‘Christ, I’m bored. What time is it now?’ the Colonel asked, looking through binoculars at the eighteenth green.

Stanley was reading the paper. ‘10.35.’

‘How can anyone play a game that takes so long?’

‘Stop moaning. A cricket match can take five days.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if we were doing something positive, but this is like watching paint dry. Tell you what – I’ll bet you a quid the guy on the green misses this putt.’

‘Go on then.’

As the ball fell into the cup, the Colonel sighed, fished a pound note out of his pocket and handed it to Stanley.

‘That bloody siege is still going on,’ Stanley said. ‘They’ve threatened to shoot a hostage if they don’t get what they want. I wouldn’t want to be that poor PC they grabbed. He’ll probably be the first.’

Stanley folded the paper, put it down and took over watching with the binoculars. At ten to eleven he saw the four men walking up to the eighteenth green.

‘They’re on the green,’ he said.

Teflon picked up the camera and started taking photographs.

‘The way that Smudge bloke plays, I thought they’d be a lot longer,’ he remarked.

They watched as the four targets finished their game and shook hands with each other. Ten minutes later they all left the course in the same vehicles they had come in.

Chapter Thirty-Three

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

It was nearly 1.30 p.m. Jane stood in front of her bedroom mirror, put her wide-brimmed hat on and did a left and right half-twirl.

‘You look good,’ she said to herself with a smile. She went to the living room, looked out of the window to the street below and saw Teflon pull up in the black cab. She picked up her coat, then checked her Kodak Instamatic camera was in her clutch bag, along with a spare film, before leaving the flat.

Teflon waved when he saw her walking towards the cab.

‘You look absolutely stunning,’ he said, his eyes wide.

‘No need to look so surprised,’ she laughed, getting in the back. ‘I last wore this outfit when I was godmother at my nephew’s christening.’

‘Where to, lady?’ Teflon asked in a cockney accent, as if he was a real cabbie.

‘All Saints Church, Chigwell, please.’ She smiled.

‘Right you are,’ he said and moved off.

*

Teflon drove slowly so he didn’t arrive at the church too early.

‘You be careful, Jane. No matter what Murphy said, the wedding surveillance isn’t worth putting your neck on the line for. All we really need is the camel hair coat guy’s car registration so we can identify him. If he doesn’t turn up, then you may as well call it a day.’

‘I was only intending to stay until the evening reception starts, then I’ll make an excuse to pull out.’