“So we’re not much further ahead,” Gristhorpe opened.

“No, sir,” said Annie, who at least had managed her quick pint in Relton, then gone home for a bath and a few hours’ sleep before arriving back at the station shortly after dawn. “Except we’ve checked with the phone company and got Luke’s records. We’ll be tracking down all the people he phoned over the last month, though there aren’t many. The ransom call to Martin Armitage was the only call made after Luke’s disappearance, the only call made that day, and it was local. Wherever Luke is, he’s not far away, or he wasn’t on Tuesday evening.”

“Anything else?”

“We’ve got a fair idea of Luke’s movements until five-thirty the day he disappeared.”

“Go ahead.”

Annie walked over to the whiteboard and listed the times and places as she mentioned them. She knew the details by heart and didn’t need to consult her notebook. “He arrived at the bus station by the Swainsdale Centre at a quarter to three. The bus driver and several of the passengers remember him. We’ve been looking at some of the closed-circuit TV footage, and he walked around the center for a while, went into W.H. Smith’s, then into HMV, but he didn’t appear to buy anything. That takes us up until half past three. He appeared in that small computer shop on North Market Street at a quarter to four, which is about right, as he was on foot. He stayed there half an hour, trying out some games, then he visited the music shop at the corner of York Road and Barton Place.”

“Did anyone notice anything unusual about his state of mind?” Gristhorpe asked.

“No. Everyone said he just seemed normal. Which, I guess, was pretty weird to start with. I mean, he wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs.”

“And next?”

“The used-book shop on the market square.” Annie walked over to the window and pointed. “That one down there. Norman’s.”

“I know it,” said Gristhorpe. “What did he buy?”

“Crime and Punishment and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.” Right up Gristhorpe’s alley, Annie thought.

Gristhorpe whistled. “Pretty heavy going for a fifteen-year-old. What next?”

“That was it. He walked out of the market square CCTV range at half past five, and we haven’t found anyone who admits to seeing him since. Oh, and he was also seen talking to a group of lads in the square after coming out of the bookshop. It looked as if they were ragging him. One of them took the parcel of books from his hand and they tossed it around to one another while he flailed around trying to get it back.”

“What happened in the end?”

“One of them threw it to him and they went off laughing.”

“Classmates?”

“Yes. We’ve had a chat with them. At least DC Templeton has.”

“Nothing there, sir,” said Templeton. “They’ve all got alibis.”

“Which direction did he walk off in?” Gristhorpe asked.

“Down Market Street. South.”

Gristhorpe scratched his chin and frowned. “What do you make of it all, Annie?” he asked.

“I don’t know, sir. He’s been gone three nights now and nobody’s seen hide nor hair.”

“What about the Armitages?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure they’re telling you the truth?”

“They’ve no reason to lie now,” Annie said. “And the kidnapper knows we’re treating Luke as a misper. Remember, it was him who suggested that the Armitages get Luke to back up their story.”

“Too late for that, now, isn’t it?” said DC Kevin Templeton. “I mean, wasn’t he supposed to come home yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“So what happened?” Gristhorpe asked.

“He’s probably dead, sir,” cut in DC Winsome Jackman.

“But why hasn’t the kidnapper gone for the money?”

“Because he knows we’re watching,” Annie answered. “It’s the only explanation. He must have seen me when I went up to the shelter to check the briefcase.”

Nobody said anything; there was nothing they could say. Annie knew they agreed with her and could all sense what she was feeling herself, that gut-wrenching fear that she might be responsible for the boy’s death, that if she had stuck to rules and procedure, then things might have gone according to plan. To give him his due, though, whatever he thought, Gristhorpe didn’t say anything.

“Unless…” Annie went on.

“Aye, lass?”

“Well, a couple of things have puzzled me about all this right from the start.”

“I agree that as kidnappings go, it’s hardly conventional,” said Gristhorpe, “but go on.”

Annie took a sip of water. “In the first place,” she said, “why did the kidnapper wait so long before getting in touch with the Armitages and making his demand? Luke disappeared sometime late Monday afternoon or evening, according to what we’ve managed to find out so far, yet the demand didn’t come until after dark on Tuesday.”

“Maybe the kidnapper didn’t get hold of him until Tuesday,” DC Templeton suggested.

“You mean he really did run away and just happened to get picked up by a kidnapper before he could go back?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“Too much of a coincidence, I’d say.”

“Coincidences do happen.”

“Sometimes, maybe.”

“Or the kidnapper might have been keeping an eye on Luke for a while, watching his movements, biding his time.”

“I’ll grant you that’s more likely,” said Gristhorpe. “Annie?”

“It still doesn’t explain the time delay between Luke’s not turning up at home Monday night and the ransom demand on Tuesday evening, sir. These people don’t usually like to waste time. If they snatched him on Monday, then they’d have rung the Armitages on Monday. Besides, that’s only the first thing that bothered me.”

“What’s next?” Gristhorpe asked.

“Well, Martin Armitage told me that when he asked to speak to Luke, the kidnapper wouldn’t let him, said Luke was somewhere else.”

“So?” said DC Templeton. “That’s perfectly likely, isn’t it?”

“But he was calling from Luke’s mobile,” Annie pointed out.

“I still don’t see your point,” said Templeton. “Mobiles are mobile. You can take them anywhere. That’s what they’re for.”

Annie sighed. “Think about it, Kev. If Luke’s being kept somewhere where there isn’t a phone, then the kidnapper might have to go to a phone box, and he’d be unlikely to take Luke with him. But the kidnapper was using Luke’s mobile, so why isn’t he with Luke?”

“Could be where they’re keeping the lad is out of cell range,” suggested DC Rickerd.

“Possible,” Annie agreed, remembering her time out of range. “But isn’t it usual for kidnappers to let the people they want the money from speak to their loved ones? Isn’t it an incentive to pay? Proof of life?”

“Good point, Annie,” said Gristhorpe. “So we’ve got two unusual variations on the formula. First, the time delay, and second, no proof of life. Anything else?”

“Yes,” said Annie. “The ransom demand.”

“What about it?” asked Gristhorpe.

“It’s nowhere near enough.”

“But the Armitages aren’t as rich as people think they are,” argued Templeton.

“My point exactly, Kev. So they’re struggling to maintain Swainsdale Hall and whatever lifestyle they’ve become accustomed to. We know that now, since I talked to them, but it wasn’t common knowledge. As police, we’re privy to a lot of inside information. It’s our lifeblood. But if you kidnapped the son of a famous ex-model and a famous ex-footballer, living in a place like Swainsdale Hall, how much would you think they were worth? How much would you ask them for the life of their son? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Fifty? I’d go to a hundred, myself, or maybe a quarter of a million. Let them negotiate down a few thousand from there. I certainly wouldn’t start at ten.”

“So maybe the kidnapper knew they were on their uppers?” Templeton suggested. “Maybe it’s someone who knows the family?”

“Then why kidnap Luke at all? Why not go for someone who had more money?”