Martha was nudged from sleep by the sound of running water, informing her that Richard was in the shower. For one blissful moment her brain didn’t register the horrors of their present reality. But when understanding flooded her mind, she longed to crawl beneath the warmth of the duvet again and return to unconscious oblivion.

It was only 4.20am, but they had an early start to prepare for and there would most certainly be no more sleep until nightfall. Martha’s anger remained festering deep within. She would contain it for the present. Today was far too important to become embroiled in more arguments but she was afraid the decisions made between Richard and the police would not go down well with the kidnappers. Her husband intended to meet with them as instructed, but with only two-thirds of the ransom money they’d demanded and with the police observing, defying the kidnapper’s explicit directions.

It was risky, but everyone agreed there was no alternative. Martha had listened to DI Radford and DS Foster the previous day, who both encouraged them to go ahead with the proposed exchange. Their reasoning was based on the belief that the kidnappers were amateurs and when they saw the money they would either not count it or realise it was short but take it and cut their losses. Martha remained ambivalent but could think of no alternative in the circumstances. If only Richard had told her that he couldn’t raise all the money sooner, she would have stepped in to do so herself. Yet now there was no way to contact the kidnappers to ask for more time, so this seemed the only way forward – but such an enormous risk.

Outside, the sky was overcast, huge drops of rain were starting to fall yet again. The doorbell rang and Martha hurriedly pulled on a robe and ran downstairs to open it. She was expecting the police to be early but hadn’t heard the approach of their car. The two detectives, who presently seemed to spend more time at her house than her husband, were on the doorstep, shaking the rain from their overcoats as they hurried inside.

‘We’ve left the car a block away,’ DS Foster explained, ‘just in case someone’s watching the house.’

Martha nodded and was relieved when Richard appeared so she could go upstairs to shower and dress. When she returned, her husband was in deep conversation with the two detectives, the three of them seated at the kitchen table. On autopilot, Martha filled the kettle and set it to boil, then reached for four mugs. Her mind was a fog of nerves – she wasn’t concentrating and dropped one of the mugs. The three men turned to look at her then resumed their conversation without comment. It was a tense situation for them all.

After passing around mugs of coffee, Martha took a seat at the table to hear the plans for the day.