Chapter 183: Her Enemy's Promise, Part 3, The Search

MICHAEL

The blindingly bloody obvious finally hits me between the eyes.

Fuck!

I bang the dashboard with a fist.

Stupid. Stupid.

I'm trying to drive through the City one-way system in traffic. If I go on foot...

Think with your brain. Not panic and adrenalin...

Spinning the steering wheel, I squeal across two lanes and a junction, cut in front of a taxi driver, then park up, two wheels on the kerb.

Ignoring the screeched curses from the cabbie behind me, giving only passing thought that the car is likely to be towed, I set off at a run, abandoning car, bug and all.

*****

Hot, lungs heaving, heart pumping and dripping with sweat, I burst through the doors of Francesca's department store.

The tearooms are on the top floor. Middle-class ladies with crimped hair and primped clothes look at me askance as I head for the elevator. One prize example makes a show of wafting the air by her face as at the last moment, I take the escalator instead, so I can scan the shop floor.