The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1443 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Sometimes I don’t believe you, Cathy Cameron. Your husband has possibly been abducted and you’re talking about some fictional character.”

“Shush, my kids think she’s real.”

“Who?”

“Maddy Peters.”

“It’s a kid’s book?”

“No, but it’s suitable for children. I’ll bet you’ve read the Harry Potter saga.”

“What’s that got to do with anything, I’m hardly quoting Hermione every five seconds am I?”

“Perhaps it would help if you did.”

He huffed and puffed as he got in the car and started it. “Where to, ma’am?”

“Just wait a moment will you.” I tried to tune into Simon, but the blue light wasn’t there. I was sure he was alive but that was all.”

“This would be a whole lot easier if he had a tracker on his car,” Jim sighed and I turned and kissed him. “What’s that for?”

“He has got a tracker–after mine was stolen, he had them put on all the cars, including Julie’s Smart car.”

“Who’s the tracking agent.”

“Hang on it’s on my phone.” I looked it up, called the company and they ran their software, they gave me the coordinates and Jim put them into his sat nav.

“I’m surprised the police didn’t do this,” he said as he floored the accelerator and we screamed out of the driveway.

“Who’s to say they didn’t?”

“So why interview you?”

“You don’t think they’d leave him dangling out there on his own do you?”

“Hmm, they might have interviewed you to make it look like they were going through the motions–and then strike.”

“This is the police we’re talking about?”

“Hush a second–can you hear it?” Jim silenced me. There was the distinctive drone of a helicopter. “I think he could be following us. Hold on, I’ll do a quick detour.”

Jim suddenly drove the car into a multi-storey car park and we went round and about then out through the exit, which cost me two pounds. In the films they manage to avoid paying without having the roof of their car ripped off.

We came out of a different side of the building–the helicopter was hovering above it. “They’re following us, now are they goodies or baddies?”

“It’s not the copper chopper,” I said having seen that several times.

“So they might be following us by sight, no thermal imaging etcetera. Hmm, hold on tight.”

For the next ten minutes, Jim drove like a madman–I mean the certifiable sort, round roundabouts the wrong way, we jumped two red lights and headed for the dock area.

“Of course, there’s no guarantee than Simon is actually with his car, is there?” he asked out loud.

“He’ll be with it unless forcibly removed from it. The first night he had it he wanted to bring it to bed with him.”

Jim chuckled, “Know the feeling–if I get really fed up–sometimes I just take this out for a spin–occasionally, I’ve been known to sleep in her.”

“You men are nuts–I mean if I fell asleep on my favourite bike–I’d fall off.”

“You mean you prefer your push bike to that piece of German engineering parked in your drive?”

“Yes–why?”

“And you said I was nuts–compared to you, I’m the sanest person I know.”

“I have it on good authority that I am sane too; how many people do you know anyway?”

“Look, missus, while we’re arguing, Simon may be being tortured or being given a truth drug.”

“That won’t work on him,” I said.

“How d’you know–they can’t train you against those.”

“They can, remember he’s a banker, he lies for England.”

“I thought he was Scots?”

“He is, but his father does it for them.”

“Oh,” he smirked, “You’re something else aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a woman, I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Yes, very funny–nearly there, and we seem to have lost the helicopter.” He pulled up in a yard belonging to a warehouse and pulled out a tray from under his seat, from which he took an automatic pistol–which he loaded and placed in the back of his trousers, his jacket covering it from behind.

“Do we really need that–you know I don’t like guns.”

“I sincerely hope our friends feel the same way, in which case, I’ll save on the cartridges. The place we want is over there.” He indicated a yard full of shipping containers.

“We haven’t got to search all of those have we?” To my eye it looked as if there were hundreds of them.

“No, only the ones on the bottom.”

“Why those ones?”

“They’re hiding a car in one, remember?”

“True,” I hadn’t thought of that. “D’you think the safe is in the same container?”

“Could be, there’s so much noise going on that you could practically have a brass band practice in one of these and no one would pay any attention.” There was a background noise of machinery and engines of lorries and trucks.

We managed to get past the security man on the gate and began walking up and down the rows of containers. “Oh well, one good thing,” Jim said loudly just above the din.

“What’s that?”

“If it had been Southampton, we could have been here for weeks.”

Southampton is a container port with thousands of the metal boxes stacked several storeys high.

“This used to be part of the naval base until the Luftwaffe found it, seems they could prime some of their bombs–flattened the lot–didn’t find half the people who worked here.”

I shivered despite the fact that it was supposed to be August and summer time.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked obviously seeing me shiver.

“Dunno–someone walked on my grave.” I’d had a strange chill run right up my spine.

“Hush,” he placed his finger on my lips, then pointed at the container we just passed. He placed a small magnet thing on the side of it and screwed an earphone into his right ear. How he could hear anything with all the noise, goodness only knows but he finally decided that there was nothing in there of interest to us.

“What was all that about?”

“Oh–just playing a hunch, sometimes women are like cats–they sense things–more than men do at least–we’re like blocks of wood in the sensitivity stakes.”

“I had noticed,” I smiled back at him.

“Look out,” he pushed me to one side as shot rang out. He dodged behind a container. “Go back to the car and call the plod, tell them what’s happening and get some reinforcements down here.”

“What about you?” I asked anxiously.

“I’ll try and make sure no one leaves.”

“Don’t scratch Simon or his precious car, will you?”

“Here,” he threw me his keys, “call the plod, but if I come running, get that car ready to go and quick.”

“I’ll put the roof down, shall I?”

“Not yet–it gets dusty if you do that.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready to go and quickly–it’s an adverb.”

“What is?”

“Quickly, it describes how we shall go–which is a verb.”

“Just go,” he said shaking his head. I ran back to the car and dialled nine nine nine. I told the police what was happening and they promised to come as soon as they could. I repeated that we’d been shot at, and they told us it would definitely be today they would call.

Once in the car, I adjusted the seat and mirror and started the engine–it purred into life. I liked this car–but then you knew that anyway–however, it’s not really suitable for half a dozen kids.

I was sitting there watching across to the container yard when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, someone was walking up behind the car holding something that looked suspiciously like a gun. I waited until he was nearly at me and threw it into reverse, running him down in the process. I drove forwards and jumped out, he was lying on the ground the gun just beyond his grasp. I picked it up and pointed it at him.

“You have a choice, you can tell me where my husband is and also the missing safe or I can shoot you, or if you prefer, I can reverse the car over you and crush you from the feet upwards–yes, I’ll do that–never mind my husband–I’ll find him anyway–but I’ll squash you first.”

I hoped I sounded like a total psycho–he acted like I did, and when I got into the car he screamed at me to stop. I went back a yard first, he was really yelling then. He couldn’t move so the initial impact had hurt him or he was a very good actor.

I got out of the car and walked up to him, still brandishing the gun–I think I was pointing it in the right direction–“Are you going to tell me?”

“Yes, okay.” He paused and I pretended to ease the trigger. A shot rang out and he fell back and shuddered, then blood began pouring from his chest. I jumped and looked at my gun–I hadn’t shot him–oh poo. Another shot rang out and I could see a man with a rifle standing on a bank of stacked containers. I went to run round the car for cover and a different pop happened and the man with the rifle fell backwards dropping his gun. I got back in the car and turned it round–if Jim came running, he’d have about two milliseconds to get in before I went from nought to sixty in about four seconds–sod global warming.