At first the ringing of the telephone was part of Skinner's dream. He was in L'Escala on the terrace, with Sarah on the sun-bed beside him, and he was dreaming of home. In the living room, the phone was sounding. . except that its ring was different from the usual Spanish single tone.
His mind was fuzzy with confusion as the dreamscape blurred. Then suddenly the sound from the bedside table snapped him into wakefulness. As he snatched the phone from its cradle, Sarah lay beside him, oblivious.
`Skinner:
`Boss, it's Brian. Sorry, did I wake you?'
`Mmm. It was my turn on the early shift with Jazz. Never mind.'
`Sorry to call so early, your time. I realise it's only seven forty with you, but I thought you'd want to know: they're back. Docked an hour ago. They sailed the big cruiser right into Vaudan's boathouse. Monklands just turned up, too.'
Skinner sat upright in bed. 'Any guesses as to where they've been? That's how long? This is Tuesday, so just under three days for the trip. Where could they have reached in that time?'
`The boys who know here say possibly halfway down the Italian coast, to one of the small islands offshore, maybe Elba. Definitely not Sicily. The best guess they're giving me is the
north-west coast of Sardinia. There's some pretty wild stuff there, and no Coastguard cover, so it would have made a good meeting point.'
`Right. Maybe we'll let the Italian police know later but, for now, are you ready for action?'
`Yes, the French are being very helpful. Their national drugs agency has put two cars on the job. The drivers sound as if they know what they're doing. They have a lot of this type of surveillance over here. Wherever Monklands goes, and whenever he sets off, we'll be after him.'
`Where are you now?'
`In an apartment straight across the road, about two hundred yards away. I can see the yard. . Hey, there's some action right now. Norrie Monklands and another bloke-' He broke off for a second. The lads here say it's Lucan. They've unhitched the trailer from Monklands' Transit, and they're wheeling it into the boathouse, out of our sight.'
`Okay, Brian, that's good work. You stick to it. Let me know once he leaves, then check in whenever you can, on the road. Speak to you later.'
Beside him, Sarah rubbed her bleary eyes. Whwsat?' she murmured.
`Brian Clouseau calling in from France. I think our game's about to kick off!'
She reached up and pulled him down beside her. 'Well, before it does,' she yawned, 'how about one final training session?'