Free 3 of a Kind by Rohan Gavin Page A

seen the sun since long before my “episode”.’
    ‘Well, I don’t care if you can afford it or not,’ said Tilly. ‘I’m liking my style.’ She put on a pair of big sunglasses and struck a pose in the mirror.
    The Knightleys adjusted their safari jackets and stared down at their exposed white legs.
    ‘Well, it’s not exactly our natural state …’ Knightley admitted, as they squinted, examining themselves in the mirror. ‘But I think we could pass for natives.’
    ‘California is a hot and arid climate, so obviously tweed is out of the question,’ observed Darkus. ‘However, with the use of a reasonable factor sunscreen, I believe we’ll blend in within a few days. British tourists are usually given away by their refusal to remove their vests or to wear sunscreen, hence their tendency to go bright red, creating what’s known as a “lobster tan”,’ he explained.
    ‘Good point, Doc,’ his father concurred.
    Tilly looked at the pair of them and shook her head.
    Knightley called over to the sales assistant, ‘We’ll take one complete outfit in every colour you’ve got. And don’t worry about wrapping them.’
    After visiting an expensive luggage shop, the three travellers packed their new belongings into three carry-on wheelie bags and made the trek to the departure gate. Darkus remained mystified by his father’s unexpected fit of holiday spirit, but put it down to nerves regarding what might await them on the other side of the pond – American slang for the Atlantic Ocean. It was now approaching forty-eight hours with no contactfrom Bogna. Her behaviour in the surveillance footage was inexplicable, and her ultimate role in the mystery equally so.
    The other problem weighing on his mind was: why America? To get them off their home turf? To dazzle them with freedom, justice and supersize fries? Or to lure them into a trap, five thousand miles from their natural habitat? One thing Darkus did know was that if Bogna was bait of some kind, then they were taking it: hook, line and sinker.
    As they approached the gate, passing the row of hulking Boeings beyond the glass, Knightley had one last embarrassment in store for Darkus on British soil.
    ‘I wonder if you could help us,’ Knightley asked the uniformed woman in red behind the airline departure counter. ‘The kids have suffered a terrible shock, losing someone very close to them, and I wondered if it wouldn’t be too much trouble … to upgrade us. They’re taking it really hard,’ he added.
    ‘We don’t have any seats in Premium Economy,’ the woman in red responded, before breaking a smile. ‘But we do have three in Upper Class.’
    ‘Outstanding.’

CHAPTER 8
FLIGHT PLAN
    The Knightleys and Tilly settled into their seats across from each other at the front of the plane, experimenting with the fold-down flat beds and the entertainment systems. Knightley Senior sipped a glass of champagne and fastened his seat belt tightly across his waist.
    Darkus browsed a selection of movies, before switching off the screen in order to focus his mind on the facts: Bogna was missing, having fallen victim to a honeytrap, performed by a professional actor, and engineered by the mysterious Clorr Entertainment, who had conspired to spirit the unfortunate housekeeper to the United States. Darkus used the onboard wi-fi to conduct a brief enquiry of Clorr Entertainment, but all its employees had automatic out of office replies, its owners were untraceable, and its addresses, real and online, were currently ‘under construction’. All this while Underwood lay unconscious in a secure hospital ward. Darkus found the wheels ofhis deductive mind spinning hopelessly, lacking the connective tissue to gain traction. He turned to Tilly and found her staring at her phone, watching the timer counting down: 61:45:03 – 2 – 1 …
    ‘Any update?’ he asked.
    ‘A few fragments of emails. Nothing about who the Combination are, or where I can find them. Nothing more