'Well, these people are certainly nasty, and they took out Jimmy Galante, so they know what they're doing.'

'You knew him?'

'I knew the name from my days in the Flying Squad. He had a reputation as a hard bastard. We had him down as a suspect in a couple of armed robberies but we never pinned anything on him, and he ended up running a bar in Spain, like Andrea said.'

'But why are they asking for more money? That's what I can't understand. They've got what they wanted. Why not just release the girl and have done with it?'

Bolt shrugged. 'Because they're greedy, I suppose. Maybe they figure that if it only took Andrea forty-eight hours to come up with half a million, then maybe they were selling themselves short. I don't suppose the fact that she brought someone along to the ransom drop made any difference. I think that was just an excuse for them.'

'So they were always going to keep squeezing…' Barry shook his head slowly. 'We're going to have to catch these bastards, Mike.'

'All I'd say, sir, is, don't expect miracles. We haven't got a lot of time until the next deadline.' He looked at his watch and saw that it had just turned ten a.m. 'It's only about thirty-six hours until she's meant to come up with the next tranche of money.'

'All right, point taken.' Barry put down his mug. 'So, what are we going to do about this one, old mate? Negotiate, or take them out?'

It was the big question. Bolt knew only too well that the problem with kidnap cases, what made them so different from other equally serious crimes, was the fact that the investigators had far less control over events. It was the kidnapper who set the tempo, and since the circumstances of kidnappings varied so much, the police procedures for dealing with them had to be far more flexible than they would be in, say, a murder case where a set of very specific rules applied.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

'I think the girl's still alive,' Bolt said at last. 'And I think they'll keep her alive while they need her as a bargaining chip. They've already said that Andrea can speak to her again before the next ransom drop, and there's no reason at the moment to believe that they'll renege on that.'

'But?'

'But, as we both know, they're ruthless. They've killed once. They may well have killed Phelan too for all we know. So if we spook them by trying to negotiate when they next make contact, my guess is they'll disappear back into the woodwork and that'll be the last we see of them. And there's no guarantee they'll let Emma go either. Especially if they think there's the remotest chance she can identify them. To them, she's just a loose end. We go the negotiation path, I think there's a good chance they'll kill her.'

Barry didn't look convinced. 'But there are a lot of things that can go wrong if we try to trap them, and if we mess it up it could be disastrous for SOCA. We're in need of some high-profile successes at the moment, so the public can see where all their tax money's going. A high-profile failure's going to set us back years.'

'You asked my opinion, sir. I think negotiation's the wrong move. If we can put trackers with the ransom money and play things right, we should be able to get our kidnappers to lead us right to Emma. It's risky, and there's a chance it might not work, but there's also a chance she's dead already. If we want to catch these guys, and we can't ID them before they make contact, then this is the best way.'

Barry massaged his head with pudgy hands, and tipped his chair back. 'Well, I'm going to send it upstairs. See what the head honchos have to say. I'll let you know their decision as soon as I've got it.'

As Bolt got to his feet, sensing that the meeting was over, there was a knock on the door and Tina Boyd entered the room, carrying several sheaves of paper in one hand.

Tina was a relatively new member of the team, whom Bolt had brought on board after he'd met her during a case a few years earlier. At the time she'd just resigned from the force, and it had taken a lot of persuading to get her to join the team. An attractive woman just short of thirty, with dark hair cut into a jaunty bob and smooth, delicate features that shaved five years off her easily, she had that look that was unmistakably educated and middle-class, and she could have passed as a primary school teacher just as much as a cop. But the look belied the tough time she'd had down the years. Bolt knew that Tina had seen and done it all. Shot during a hostage-taking drama four years earlier, she'd also lost two colleagues, both murdered. One of them had been her lover, earning her the unwelcome nickname of the Black Widow in some quarters.

When she'd finally joined the team a year or so back, Bolt had harboured the odd romantic aspiration where Tina was concerned, but any attempt at warmth or even flattery had come up against a brick wall, and he'd quickly realized that he was on a hiding to nothing. Tina was polite and she was pleasant, but it seemed you didn't get close to her. Even when she socialized with the team, she was always one of the first to leave, making her excuses before heading home alone.

'I've got some interesting news,' she said, approaching the giant glass desk.

'Tell us more, Tina,' said Barry with something approaching a leer.

She looked at them both in turn. 'Andrea Devern might be a high-flying businesswoman but her company's not doing that well. Turnover in the last financial year was £4.81 million but the overall operating profit was only forty-eight thousand pounds, which for a company that size is piss poor. It's also a seventy per cent drop on the year before on a higher turnover, and they've got serious debt to service with the banks. Andrea owns sixty per cent of the company. Her main business partner, and fellow director, is a woman called Isobel Wheeler.' Tina consulted one of the sheets of A4. 'She's a forty-two-year-old lawyer, divorced with no children, who bought into the company ten years ago and now owns the remaining forty per cent. Both women pay themselves generously. They draw salaries of one hundred and sixty grand each.'

'Nice work if you can get it,' grunted Barry.

'Very nice, but it's not going to last. With profits that feeble, the banks are going to be having serious words. And Andrea and her husband are big spenders. Their joint credit card bills mount up to a hundred and twenty K a year.'

'So, what's the interesting part, Tina?' asked Barry, cutting to the chase. 'They're big spenders.

So are most other people in this country. It's why the economy keeps doing so well.'

Tina gave him a mildly dismissive look, but when she spoke her tone was even. 'Well, I Googled Andrea's name and her company, and it seems that there've been a couple of articles about her in trade publications, but nothing of any significance. She certainly hasn't got a public profile. She earns good money but nothing special, so the question is, why on earth target her?'

Bolt nodded. 'It's what I've been thinking. This isn't random. It's personal.'

'You need to talk to Andrea herself, old mate,' Barry told him, manoeuvring himself slowly to his feet, 'and find out who the hell knew she was sitting on that half million in cash.'

'I will, but I reckon we can count in Pat Phelan straight away, and I reckon her business partner's a strong possibility too. Which means we need to turn up everything we can on the two of them.'

'We're on it already,' said Tina.

Bolt felt a rush of excitement. It was the knowledge that the clock was ticking; the realization that this case was going to be concluded in hours rather than months; and that he was in the centre of things.

It was a good feeling.

And one that wasn't going to last.