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14.05.2016

The Venetian Pearls (Prologue) - Part 13



The room they entered had cream-coloured walls. Posters showed coves with crystal-clear, turquoise water, different species of birds, and people walking along emerald-green coastal paths with blooming lupines in the background. 

Already, the luggage handlers were pushing in suitcases and bags through a hole covered with thick plastic strips. 

Stevenson took his suitcase and turned to go. He almost bumped into a girl of about twelve with a dark brown ponytail. While he was grunting an apology, he took in her jeans, T-shirt and lilac-coloured, dusty trainers. The edge of one of those portable computers the kids couldn't do without nowadays was poking out of the denim bag over her shoulder. 

Stevenson looked beyond the girl. His eyes narrowed.
Another person was standing there, tapping his foot. The man was in his forties, wearing a brown suit, matching shoes and a hat. Combined with his short, black hair and the tiny moustache, his outfit gave him the appearance of a character from a razor-ad on TV.

Stevenson turned around just in time to avoid the man recognising him. That man had been driving the BMW out of the supermarket car park. That man who, this time, called himself Nuzzolo and appeared to be Barbie doll's husband. Why had they separated earlier on? Why were they now risking being caught together on a security camera? 

Stevenson glanced furtively around and found the reason. There was no CCTV coverage at the Isles of Scilly heliport.

The trip to the Scillies had been the right decision. If all went well, Stevenson would be successful where the police had failed. However, first he had to get out of here unnoticed. 


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