‘No. But I think they fear losing things from their resurrected lives that they value.’
‘Ah. Well. We will see you both soon then.’
Aleksey clicked off just as Ben came in and flung himself down on the sofa alongside him.
‘What has been more important than being here and amusing me?’
Ben snorted. ‘Pretty much anything would be more important than that. I’ve been on the phone to the garage where we—I—get the car serviced. I wanted to know if they’d changed the callipers last time—if they had, then they might not have tightened the lines properly.’
‘And—give me some good news.’
‘Sorry. They hadn’t even been underneath.’
‘We need a new car.’
‘I’m already on it.’
Aleksey frowned. ‘I’m the one who chooses the things we own. I have impeccable taste.’
‘I’m the one who’ll drive it. I have final say.’
‘Then it will be a two-rank demotion for you tonight, I fear.’
‘What? Get up. We’re going to walk over and collect the dogs.’
‘Walk? I can barely talk.’
But Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen was not only disloyal, he proved himself to be sadistic as well. A two-hour walk over Dartmoor in a bitter wind and occasional rain had to be endured. Still, at least as the moron drove him and the dogs back in their friends’ Merc, he got to watch a soaked Ben on the rear seat being sat on by a hundred and twenty pound wolfhound with a minor flatulence issue.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Five
The new car arrived two days later.
It was driven by an extremely smart middle-aged man in an expensive suit all the way from the dealership in London. He was accompanied by another salesman in a different car to drive them both back.
Ben took the keys nonchalantly. The salesman appeared to take this at face value. Aleksey knew him better.
When the other two left, they did a slow circuit of the car together. Black, so that was acceptable.
‘It’s hand-build. In England.’
‘Good. It’s always best to buy local.’
‘Yes. I know. That’s what you always say. I always listen to what you say, as you know.’
They continued to walk slowly around it.
‘How fast does it go?’
‘Oh, never over the speed limit.’
‘Ah, I see. Yes, it looks like a car that doesn’t go over the speed limit.’
‘It weights two and a half tonnes, so that’s really safe. The main reason I bought it.’
‘Of course. Safety first. Isn’t that always my motto?’
