.
Before long they came to the signs for the M25. 'Place your bets, gentlemen: said Mcllhenney. 'I'll have a quid on the M25.'
`No bet,' said Arrow, 'that's where my money is. I'm hoping she's heading for Derbyshire.
Then I can call in on my Aunt Ivy.'
Okay,' said Donaldson, exasperated, 'I'll cover those. I say she stays on the M4.'
A minute later the DCI handed over two pound coins, as the Mazda swung on to the M25, heading north.
`Chance to get your money back, Dave,' Arrow laughed. `She's got four choices here: M40 and the Midlands, M l and the North, or M11 for Buckinghamshire and East Anglia.'
`What's the fourth choice?'
`Drive in circles round the M25 all fookin' weekend.' The DCI laughed. 'Okay, I'll take the M 11. Neil?'
`Give me the MI.'
`Fair enough,' said the soldier. 'I'll take what's left. M40: Three minutes and three miles later he pocketed another two pounds.
`Right,' he grinned. 'Next bet. Where's she going to turn off?' `Bugger off!' roared the two Scots, in unison.
As it transpired, Ariadne turned off at Oxford, around half an hour later. She took the A40, skirting the north of the City of Spires, and heading on towards Witney. 'Nice countryside this,' said Mcllhenney, keeping her in sight, but in the distance on the single carriageway.
It'll get nicer,' said Arrow. His companions looked at him, puzzled.
She bypassed Witney, where the road became dual for a few miles, and was sign-posted for Burford and Cheltenham. 'Oh Christ!' said Mcllhenney. 'I've got a bad feeling about this
There's a jump meeting on at Cheltenham today. I think they're going to the bloody races!'
For a few minutes, even Arrow's confidence was dented until, with barely any warning, the Mazda, 300 yards ahead, turned right off the A40 into Burford.
Mcllhenney accelerated to the turn and swung on to the dramatic, completely unexpected downward sloping main street of the Oxfordshire market town. He stared ahead. The road was empty. 'Where is she?' he snarled, thumping the steering wheel with one hand.
`Take that left turn down there,' said Donaldson, pointing. I think I just caught her tail as she turned in.' Mcllhenney followed his direction. The road went nowhere but to a supermarket. On the far side of its car park, they saw Ariadne Tucker hurrying towards the entrance.
`Shopping,' laughed Arrow, as Mcllhenney found a bay near the entrance. 'She's doing her fookin' shopping! We'll be here for an hour, anyway.' He glanced at his watch, which showed 9.13 a.m.
He was wrong, by fifty-nine minutes. Only Donaldson saw her as she emerged through the automatic door, still walking briskly, but no longer rushing. There was a faint smile on her face. He dug Mcllhenney in the ribs and called to Arrow. 'Hey, that was quick: she's out.
D'you think it was her turn to buy the condoms?'
Mcllhenney eased out of the car park, following her but hanging back until he saw that she was turning left, heading down the main street once more. He slipped out of the junction, very slowly, driving as if he were a tourist, out early to beat the weekend traffic.
At the foot of the hill there was a set of traffic lights. The three pursuers saw the Mazda go through on green. As they made to follow on the amber, a tractor pulled out of an alleyway and blocked their path, just as the light turned to red.
Mcllhenney exploded. 'You stupid bastard!' he shouted through his side-window, red-faced and waving his fist. The tractor driver was a young man, in his early twenties. He glared back at Mcllhenney and dismounted from his cab. He seemed to climb out in stages. He was huge, at least six feet five, and built out of slabs of something very muscular.
He advanced on the Peugeot. 'Who are you calling-'
As Donaldson held the Sergeant's arm to restrain him, Arrow jumped out of the back seat and stepped up to the giant. They made a ludicrous sight, the little soldier gazing up at the vast young farmer, at least a foot taller than he.
`You,' he said clearly and loud enough for the pedestrians on either side of the road to hear. 'He's calling you a stupid bastard. You pulled right out in front of us there, without anything like a signal.' The ruddy young man glowered down at him. Now, sunshine, you're going to get back in your cab and move out of our way. If you don't, I'm going to leave you in a bloody 'eap by the roadside and shift it myself.'
The farmer laughed at him.
`Listen, mate,' said Arrow, crisply and evenly, in his finest Derbyshire, holding the man with a hard unblinking stare. 'This is your last warning. Move it or you won't be moving anything for about a month. And think on this. If someone my size says that to someone your size, it means only one thing. 'E can fookin' well live up to it! Get me?' To emphasise his point, he stabbed the hulk in the midsection, with the straight fingers of his right hand.