But they didn’t get in immediately. Instead, they walked along to the entrance to the yard next door to the house, and one of them – the tall skinny one with the bruise on his face where he’d hit him – hoisted himself up to look over the wooden gate. He hung there for a moment, then dropped back and shook his head. Looking for the bike, Gerry surmised. It was hidden well enough, but not if they came back with a warrant and really searched the place. He watched as the two men returned to the car and drove away, and was about to turn away when something familiar caught his eye. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked again. There was no mistake. He moved swiftly to the head of the stairs. ‘Bernie!’ he yelled. ‘I need your binoculars.’ Bernie appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Never mind binoculars,’ he grated. ‘I want you out of here before they come back with a warrant.’ Fletcher almost leapt down the stairs to push Bernie aside. ‘Shirley?’ he bellowed. ‘I need binoculars.
