“Solid?” he said.
She laughed.
“Like the Rock of Gibraltar.”
Trinity thought about Lydia’s comment later as he approached his bungalow.
Trinity had been to Gibraltar. He’d gone to a NATO training with British counterparts. He had stayed at a small hotel which featured starched sheets. The British agents were fun-loving guys who wanted to talk about the states. They wanted to talk about Dallas and who shot J.R. Ewing. The one woman among them looked like Emma Peel. Trinity paid attention to her. Her name was Pamela Roscoe. During a free afternoon, Trinity and Pamela had taken a cable car, gone through the siege tunnels and enjoyed the sunshine. They overheard a guide who wore a Union Jack bowler describing the Pillars of Hercules. The rock itself had been impressive. After training that evening, Trinity and Pamela went to a place featuring an American-styled Dutch act called Star Spangled Watermelon. Predictably, the band played Lynyrd Skynyrd. Trinity remembered the dual lead guitars and a twenty minute version of Tuesday’s Gone. Trinity had played darts, but not too much. He remembered there had been a lot of monkeys on the northern side of the rock.
Lydia’s card was in his pocket.
LYDIA PARTRIDGE
MALIBU WATERBEDS
SPEEDWAY BOULEVARD
From TRINITY and the HEISTERS
Coming soon.
Find my crime novels on this website and on Amazon.
Ape of Gibraltar by Matthias Forster via Flickr