The Key to Midnight

it.'
        Nicholas wasn't a master of evasive driving. He weaved from lane to lane, slipping around cars and buses, trying to put traffic between them and their tail - but at such a sedate pace that his passengers might have been a couple of frail centenarians on their way to their hundred and first birthday party. His maneuvers were not sufficiently dangerous to discourage pursuit. He turned corners without signalling his intent, but never at even a high enough speed to splash pedestrians standing at the curb, and never from the wrong lane, which made it easy for the Jaguar to stay with him.
        'Your daring doesn't take my breath away,' Alex said.
        'Be fair, sir. It's London traffic. Rather difficult to put the pedal to the metal, as you Americans say.'
        'Still, there's room for a bit more risk than this,' Alex said impatiently.
        Joanna put one hand on his arm. 'Remember the story of the tortoise and the hare.'
        'Yeah. But I want to lose these people quickly. At the rate we're going, we'll only lose them after eight or ten hours - when they're too tired to bother with us any more.'
        A London taxi was not permitted to operate if it bore any mark of a collision - even a small dent or scrape. Obviously Nicholas was acutely aware of that regulation. The insurance company would pay for repairs, but the car might be in the garage for a week, which would be lost work time.
        Nevertheless, even at his stately - not to say snail's -pace, he managed to put three cars between them and the Jaguar. 'We're going to lose them,' he said happily.
        'Maybe. As long as they play fair and stop for lunch at the same time we do,' Alex said.
        'You have a funny man here, miss,' Nicholas told Joanna. 'Quite a sense of humor.'
        To Alex, it appeared that Nicholas was being allowed to lose the tail. The driver of the Jaguar wasn't handling his car as well as he had at the start.
        A surveillance unit only willingly detached itself from a target when it was confident that the target's ultimate destination was known. It was almost as if the men in the Jaguar knew that Alex and Joanna were going to the British Museum to meet the senator and were tailing them only so they could gradually fall back and ultimately appear to have been shaken off.
        They came to an intersection where the traffic signal had just gone from green to red, but Nicholas screwed up enough courage to round the corner illegally. The tires even squealed. A little.
        The cars behind them stopped, and the Jaguar was boxed in. It wouldn't be able to move again until the light changed.
        They were on a narrow street flanked by exclusive shops and theaters, amid fewer cars than there'd been on the main avenue. Nicholas drove to the middle of the block and swung into an alley before the Jaguar had a chance to round the corner after them. They went to another alley, then onto a main street once more.
        As they continued to wind slowly from avenue to avenue through the slanting gray rain, Nicholas glanced repeatedly at the rearview mirror. Gradually he broke into a smile, and at last he said, 'I did it. I actually lost them. Just like in those American police shows on the telly.'
        'You were marvelous,' Joanna said.
        'You really think so?'
        'Simply terrific,' she said.
        'I guess I was. I quite liked that. Not good for the heart on a regular basis, mind you, but an invigorating experience.'
        Alex stared out the back window.
        At the British Museum, Joanna got out of the cab and ran for the shelter of the main entrance.
        As Alex paid the fare, Nicholas said, 'Her husband, I suppose.'
        'Excuse me?'
        'Well, if it wasn't coppers-'
        'Oh, no, not her husband.'
        The driver stroked his beard. 'You aren't going to let me hang like this?'
        'Indeed I am.' Alex got out of the cab and slammed the door.
        For a moment Nicholas stared at him curiously through the rain-streaked window, but then he drove away.
        Alex stood in the cold drizzle, shoulders hunched, hands in his coat pockets. He looked both ways along the street, studying the traffic, but he saw nothing suspicious.
        When he joined Joanna in the doorway, out of the rain, she said, 'You're soaked. What were you looking for?'
        'I don't know,' he said. He was still reluctant to go inside. He surveyed the