“No, sir. Something wasn’t right. In my opinion, Luke Armitage wasn’t to be considered ‘found’ until I’d seen him with my own eyes and talked to him.”

“Fair enough. What happened next?”

“As you know, sir, I went out to see the family again this morning. I got the distinct impression they didn’t want me there, that something was going on.” Annie explained about following Martin Armitage to the drop and being stuck up the hillside watching the shelter by herself for hours, until she went back down to the village and finally found someone at home with a telephone.

“Do you think he saw you? The kidnapper.”

“It’s possible,” Annie admitted. “If he was hiding somewhere nearby and watching through binoculars. It’s open country up there. But it’s my impression that he’ll either wait until nightfall—”

“And risk leaving the money out there all day?”

“It’s off the beaten track. And most people follow the government regulations.”

“What else?”

“Pardon, sir.”

“You said ‘either.’ To me, that implies an ‘or.’ I interrupted you. Go on. What else do you think might have happened?”

“Maybe something has gone wrong, something we don’t know about.”

“Like?”

Annie swallowed and looked away. “Like Luke’s dead, sir. It happens sometimes with kidnappings. He tried to escape, struggled too hard…”

“But the kidnapper can still collect. Remember, the Armitages can’t possibly know their son’s dead, if he is, and the money’s just sitting there for the taking. If you weren’t seen, then only Martin Armitage and the kidnapper know it’s there.”

“That’s what puzzles me, sir. The money. Obviously a kidnapper who makes a ransom demand is in it for the money, whether the victim lives or dies. Maybe he’s just being unduly cautious, waiting for dark, as I suggested earlier.”

“Possibly.” Gristhorpe looked at his watch. “Who’s up there now?”

“DC Templeton, sir.”

“Organize a surveillance rota. I’ll ask for permission to plant an electronic tracking device in the briefcase. Someone can put it there under cover of darkness, if the damn thing hasn’t been picked up before then.” Gristhorpe grunted. “Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. ACC McLaughlin will have my guts for garters.”

“You could always blame me, sir.”

“Aye, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Annie, a chance to get bolshie with the bigwigs?”

“Sir—”

“It’s all right, lass. I’m only teasing you. Haven’t you learned Yorkshire ways yet?”

“Sometimes I despair that I ever will.”

“Give it a few more years. Anyway, that’s my job. I can handle the brass.”

“What about the Armitages, sir?”

“I think you’d better pay them another visit, don’t you?”

“But what if their place is being watched?”

“The kidnapper doesn’t know you.” Gristhorpe smiled. “And it’s not as if you look like a plainclothes copper, Annie.”

“And I thought I’d put on my conservative best.”

“All you have to do is wear those red boots again. Are their telephone calls still being intercepted?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then how the devil…?”