Robert Treadmarsh parked his car alongside the high brick wall and turned off the engine. Resting his head on the steering wheel, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply, letting the vibration and noise of the long drive settle out of him. Not lifting his head he turned his eyes upward. Lights were on in the kitchen of his first floor flat.
After a few moments he sat back, sighed again and then reached over and lifted the heavy briefcase from the backseat. He tripped the switch to retract the car aerial. There was a slight whine as metal tubes slid into each other and then a click as they settled in place flush against the top of the front wing. He pushed the release buttons on the radio. It slid easily out of the bracket. Opening the briefcase he carefully placed the radio inside and snapped the catch shut. After checking the headlights were off and the locks down he opened the door and swung his legs out, setting his feet on the gravel.
It was at the instant, poised on the edge of the seat, feet planted, ready to push himself upward, thoughts relaxed and unfocused that he noticed it. Later he couldn’t remember whether he had first heard it or seen it, caught against the bushes, flapping in the wind. It shouldn’t have been there. Not in front of their new executive flat. [for full story click here]