Chapter 10

The dirt track was full of potholes and played havoc with the suspension. Slowing to a crawl, the taxi slaloms its way to the old shack at the end.

Pulling up close to the crumbling wooden door Rob gets out, pays the taxi and watches it snake its way back up the dirt road. Rapping on the door, half expecting it to fall off its hinges, he waits for an answer. With an eerie creak that would not have gone amiss in an old horror flick, the door slides open. What emerged looked like a love child between Dr Frankenstein's Egor and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. As she shuffles over with her head to the floor, Rob greets her politely.

"Good morning, I called earlier about the car"

"Are you Charles?" came the croaky cackle

"Yes love. Charles Bentley"

"Ah well you better come into the garage and take a look then"

Charles Bentley was one of the names Rob used when an alias was called for.

In Rob's experience, he found that it was always better to buy a car then steal one. Too many idiots are caught on their way to or from a job by driving passed a copper car. The ANPR systems flag up that the cars stolen and that is it, the games over.

Walking through the doors of the shack, she calls a garage, Rob's eyes settled on an old dusty moth eaten dust cover.

"Is that it under there?"

"Yes son, you will have to take it off. It's a bit heavy for me"

For two hundred quid there was not much expectation but as long as it ran soundly, that was all the mattered. It was always nice to find an old codger selling a car. They usually keep it in good working order, serviced regularly and never boot it down the road.

"I've not seen the car in years. Once Jim, that was my husband, had died I never came in here. I went to the newsagent and they put the ad in the car magazine for me"

"Sorry about Jim love, might as well get a few quid instead of it rotting away completely"

Moving to the back of the car Rob grabs the tarp with both hands and yanks. The dust that filled the room made the old girl cough and splutter as she shuffled back towards the door.

"I am going to wait outside son if you don't mind, you have a good look" she spits through fits of coughing

"Okay, I will be out shortly"

As the dust settled, Rob's eyes widened, and a smile came across his face like a child on his birthday.

It was what he was expecting, a nineteen seventy-six Jaguar XJ twelve C, British racing green. What he was not expecting was that it was in mint condition.

Not a scratch or even a hint of fading on the beautiful body could be seen. The black leather interior was as shiny as the day it came off the production line and the walnut dashboard put any plastic dash of the new cars to shame. Seventeen thousand miles on the clock from new guaranteed that the engine was sound.

He knew straight away that Dan would be pleased with his first car, but it was too good. Grudgingly he would have to dirty it up a little or it would stand out like a sore thumb. Last thing that was wanted were for people to stop and stare as you drove down the street in this beautiful old motor.