Shroud of Concealment (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) by Andrew Towning Page A

penthouse.
    “Dillon.”
    “Yes, I know. You really did give me your real name. Wasn’t that a bit foolish?”
    Dillon mouthed ‘Hart’ silently to Havelock, and pointed at the tiny phone in his hand.
    “And why should that be foolish? I thought that we were both being honest with each other. And anyway, you’ve got me on your CCTV; you’d have traced me sooner or later. But I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve bothered.”
    “Mr. Dillon, I simply wanted you to know just how quickly you could be tracked down. And from the mobile phone company records, I now know where you live.”
    “Well, bully for you. And by the way, I’m not planning to move in the near future. Now, was there something else that you wanted to say?”
    “I’ve already said it. I wanted you to be fully aware that I now know where you are.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Hart. And I hope that you sleep better for it.”
    “Oh, I have no trouble sleeping. But will you sleep as soundly tonight? Think about it, Mr. Dillon.”

CHAPTER FOUR

    Havelock watched patiently whilst Dillon walked off outside onto the deck. He knew him well enough not to be overly persistent and refrained from asking him the obvious question.
    “It makes no difference,” Dillon said, as if reading the other man’s thoughts.
    “Having tried a full frontal attack, he’s now on the offensive in exactly the same way. He’s that type of man. Perhaps it’s just another reason for not going to Delhi. I’ve been warned off in no uncertain terms. And I’m taking him seriously.”
    Dillon came back inside, closed the glass panel and walked across the spacious room to the lift, stepped inside with Havelock, and said, “I’ll come down with you; see you to your car.”
    Havelock gave him a sideward glance, but said nothing.
    They walked out on to the pavement. Dillon looked up at the building on the other side of the street; an elderly woman was sitting by the window of her first floor apartment, reading a newspaper. On seeing Dillon come outside, she closed the newspaper and then immediately opened it again. Havelock’s Lexus was parked in a visitor space near the Embankment.
    Dillon knew the signal was to alert him to something strange having happened or someone unknown having turned up. He squeezed Havelock’s arm in warning and escorted him to his car.
    Havelock unlocked the car door remotely, instinctively knowing that something was wrong and taking his cue from Dillon, who casually looked up and down the road as he held the door open, whilst a frustrated Havelock climbed in.
    Dillon’s mobile phone started to vibrate in his pocket. The text message was short and to the point, and read, ‘Black car by doorway, fifty yards up on left’. Dillon looked up and nodded once in the direction of the old lady who was still sitting by the window reading her newspaper.
    Dillon leant into Havelock’s car and said quietly, “Next time you visit, bring one hundred pounds in cash for my guardian angel up there. It’s about time you paid her for keeping an eye on your car.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Havelock was looking around, hoping that Dillon was going to tell him what the hell was going on, but all that he added was, “When you drive off, make sure it’s nice and slowly and keep your eyes straight ahead.”
    He stood up, closed the door with a heavy thud and stepped back up onto the pavement. The Lexus drove off and Dillon ran quickly and silently in its wake to where the old lady had indicated. He reached the black Vauxhall Vectra, ducked in low behind it, just as someone emerged from the darkened doorway of an apartment building.
    The old lady in the first floor apartment had pulled her curtains closed.
    Havelock turned the corner at the top of the street. Dillon stood up and moved towards the thick-set man. The punch was wild and missed Dillon’s head by a mile, but allowed him to deliver a heavy blow to the other man’s stomach. As he doubled up with a