Chapter 3 The hunt is on

The hired car, fast but not flashy enough to draw attention to itself, sped along the autobahn with Parker behind the wheel.

"You don't mind acting as my chauffeur, do you Mr. Parker?" queried Penny.

"Not h'at all, yer ladyship – in fact it would make me old Dad proud if 'e could see me now. 'E was in service, and me grandad too – 'e was butler to the old Lord Kinnaird. Me dad was training me to be a butler, but then I went into a different line of chauffering h'as you might say – getaway driver for the Carter gang."

"Fascinating," replied Penny, filing the information away for future reference. "I know the present Lord Kinnaird quite well. What a small world."

Parker glanced in the mirror as he expertly overtook a container lorry. "Do we know where we are going, yer ladyship?"

Penny gave a small shake of her head. "Not precisely. Mr- er Brains, has given me this device which can pinpoint the missing laptop to within a few feet, but the range is only a few miles. When we get to the edge of the city we can take the ring road and get bearings from different locations to see if we can get a better fix on it. When we do reach our destination, remember that I am Candace Wylene Hamilton, wife of Texan oil baron Garner T. Hamilton, so you had better address me as 'Madam', and, with your permission, I shall call you 'Parker'."

"That will be quite orl right, yer - er madam." Parker glanced in the mirror again. He had been somewhat startled to be approached at London Airport by a young woman with bobbed red hair wearing a scarf wrapped round her head, winged sunglasses and an American drawl.

Penny sat back in her seat, tucking a stray strand of hair back beneath her scarf. She had pondered as to which of her alter egos to use and eventually decided on this one. Wanda might have drawn too much attention, and besides, dear Candy was such a chatterbox that she could easily draw information from strangers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up in his hotel room, the Hood's face contorted with rage. He picked up the laptop, toying with the idea of hurling it against the nearest wall and smashing it into a thousand pieces, but managed to restrain himself and set it down on the table again. He had been so bedazzled by the plans he had seen on the screen at the Englishman's house that he had failed to notice that the computer had a thumb lock. Had he realised in time, he would have brought Sir Jeremy with him – or at least brought his thumb. He knew such devices could be cracked, but such things took time and he had hoped to have something to show prospective clients. He knew it was only a matter of time before the might of the Tracy organisation would be after him, and he had wanted to conclude his business as soon as possible.

The Hood closed the computer and pushed it into the small safe that the room provided, giving the combination lock a savage twist. Somewhere in this city there must be a computer expert, one he would find through his contacts in the criminal fraternity and bring back here to unlock the secrets of this machine for him .

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny examined the tracking device as the car pulled up in front of a large hotel. "Yes, Parker, this is definitely the one. The signal is showing very strongly. I thought our quarry would want to use somewhere grand to impress his potential customers." She pulled out a small piece of chewing gum and inserted it into her mouth, grimacing as she did so. "Ugh! How I hate the taste of this stuff! But one does have to stay in character."

Penny entered the palatial lobby through the ornate glass doors,. As she did, she added a little extra swing to her hips and wiggled her way across the marble floor to the reception desk, much to the delight of the male guests present. Penny gave the girl behind the desk a great, big Miss-Texas-runner-up smile as she approached and drawled, "Excuse me, honey, but I believe you have a reservation for the name of Hamilton?...Candace Wylene Hamilton?"

The receptionist looked down her list, then glanced up, a puzzled expression on her face. "I am sorry, madam, we do not seem to have that name here."

Now it was Penny's turn to look puzzled. "Why, I'm sure my husband told me it was this hotel. He always makes reservations at the best hotel in town. You may have heard of him. Garner T. Hamilton? From Houston, Texas? He's one of the richest men in Texas, you know."

An older man, very elegantly dressed, who had been coming out of an office behind the reception area now stepped forward and spoke to the receptionist. "Please allow me to take over, Helga." He looked down the list again, then at Penny and smiled. "Apologies Gnädige Frau, my assistant here has just come on duty and has obviously missed the note. Of course we have your reservation. For one of our luxury suites, naturally."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest little ol' thing. Just call me Candy. All my friends do. I knew y'all could find my reservation." Penny smiled to herself. That particular form of flattery never failed. She turned to Parker "You can bring in the luggage now." Parker touched his cap briefly and left.

As the lift doors opened on the lobby, The Hood saw hotel staff scurrying to bring in a mountain of luggage, presumably for the young American female whose loud drawling tones filled the air. He was halfway across the hall when one sentence caught his attention.

"Is the safe in my room large enough to take my jewellery case? My husband just pitches a fit if I don't lock up my jewellery every night." Penny produced a case specially selected before the trip because its dimensions were similar to those of the stolen laptop. That was another reason she had thought the Hood would choose an expensive hotel. He would not want to leave the laptop lying around, but nor would he want to draw attention to it by asking to put it in the manager's safe.

The Hood's ears pricked up. Jewels? Maybe he would be able to salvage something from this trip after all. He hesitated. He would like to know what room the woman had been given, but did not want to hang around so long that he drew attention to himself. Suddenly an idea struck him, and his hand went to his pocket. Yes! He still had a spare tracking device like the one he had put on Tracy's car the night before. The device was little more than a slim strip of metal, which could be easily attached to any object. While the manager was assuring the woman that the safe in her room would easily accommodate her jewels, The Hood moved towards the reception, his room key in his hand. As he got to the pile of suitcases he dropped the key. Bending to retrieve it, he stuck the tracker to the side of one of the cases. He handed his key to the receptionist with little more than a cursory glance at the American woman and her manservant, before leaving the hotel.