CHAPTER TWENTY:  A CHASE GOES NOWHERE

Charlie Riggs hadn’t run that fast since his marathon days. His lungs were on fire well before his pride would let him slow down.

The maid shot along the corridor, all wiry energy and muscle memory. She clearly knew the hotel’s back routes better than any of them. By the time Riggs and Georgie reached the service stairwell at the far end, she was halfway down it, her footsteps echoing.

“Come on, Charlie!” Georgie shouted, already overtaking him.

That helped. Pride was as good as a defibrillator. The pain in his side dulled as old instincts kicked in. Hartleydale Harriers. Sunday races. The Hartleydale Iron Man. Somewhere in his bones the pattern of this landscape still lived.

They burst out th...

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