Part 4.
The footsteps echoed on the shiny marble floor. Looking around him he smiled, he loved this part or the building. The neon lights shining on the white atrium walls, slowly diffusing as they reached for the eight-floor roof. Which was made of glass, and as tonight was a full moon showed a beautiful moonscape with a neon under lit canvas that no artist could even imagine.
He pushes open the door and enters the lobby area, walking past the lifts he stops to remove a bit of fluff of his subtle charcoal Grey suit jacket and then corrects his tie.
As he looks up he sees a Black A.C Shelby Cobra parked outside, Classic White double stripe down the bonnet and very shiny chrome everywhere.
He approaches the concierge’s desk and smiles.
"Good evening Lee, was that the Lewis's returning from their anniversary night out that I heard arriving home?
"Yes it was, how long have they been married now?"
He pauses for a moment and thinks. He's sure the two professors Michael and Trina had told him how long they had been married the last time he had been invited around for a coffee and a chat the other day. He'd been busy but had to return the C.D that Michael had lent him, it was the one with Barbers adagio for strings on it.
"24 years!" says he. "Yes 24 years, they met at University, went on a trip together when they graduated, stayed away from England for 5 years, got married on a island in the Greek Islands called Symi. Small Island, beautiful architecture, glorious beaches, only one nightclub to cover all island. Yes 24 years I am positive.
Lee sat back in his chair scratching his head in amazement, puzzled by the amount of knowledge acquired and filed in his mind about the tenants of this very exclusive apartment block, in the city centre.
"Keys please." says he
Lee stands up, puts his hand into his pocket, and pulls out a key fob upon which a car logo is imposed, upon this is a single key. A car key.
He walks out of the front door past the video entry system. Down the steps to the street level. Onto the pavement, waves at the passing patrolling police car, which slows and the driver’s window winds down.
"Hello again, It's a different car every time I see you, Why do you get to have all the flash, expensive motors all the time?"
"Just lucky I guess Trevor. How’s your Neil, did he pass his driving test? He asks.
"I'm telling you, they gave me the wrong son at hospital, he don't like football, he hates pool and if that 'ain’t enough to piss a father off, he can't even drive. The dozy twat failed by a fucking mile, his driving instructor told me he couldn't even get a driving license to push a trolley around Mothercare!"
"Sorry to hear that, maybe you should teach him how to drive, you know try the father son thing?
The police officer chuckled at the thought of him teaching his son to drive and the chaos it would probably cause, but slowly his smile changed and he started thinking something else.
"See you soon Trevor," says he, getting into the Cobra and starting the tuned engine running.
"Don't she sound beautiful when you first start her up?"
The police officer tilted his ear and replied. "Sure sounds pretty, but you know me, I love hearing you start the Lamborghini Jeep you were in the other week. Thinking about it, if I seen anyone else driving as many flash cars around as you do I would have arrested them ages ago for car theft. Any way I got to go and look for some bad guys. I've done talking to the cleaner part of society, I need a fast injection of bad stuff to put my mind level from your happy little world of euphoria. I only wish my life put the same kind of smile on my face. See you soon, Do you want us to call round next week for a brew?
He is getting his comfortable in the custom made leather seats and listening to the throb of the massive engine under the hood. The kind of power modern, performance cars look to find, but this car had that. Enough power in it to cause parliament to go into uproar and pass laws to stop this car propelling itself at over a hundred miles an hour in seconds, when the cars around then were lucky to get to 70 miles per hour. In fact the government was so scared of the power in this car they passed the motorway restriction of 70 miles per hour speed limit on the motorway to stop excessive speeds.
As he is lovingly putting the gear stick into first gear and setting the clutch and accelerator, a hint of a smile curls up at the corner of his lips, he turns to the police officer and replies. "Yes, Happy days, and pop down next week at the usual time, and I'll have a coffee waiting for you. Is Sid on with you next week? If he is I will have a word with my mate the pilot and see if he knows any one on long haul to try to get that tea he likes. See you then."
Both cars move of in opposite directions.
Both would have very different evenings, one would be a man getting involved in drug pushing, prostitution, credit card fraud and what could very nearly look like murder. The other would spend all night driving, being nice to people and looking smart and being helpful.


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