Page 70 of Return Ticket

He was getting back in the car, and before he could start up the engine, she darted across the road into a narrow lane, a street with high hedges and fences on both sides. Her bag slammed against her side as she sprinted, and she glanced back. Saw the car turn in after her.

She needed to turn right the first chance she got, knowing it would take her to the high street. He would be mad to try to attack her there.

She heard the engine growl behind her and she put on a little more speed, but the car easily drew level with her.

Mr. Mercedes leaned out of the window.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he shouted. “I just want you to call the coppers off. I can’t even get back into my office.”

She chanced a quick look at him, then ran even harder. There was a screech of brakes and she couldn’t resist looking back.

He had mounted the pavement to avoid hitting a badly parked Mini Cooper.

A car door slammed, and then she heard the heavy tread of running feet.

Damn, he was chasing her on foot now.

She could see a road to the right up ahead. She just had to make it there.

She put on extra speed, but he was gaining. She took the turn, and then saw the dusty blue Land Rover.

She almost stumbled to a stop in surprise.

It was parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant, and as she jogged closer she listened for and just caught the faint hum of electricity.

She looked back and saw Mr. Mercedes had slowed himself. He was walking toward her as if she were a wild animal he wanted to grab.

“Listen, last night didn’t go the way I wanted it to. And it was bad luck that copper arrived when he did.” He moved closer, and Gabriella stepped right next to the Land Rover. “There weren’t any bullets in that gun. It’s just for show. For protection, see? You were never in any danger.”

“Please leave me alone.” She didn’t like how breathless she sounded. She got angry, just hearing herself. Hearing how much he had frightened her.

He took another few steps. “Come now. You don’t look hurt. You’re fine, love. Maybe a bit shaken up, but you’ll live. I want you to drop the charges. If you refuse to cooperate with the Met, they’ll be more inclined to drop things.”

She stared at him in total disbelief.

“There’s bobbies guarding the doors to my office. I can’t run a business that way.” He lifted his hands, as if making a reasonable request. “I need you to call them off.”

She looked down, judging the height of the Land Rover’s wheel base to the road. She’d have to move quickly.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Mr. Mercedes spoke to her as if she were a child, and took a step forward.

Gabriella slid her bag off her shoulder and let it fall to the pavement. She didn’t need to get caught in the straps. Then she dropped to the ground and rolled.

The road was dirty, and she felt the grit under her palms. She lifted her head slightly once she was fully under the car and on her back, and looked for the switch she guessed powered the electrification.

She saw it was on the street side, under the rear wheel.

“Are you mad—?” Mr. Mercedes crouched down beside the Land Rover, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to touch it.

But then he leaned his head down to look under the car, and put his hand against the side door for balance.

She heard the crack, saw him fall back. She rolled out the other side, got on her haunches and reached under the back wheel and flipped the switch.

Then she ran back around the front to pick up her bag.

Mr. Mercedes was lying on the ground, and he groaned and turned, pushing up onto his hands and knees.

The sound of bicycle brakes screeching made her look up, and she saw the cyclist from earlier.

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