Serena was an attractive woman, Radford thought, even with the scratches and swelling to her face. Her right arm was strapped to her body, presumably broken, as well as a couple of ribs and she would have two black eyes in a few hours. She turned when she heard them approach. Her back straightened and her chin tilted upwards in a defiant gesture.

Serena cast a cold and piercing gaze towards them, her lips pressed tightly together, issuing an unspoken challenge. Clearly she knew they were policemen even before they showed their ID and from her body language Radford could tell she wasn’t going to make their job easy for them.

His first question was to ask her name and his face registered surprise when she replied Joanne Turner. A smug smile tugged at her lips as she watched him connect the dots in his mind.

‘Yes, Pete’s my brother.’ Her words were spoken with a certain amount of pride, but she was reluctant to answer any more questions. They would have to work hard to get more information from her.

DI Radford thought it pointless to attempt anything other than arresting her at this stage. Formal interviews could be undertaken at the police station when Joanne was released, hopefully, the following day. The DI nodded to Graham who informed her of her right to silence before arresting Joanne for conspiracy to kidnap. Other charges would almost certainly follow.

Interviewing Pete would have to wait until the next day or when he was released from the hospital. He would be arrested, initially on a charge of kidnap and murder, with other charges to follow, including several driving offences.

When the uniformed officers arrived to take charge of the prisoners, Radford and Foster left the hospital and headed back to the station. It was only lunchtime but the day had already been long and eventful. Radford’s stomach growled and he thought longingly of a good pub lunch.

‘Looks like I’ll have to fork out for that round I promised,’ Alex said, and allowed himself to smile for the first time that day.

EPILOGUE

MARTHA

One Year Later

My name is Martha Stone. From the window which looks out onto our garden, I can see my son, Danny, playing with his new best friend, Alfie – a chocolate Labrador. Alfie is full of energy, as a young dog should be, and my hope is that his enthusiasm for life will rub off on Danny.

The dog never tires of fetching his ball, chasing his tail and scooting around the garden like a whirlwind. To most parents this is the kind of everyday sight that barely registers, but to me it is nothing short of a miracle. When Danny was kidnapped and a ransom demanded for his release we were afraid we would never see him alive again.