“With all due respect, sir, it wasn’t a simple kidnapping.” Annie gave her reasons why, as she had done before with Gristhorpe and Banks.

Red Ron stroked his chin as he listened, plucking at his upper lip as if he still expected to feel the mustache. When she had finished, he asked, as she had hoped he wouldn’t, “Didn’t it cross your mind just for one moment that the kidnapper might have been watching Mr. Armitage make the drop?”

“I…er…”

“You didn’t think of it, did you?”

“I wanted to know what he’d left there.”

“DI Cabbot. Use your intelligence. A man’s stepson is missing. He’s edgy and anxious to be somewhere, annoyed that the police are on his doorstep. You follow him and see him enter a disused shepherd’s shelter with a briefcase and come out without it. What do you surmise?”

Annie felt herself flush with anger at the rightness of his logic. “When you put it like that, sir,” she said through gritted teeth, “I suppose it’s clear he’s paying a ransom. But things don’t always seem so clear cut in the field.”

“You’ve no need to tell me what it’s like in the field, DI Cabbot. I might be an administrator now, but I wasn’t always behind this desk. I’ve served my time in the field. I’ve seen things that would make your hair curl.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m saying.” Was that a half-smile Annie spotted fleeting across Red Ron’s features? Surely not.

He went on, “The point remains that you must have known the risk of being seen by the kidnapper was extremely high, especially as you were in open countryside, and that for whatever reason you disregarded that risk and went into the shelter anyway. And now the boy’s dead.”

“There’s some indication that Luke Armitage might have been killed even before his stepfather delivered the money.”

“That would be a piece of luck for you, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s not fair, sir. I needed to know what was in the briefcase.”

“Why?”

“I needed to be sure. That’s all. And it turned out to be a clue of sorts.”

“The low amount? Yes. But how did you know that wasn’t just the first installment?”

“With respect, sir, kidnappers don’t usually work on the installment plan. Not like blackmailers.”

“But how did you know?”

“I didn’t know, but it seemed a reasonable assumption.”

“You assumed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look, DI Cabbot. I’m not going to beat about the bush. I don’t like it when members of the public make complaints about officers under my command. I like it even less when a self-important citizen such as Martin Armitage complains to his golf-club crony, the chief constable, who then passes the buck down to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. You don’t like it.”

“Now, while your actions weren’t exactly by the book, and while you might have lacked judgment in acting so impulsively, I don’t see anything serious enough in what you did to justify punishment.”