Classic Calls the Shots by Amy Myers

sir.’
    â€˜Good heavens! The bird has flown,’ I exclaimed solemnly.
    â€˜Perhaps he’s nesting here.’ He chuckled as he unlocked the other one.
    That too was empty. ‘Second bird flown too?’ he asked.
    â€˜You never know in my line of work.’ To make him feel he wasn’t being cheated, I carefully noted the clues of the empty garages into my Blackberry, and we parted good friends.
    I spent the rest of the day locally, trying local pubs to ask residents and staff if they’d seen the car. Without success. All that told me was that it had probably turned left into the Lenham Heath road, which had fewer houses along it and connected with the A20 running between Ashford and Maidstone. The next step was obvious: the next morning, Wednesday, I would check out the security at the studios with the guard himself. I didn’t want to run into Louise without some sort of trophy progress, but short of broadcasting an appeal to the nation, nailing down how and when and whither this car vanished was the pathway to finding it. I was reasonably happy with the ‘how’ at least, and even the ‘when’. Now came the hard part.
    Having checked in at the barrier, I decided to park first and then walk back, but the best of plans can be held up by a beautiful blonde. As I parked, a rather smart Bentley just drew up and the blonde was emerging from it. She looked familiar and I realized that I had seen her on my TV screen.
    â€˜Would you be Eleanor Richey?’ I asked.
    She turned blue, blue eyes on me. ‘Why yes, I would. And you are?’ She was cooing with all signs saying welcome, and her accent told me she was no English rose, but a fully fledged American beauty. The coo in her voice was not, I thought, a response to my charm but because it was her natural manner.
    â€˜Jack Colby. I’m part of the police hunt for the Auburn.’
    She looked impressed. ‘I love that car. I felt a million dollars driving it.’
    â€˜Of course.’ I smote my head in mock disgust at myself. ‘You’re playing Cora Langton, aren’t you? I thought they weren’t doing the car shots till next week?’
    â€˜Angie let me try it, the sweetie. She knew I was nervous about it, so we took it for a drive last Thursday and let me take the wheel. We went into Lenham Square and back. Caused quite a stir.’
    I imagined it had. Lenham’s a good centre for exotic cars, being near the A20 and the Chilston Park country hotel, plus its being a stopping point between London and the Channel. I doubt if it sees many Auburn 1935s, however. The village has a magnificent central square, surrounded by picturesque houses from medieval days onward. Cars can park there, and the Auburn would have had the whole population gaping at it.
    I wondered whether it was significant that the car had been taken on the Thursday night. Did I really think that someone had spotted it in the square, tracked it to the studios and arranged to pinch it that speedily? Not possible. Stealing a classic takes a bit of thought and planning. Even so I noted that the car had been in use that day.
    Eleanor and I walked to the studios together, and I left her at reception to return to the security barrier. But then I ran slap into Bill Wade.
    He was not amused. ‘What the sweet hell are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘Expecting to find my car? Got any leads on it yet?’
    One has to be positive with the Bill Wades of this world. ‘I know how the car could have left the complex. Now I’m covering other ground.’
    â€˜What ground, where?’ he snapped.
    â€˜First step the security guard and the DOP again – I need the list of who was on call last Friday.’
    â€˜The car went Thursday night.’
    â€˜I know.’
    He held my glance, and nodded, professional to professional. ‘Good. Let’s go see Greg. Roger will want a word with you about insurance after