On television, the expert criminals got into cars like this in seconds. He’d had a lot of practice, but it still took an agonising amount of time to pop the door.
It was a blue, late-1980s Honda, not unlike his own car. He still couldn't get over the fact that Sarah had stolen it. One second he had been walking around the front of the car, the next she was in the driving seat.
Finally, he managed to force the crowbar into the correct position, pushed and the door flew open. Inside, the Magic Tree air freshener was losing its battle against cigarette smoke, which had permeated the upholstery. Printed papers were strewn about on the back seat and floor, along with a couple of empty food containers, drinks cartons and a banana skin. Fortunately, the car was not so much of a mess on the outside, sporting a single dent that gave it a lived in look.
He set to work getting the car started, this time pulling a small, cordless drill from his rucksack. He had the engine running in seven minutes.
It spluttered twice, but overall it was the uncaged animal he had hoped it would be. It had a much bigger engine than his and he backed out of the car park and put it to the test.
Soon, he skidded to a stop alongside a phonebox and left the engine rumbling while he dialled Sarah's number. He hoped that he wasn't already too late.