Mr. Campion’s pale face wore that curiously pained expression which is halfway to laughter. “Didn’t the truck driver spot anything either?”
“Both the truck driver and his mate were very tired men,” Luke explained. “They belonged to Saltbridge, and they’d been south with a load of furniture for a friend who was moving. It was a quick, cheap, Friday-after-work-to-Saturday-morning job. They had delivered and were coming back and stopped at the café for breakfast. They saw the youngster come in and buy the cigarettes, the proprietor actually saw the car. Its hood was almost in front of his counter window, but he was cooking breakfast and didn’t watch it leave. After they’d eaten, the truck driver and his elderly mate drove on, sitting together, until they reached the motorway, by which time t
