Introspective at the best of times, Jake pondered these new developments as he drove to Goodmanham. Under no illusions, anti-terrorism was a sophisticated branch of policing and he was an absolute beginner. Comforted by the awareness that he was endowed with supernatural gifts, he would have felt better had he found time to open and study the contents of the two aluminium cases lying in his boot. Since he hadn’t, he worried as he drove.
He stopped for diesel and phoned Huxley, who astounded him by saying that they mustn’t talk on the phone about Jake’s new employment. It seemed that his friend knew more about his activities than he did himself. Relieved that Huxley was taking it so well, he ended the call on amicable terms.
One cause of anxiety out of the way, he dwelt on another—Liffi.
