a baseball game, an excited commentator offering a blow by blow account in Spanish, but nobody was watching it. Handy; the noise would help cover his entry into the grounds.
He looked at his watch, then towards the road. Any minute now . . .
Movement in the grounds: a soldier strolling from the mansion’s rear to its front. Shit! He was staying on the wide lawn rather than venturing into the bushes and flower beds near the wall, but would still be close enough to catch any unexpected movement in his peripheral vision. Eddie had replaced his filthy clothes at the mall with a black T-shirt and jeans, but they would hardly render him invisible – there was more than enough light coming from the pool for him to be spotted if he wasn’t careful.
He willed the man to move faster, but instead the Venezuelan slowed, taking out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one . . . then stopping entirely for his first drag. ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Eddie muttered.
Another look at the street—
He saw Macy jogging towards the gates. She had gone the other way ten minutes earlier, her low-cut, tight and very bright pink and black running outfit ensuring that she caught the attention of the two young men guarding the entrance. Her smile and wave as she passed had hopefully cemented her in their memories. Now she was returning, the inference being that she lived nearby and was on her way home.
The gate guards definitely remembered her, turning to watch her approach. That was part of the distraction Eddie needed – but now this arsehole with his cigarette was right where he wanted to go. And there wasn’t enough time for him to climb a different tree – a pair of headlights had just come into view behind Macy . . .
The soldier remained still, savouring the smoke as if he had stepped out of a 1950s cigarette advert. Eddie glared at him, trying to induce instant and terminal lung cancer, but to no avail.
Macy waved at the soldiers again, then jogged across the street towards them. The headlights drew closer. White earbuds in, she didn’t seem to hear the oncoming vehicle. One of the soldiers suddenly realised the danger and shouted a warning. Macy turned—
The car skidded to a stop. Not quickly enough. The screech of tyres was punctuated by a flat metallic bang as she rolled up on to the bonnet, then slid off to land heavily on the road.
Eddie winced. Even though he had been expecting it, and both Mac, driving, and Macy knew what they were supposed to be doing, it still sounded like a bigger impact than they had planned.
The smoking soldier heard the commotion. He saw the guards hurrying into the street, and ran to investigate.
Eddie looked back at the ‘accident’. Mac was out of the car, hands raised in an expression of shock. Unsurprisingly, though the collision had been entirely the pedestrian’s fault, the soldiers were siding with the attractive young victim rather than the elderly motorist, one of them shouting angrily at the Scot. Even as he advanced along the stout branch, Eddie couldn’t help but be worried – if they decided that Mac was to blame and called the police, or, worse, took matters into their own hands . . .
Macy was back on her feet. She blocked the Venezuelans from reaching Mac, apparently telling them she was okay. This seemed to mollify the soldiers, who began competing with each other over who would help her.
The noise had attracted a couple of other men from the mansion’s far side, but Eddie was only concerned with the smoker. Seeing that everything was under control, he stopped - far enough away to give Eddie his chance.
The branch reached almost to the wall, having been trimmed to a stump to avoid encroaching on the neighbouring property. He jumped off it, briefly landing with both feet on the top of the wall, then dropped down on the other side and flattened himself behind an ornamental shrub. He peered through the leaves, hunting for the soldier . . .
The man had half turned to look back.
Some noise, the scuff of the Englishman’s boots on the wall or the thump of his landing, had caught his attention. Eddie froze. The soldier’s expression changed from confusion to a curious frown.
He started towards the bushes.
Eddie reached into his jacket. Getting hold of a gun in a country where he had no contacts had been impossible; the only