As the truck rolls out of the forecourt, onto the main road, the blond guy, from the café, is standing outside, watching them depart. He gets into the blue Austin 1800, closes over the door, and then winds the window down. He doesn’t start the engine, however. Instead, he produces a half-bottle of whisky and takes a swig from it.
Out of the blue, there is the blaring sound of a police-vehicle siren coming from nearby. The blond guy quickly tucks his bottle away, starts up the engine of his blue Austin, and carefully drives over the potholes and puddles of the forecourt. He accelerates off, onto the main road, in the same direction as the tanker-truck.
Just a few seconds later, a white Rover P6 3500 police-car comes screaming along the main road at a crazy speed. The Rover swerves into the forecourt of the café and screeches to a halt. Two cops leap out and head into the café.
The cops talk to the café boss-man, over the counter, showing him notes and pictures, and asking him questions. The boss-man dutifully answers. The cops then depart, in a rush.
