Target

There was a scrape on the gravel behind me.

Then, before I could turn round, a hand grabbed me tightly by the shoulder.

Twenty-one

'Who the hell are you?' demanded a well-built middle-aged man.

It had to be Roy Brakspear. He had exactly the same eyes as Je

'I'm a friend of Je

His expression softened. 'Are you the lad who reported her missing?'

'Yes, I reported it,' I replied. 'And the police told me you said she went on holiday to Spain. But she was with me.'

He nodded, looking concerned. 'I thought she had, but it seems I was wrong.' He took my arm again, gently this time. 'Listen, you'd better come inside.'

Something wasn't right. I could sense it. Roy Brakspear was smiling at me but a bead of sweat was ru

I had an awful feeling that if I went inside that house I might not come back out of it again. But I kept my cool. 'You need to speak to the police again, Mr Brakspear. I'll call them now.' I flicked open my mobile phone.

His smile immediately disappeared, and his grip on my arm tightened again. 'Let's do it from the house. Come on.'

Then he did a strange thing. He silently mouthed a word at me: 'Run.'

I tensed as the adrenalin pumped through me.

'You've come a long way,' he continued. 'You probably need a cup of tea or something. Then we can talk about what to do next. OK?'

Someone else was here somewhere. It was possible they were creeping up on me right now. Behind me the security gates were shut, and probably locked, and they were way too high to try to climb. That meant going back the way I'd come.

Different, conflicting emotions continued to scud across Brakspear's face like clouds. Doubt. Confusion. Sympathy. Fear.

In one sudden movement, I broke free from his grip and bolted past him, heading for the back garden. He made a surprisingly violent grab for my shirt, ripping it, but there was no way I was stopping for anyone and I kept going, stuffing the mobile in my pocket, seeing the boot sticking out behind the wall at the last possible moment.

The big shaven-headed thug – the one with the London accent from Je

I took a quick look round. Shaven Head was ru

The hammer flew straight at me, spi

Immediately, Shaven Head began fumbling in the waistband of his jeans. I didn't know what he had down there, but I could guess. Shit! Shit! Shit! Staring straight ahead, I charged into the leylandii and, finding a strength and agility I never knew I had, literally scrambled up the wall, diving headfirst down the other side and doing a painful somersault on to the path.

This time I didn't turn round. I was on my feet in a second and racing for the car, and freedom.

Twenty-two

The call from Rob Fallon came through at 10.38 according to the alarm clock by Tina's bed, and it woke her from a deep slumber – for the second time in twenty-four hours.

He started talking as soon as she picked up. 'We've got a problem. I was caught at Brakspear's place. I only just got out.'

Tina listened in silence as Fallon poured out his story. He was talking ten to the dozen and it was clear he was still full of adrenalin.

'That's all we need,' she said when he'd finished. 'What did I tell you about not getting caught?'

'I know, but I've never done this sort of thing before. I did get a photo of the other guy's car on my phone, though. With the registration number.'

'Good. Text it to me as soon as you're off the phone.' She sat up in bed and stretched. 'How about you? Are you OK?'

'I've got a few cuts and bruises, but it could have been a lot worse.'

It almost had been. Tina knew she should never have sent him. It was always better to do these things yourself.

'Where are you now?' she asked him.

'About ten minutes away from Brakspear's house, heading back to the M11. Trying to put as much distance between me and them as possible.'

'I want you to go back.'

'What? Why?' He sounded stu

'Because now you've disturbed them they're probably going to want to get Brakspear out of there as soon as possible. If they haven't, and he's still there, then I think we're going to have to call in the cavalry.'

'Won't that put Je

Tina sighed. It was a good question. 'Let me think about that,' she said, 'but right now, I want you to check if they're still there. Don't put yourself at risk or get out of the car. Just drive past and see if the Mazda's still at the front of the house. Then call me back straight away. OK?'

He said he would, although he didn't sound too enthusiastic about the prospect, and they ended the call.

Tina got out of bed and had a quick shower to wake herself up. She was pissed off with herself. This whole thing was ru

Fallon called back fifteen minutes later as she was making coffee. 'The Mazda's gone. Brakspear's car's still there.'

It was as she'd expected. There was no way the kidnappers could have stayed put with Fallon free. But it also made things harder. 'OK,' she said, weighing things up. 'Have you got anywhere you can stay for a few days? Somewhere you can lie low while we work out what to do?'

'Wouldn't it be easier if I just walked into a police station and asked for protection? This thing's getting too big for us now.'

'It would be if they believed you, but I'm not a hundred per cent sure they would.'

'Why not? We've got proof, haven't we? I saw one of Je

'But you've already withdrawn your story once. If Brakspear was still at his house and we knew he was being held against his will, then we'd be able to get the police involved. But he's gone, and it's going to take a massive effort to convince the people who matter that they need to investigate. By that time, Je