The Stealers by Charles Hall

chasing me
,
I could walk if I wanted to.’
But the nagging doubt would not go away, and it spurred him on. He was now packed and ready to leave.
    The sound of a car door slamming made him drop his suitcase. His right hand sprang up, like a switchblade, and flicked off the light before dashing across the room, in the dark, to the window. His hand slowly eased a tiny gap in the curtain and he peered into the shadowy greyness outside, only to find it was a neighbour arriving home late from work. Like a sentinel, he remained in the same position for some time until he felt confident it was safe enough to leave and he grabbed hold of his suitcase and exited through the rear door.
    Harry walked cautiously round to the front of the house and made his way towards his old Escort van that was parked amongst a row of assorted vehicles. He intended to drive to the lock-up garage where he had left the Volkswagen camper; he could then switch the vehicles over and head for the continent in the camper van.
    Crane drove into Harry’s road in time to see a shadowy figure leaving the side of a house, then toss a suitcase into the back of a van, before driving off. There was no doubt in Crane’s mind that the shadowy, almost macabre, figure, was Harry.
    Crane followed the van at a distance whilst figuring out his next move. He did not have to wait long. After approximately a mile, the van turned off the main road and entered a small courtyard. Crane parked his car nearby and leapt out. Approaching the yard with caution and keeping close to a wall, he peered around the edge of the building. In front of him he noted there were twelve double-sized detached garages. In the dim light, he saw that one garage door was fully open and that an Escort van stood in the yard to one side; its door was flung wide open and the engine was still ticking over.
    The sound of another vehicle engine starting up, prompted Crane to make his move. The clatter of both engines camouflaged the noise made by the sudden rush of his feet against the gravel surface of the yard. He darted towards the stationary Escort and found a suitable gap, where he could press himself in between two garages. He made it in time to see the camper now emerge into the centre of the yard. Harry jumped out – leaving the camper engine running and the driver’s door wide open. He then ran frantically to the Escort to garage it. As the Escort disappeared into the garage, Crane darted from his hiding place up to the camper, turned the engine off and swiftly removed the ignition keys, before retreating to his hiding place. Harry pulled hard on the up and over garage door; crashing it down noisily. Then, without bothering to lock it, he darted like a ferret back to the camper van, jumped in and slammed the door violently.
    Crane left his hiding place and sauntered towards the driver’s door of the camper. As he approached, he could see the frantic movements of Harry, who was scrambling about in the front of the camper searching high and low for the ignition keys. In the now suddenly quiet surroundings, Harry turned his head sharply as he heard the crunching sound of heavy feet upon gravel. His weasel-like eyes strained as they peered into the light of his headlamps, diffused and laced with rain. His eyes widened as he recognised the well-built figure of Crane approaching, holding aloft a set of keys. In a flash, Harry snatched at the central locking with his right hand; all the locks snapped shut. A wide grin of delight suddenly spread across his face. Then his left hand delved into his jacket pocket and produced a spare set of keys. Without delay he plunged them into the ignition, started the engine and, with the rear wheels displacing a generous mound of gravel, left the yard.
    Crane cursed as he hurled himself towards his Mercedes. He leapt in, fired up the engine and slotted the auto transmission into drive, aiming his car at the receding haze of tiny red lights in the