“That’s the place, over on your right,” Donovan said.
They pulled up outside the neat, well-cared-for bungalow and got out.
“This guy can grow roses, can’t he?” said Duncan, who was a keen gardener. “Look at that Mrs. Laxton.”
“Who’s she?” Donovan growled, staring around.
“Never mind, sarg,” Duncan said, concealing a grin. “Pity he doesn’t keep his lawn better. Reminds me I’ve got to cut mine.”
“Keep your mind on your job!” Donovan snarled.
He rammed his thumb into the bell-push, kept it there for a couple of seconds, then stood away.
There was a long pause, then just as he was going to ring again, the front door opened.
He recognized the tall, good-looking guy who opened the door. He had been standing next to Parker at the bank.
Scared out of his wits, Donovan thought with sadistic satisfaction. Damn funny thing. I have only to ring a bell to frighten the life out of everyone in the house.