Out he came in a couple of minutes and the game was afoot. Through the restaurant he headed and into the electrical department, making for the escalator to the ground floor. I followed thirty yards behind, ready at any time to take a close interest in toasters and steam-irons if he looked round. Actually tailing him was easier here than in the restaurant, because there were a few other shoppers as distractions.
His movement was purposeful, as if he’d spent too long over the coffee and needed to make up time. He kept moving on the escalator and I realised I’d have to go some to keep up with him. So it was bad luck for me when a woman and child got on the moving stairs ahead of me and blocked my way. I couldn’t squeeze past without risking an accident. All I could do was watch which direction city break man was taking.
Straight past perfumery to the main exit and out of sight.
On ground level I zigzagged past the mother and daughter, declined the offer of a squirt of perfume and dashed for the swing doors.
In the street, I looked right and left.
Vanished.
I’d failed at the first fence.
How the heck did he do it? I asked myself. There were no buses in sight. Perhaps he’d hailed a taxi. He couldn’t have walked.
I believe I sighed heavily. Didn’t stamp my foot, but made my frustration clear, shaking my head.
Which was when a voice behind me went, ‘Something the matter?’
I swung around and found myself eye to eye with city break man. He must have been standing against the wall to the right of the exit. He had a mobile in his hand that he closed and put in his pocket.
‘No, no,’ I went, immediately on the defensive. ‘No problem.’
He shrugged. Hollow-cheeked and red-eyed, he fitted the druggie explanation better than the sex-tourist or the football fan, but at the time I was too confused to make such subtle distinctions. I’m only remembering later. The face had a faint echo of good looks, pitted smile lines that made it hard to dismiss.
He was like, ‘I’d say you were looking for someone.’
‘In a way, yes.’ I was at my wits’ end to concoct something. ‘I thought I recognized an old friend in the shop. She came out here and seems to have gone.’
‘What’s she wearing?’
What was she wearing? Put on the spot, all I could think to say was what Anita was dressed in. ‘Blue. A short blue jacket and black skirt.’
‘Can’t say I noticed her,’ he went. ‘Weren’t you up in the restaurant just now?’
‘The restaurant? Oh, yes.’
‘Saw you then.’ He didn’t say he’d seen my two companions, which was some relief. Almost everything he’d uttered up to now could have been construed as a chat-up line. He’d noticed me. He might even have fancied me. The others would say I was letting a major opportunity slip through my fingers.
I can’t plead inexperience. I knew what I ought to be saying. Normally I’m the equal of any smooth-talking bloke.
Instead I came out with a feeble ‘Thanks, anyway,’ that drew a line under the conversation. I wasn’t the alpha female I’d always promised myself I would be, given the chance. Instead of reeling him in, all I did was put space between us.
‘No sweat,’ he went, and walked off.
What now? I thought. I follow the guy and he turns round and thinks I’m attracted to him. Is that the impression I want to give? That’s certainly what my sister sleuths would want. My own instincts were all against it. When the chemistry is right I’ll happily start up with a guy, or so I tell myself.
Bollocks.
Let’s be truthful. I funked it.
I started rationalising like fury. The others hadn’t remotely expected me to get friendly with him. They’d be content if I followed him home and noted his address. That’s what I settled for. I’d go into Indian scout mode, taking cover at every opportunity. Shop doorways would be useful along the high street. The task would be harder in a residential road.
He’d already got some way ahead, marching up the hill at the brisk rate he’d started with. I was a good sixty yards in the rear. I crossed the street, thinking I’d be less obvious on the other side, and stepped out, keeping him in my sight. The grey hooded top didn’t show up too well at a distance. I simply had to get closer or I’d lose him. In the heels I was wearing it wasn’t easy. He was in trainers. He could step out, no problem.
Ours isn’t a huge city, and I’m reasonably well known to customers from the flower shop as well as lots of friends and neighbours. In the first two hundred yards I saw two people I would usually have stopped to speak to. They had to be content with a wave and, ‘In a hurry’ from me. There may have been others I didn’t even spot.
At the end of the street he turned right and was temporarily lost to view.
Panic. I broke into a run.
I was just in time to reach the corner and see him step into a pub whose name I’m not going to divulge. This was something I hadn’t bargained for. What now? Should I go in and risk being seen? I had no idea how crowded it was inside.
At this time of evening, I reasoned, there ought to be other drinkers. Presumably city break man would step up to the bar and order a drink. Going in immediately after him gave me the best chance of getting inside unnoticed.
Then what?
If I approached the bar he was sure to notice me. If I stood aimlessly or even found a seat I’d get some funny looks. A lone woman in a pub who isn’t there to buy herself a drink is open to misinterpretation. It wasn’t as if I had a Salvation Army tin to rattle.
On the other hand, I didn’t fancy waiting outside.
In the end it wasn’t a decision out of Modesty Blaize. A basic need settled it. All pubs have loos. I’d been wanting one ever since missing my chance in the department store.
I pushed the door and stepped inside, rapidly noting that the place was reasonably busy and that city break man was at the bar with his back to me waiting to be served. The door for the ladies was to the left, discreetly recessed. I was in there like a homing pigeon.
When I emerged, I had a plan. As I anticipated, he had moved away from the bar. I sidled up to it and ordered a glass of house white and asked for the hot food menu. There was a long mirror behind the barman and I used it to check where my man had parked himself. He was at a table to the left of the entrance and facing across the room. In front of him was a pint glass of beer. I was out of his sight-line.
I took my wine to a table behind him. The folding menu came in useful to duck behind in case he turned round. I was feeling more comfortable about this caper now. It was just a matter of making the wine last and keeping up the observation, or ‘obbo,’ as we sleuths call it in the trade.
Ten minutes passed agreeably enough. I rather wished Anita and Vicky could have seen me now, much more calm, in control, shadowing my unsuspecting suspect. The wine wasn’t the worst I’d tasted, either.
Then he was joined by a woman.
She was dark-haired, elegantly dressed in a businesslike slate-grey pinstripe suit softened by a pale blue scarf worn over the shoulder. Thirtyish, I estimated.
He didn’t stand to greet her and there was no embrace, nor even a token kiss. She took the chair opposite. He didn’t have the grace to buy her a drink. There was a short exchange of words and then he produced what looked like an envelope and handed it to her. She opened it, checked the contents, tucked it in her bag, got up and walked to the exit.
I was in two minds whether to follow. Something of interest had been handed across and I strongly suspected it had a bearing on our investigation. But you can’t be in two places at once and my main quarry was still here.
City break man didn’t remain long. Perhaps a minute after the woman had left, he got up. He hadn’t finished his beer, but he was off. Mission accomplished, it appeared.
I shielded my face with the menu. I’m sure he didn’t see who I was.
And just for a moment I was tempted to let him walk away to God knows where, just as the woman had. Inside I was as twitchy as a daddy-long-legs at a window.
