'I haven't started getting rough yet,' snapped Frost. 'Where is the kid?'
'I haven't got a kid,' she giggled. 'I'm on the pill.'
Frost let her drop. This was useless. He beckoned Burton over. 'Get SOCO and Forensic… and tell Sergeant Wells I need a lot more men down here.' He turned to Cassidy. 'Take Hudson and Miss Curry-belly down to the station and try and get them to tell us where the kid is. I'll follow on as soon as we've got things organized here.'
Blankets from the bedroom were draped over the girl and she was hustled out with Hudson.
Frost smoked and watched and tried not to get in anyone's way as he waited for Forensic and SOCO. 'Go over every inch of this place,' he told them. 'We want to know if the kid has been here.' Slamming of car doors outside as more men arrived. He went down to meet them. 'Search every building in the street. Search every flat, every basement, occupied or not kick in doors if necessary, I'll carry the can if anyone complains.' He waited while Burton organized them into search groups, then drove back to the station.
Hudson, in the white one-piece boiler suit they had forced him to put on while his clothes were taken away for forensic examination, sat in the interview room rubbing his wrists and his groin. If he ever met up with that cow of a policewoman on a dark night… He stared moodily at the uniformed officer leaning against the green-painted walls. 'How much longer?'
The officer shrugged.
'Where's Cindy, my girlfriend?'
Again the officer shrugged.
'Can I have a fag?'
'I don't smoke,' said the officer, sounding pleased he was able to deny this to the prisoner.
Hudson looked up as Cassidy, followed by Detective Sergeant Hanlon, came in. 'About bloody time.'
Cassidy gave the prisoner his long, hard stare and waited for Hanlon to load up the cassette recorder. 'My name is Cassidy, Acting Detective Inspector Cassidy. Also present is Detective Sergeant Hanlon. Where is the boy?'
'You don't bloody listen, do you? Watch my lips I know nothing about no boy.'
'You demanded a ransom. You paid for a Honda Accord vehicle with part of that ransom money.'
'I told you, I found it!'
'You are lying.'
'Prove it!'
'Where's the kid?'
'I don't know anything about any kid…'
Frost waited impatiently in his office for the result of the search, a cigarette smouldering away in a disgusting-looking ashtray, piled high with grey ash. Liz had phoned through to report that the Indian take away had delivered a meal for two, not three. If they had the kid, surely they would feed him… or perhaps the kid was dead, so they didn't have to. Hudson wasn't intelligent enough to have organized the kidnap. Perhaps someone else was behind it… the girl? She was still in no state to be interviewed, so it was up to Cassidy to try and get something from the man.
'Any news?'
It was flaming Mullett in his smart, TV interview uniform. He'd been sticking his head round the door every five minutes.
'Nothing yet,' Frost told him.
Mullett scowled as if the lack of progress was Frost's fault. 'I want a quick result on this one.'
'I believe you have mentioned it, sir,' muttered Frost. The phone rang. He snatched it up. Burton calling from the flat. 'Forensic have crawled over every inch of the place. Not a damn thing to link Hudson with the kidnapping apart from the ransom money, of course.'
'And how is the search of the other properties going?'
'No joy so far. A couple of people have refused permission to let us in to their premises.'
'Sod their permission. Go in anyway. We can always apologize afterwards.' He hung up. Mullett pretended not to have heard Frost's instructions so he could absolve himself from any involvement in the event of a comeback.
Frost glanced at his watch. What the hell was Cassidy playing at? He'd been questioning Hudson for well over an hour. A clatter of footsteps down the corridor and Cassidy came in, looking angry and frustrated.
'I can't get anywhere with him. He denies any knowledge of the kidnapping and repeats over and over again that he found the bag of money dumped in the car park.'
'Why don't we set up an identity parade get Finch to identify him?' Mullett suggested.
'I'd prefer to avoid that if possible,' replied Frost. 'Finch has already identified the wrong man. His defence would pull any subsequent identification to shreds… and the silly sod could well pick out another flaming look- alike.'
'What have Forensic turned up?' asked Mullett.
'Slightly less than sod all.' Frost picked up his ashtray and emptied it into the waste bin. 'Right. Back to Hudson. We forget the niceties and scare the shit out of the bastard.'
'Wait,' called Mullett. 'We don't want any of your famous short-cuts and corner cutting, Frost things that won't stand up in a court. The important thing is to secure a conviction.'
'No,' said Frost. 'The important thing is to find the kid… and that's what I intend to do.'
'I'm warning you,' said Mullett. 'If we lose a conviction because of your underhand methods…'
'If my underhand methods result in us finding the kid, then we'll get a conviction anyway. Don't worry, sir, I'll be taking all the blame if things go wrong.' He knew he'd get the blame anyway.
'On your own head be it,' said Mullett as Frost brushed past him on his way to the interview room. 'If this blows up in your face I shall deny all knowledge of this conversation.'
Cassidy gave a sympathetic smile to Mullett as he followed Frost out, his smile saying, 'I'm with you all the way, sir, if things go wrong…' But if they went right, he was determined to grab his share of the glory.
'Now what?' asked Hudson as Frost entered the interview room with Cassidy.
Frost dropped into the chair opposite him and banged a folder on the table. Cassidy had the cassette ready to insert into the machine, but Frost stopped him. 'I don't want this recorded.' He smiled sweetly at Hudson. 'Where is Bobby Kirby?'
'I'm not wasting my breath answering this same question any more. For the last time, I know nothing about no kid.'
'Right,' said Frost. 'I haven't got time to sod about.' He swung round to the uniformed man. 'Would you wait outside, please, constable.'
The constable hesitated, but did what he was told, closing the door firmly behind him.
Frost beamed at Hudson. 'Isn't this cosy? Just the three of us.'
Hudson's eyes flickered apprehensively between the two detectives. 'What's going on?'
Frost beamed at him and pulled two photographs from the folder. He slid them across to Hudson.
'Recognize them?'
Hudson gave them a half-hearted glance. 'No.'
'That's funny,' said Frost, as he tapped the photograph of Bobby Kirby. 'This is the boy you kidnapped.'
'I've already told '
'Shut up!' Frost's voice rose to a bellow. 'I'm tired, I've been up half the night and I'm not in the mood for any more sodding around. I don't give a toss what you say, I'm telling you what happened.' He banged a finger on Bobby Kirby's photograph. 'You kidnapped this kid and you killed the other one. You sent the ransom demand and you went with your slut of a girlfriend to the common to collect it. You knocked the old boy out and snatched the cash. You thought you would get away with it. You thought the money would be untraceable… but it wasn't. We've got you to rights so we don't give a sod about all your lies that you know nothing about it. We're not even bothering to record them any more.'
'Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I found that money. If you think you can prove otherwise '
'Shut up!' roared Frost again. 'You won't know me, sonny. My name is Jack Frost. I'm not a very good cop and I'm not a very smart cop, so I have to cut corners. Sometimes I might even have to lie to secure a conviction, so I'm prepared to tell all the lies going about you, you toe-rag. I've got no compunction because I know you are
