Finch was becoming impatient. He knocked back the dregs of the cup of tea Liz had brought him and gave the custard cream to his dog. 'I thought it was all ready.'
'Last-minute hitch,' Liz told him, and was so relieved when Frost walked in.
'Sorry I'm late,' said Frost. 'Got another call on the way back. Have you identified him yet?'
'It still hasn't started,' snapped Finch. 'I'm not very impressed at police efficiency.'
'Go and see what the delay is,' Frost said to Liz.
'Did you find anything?' said Finch.
'Eh?' said Frost vaguely, as if he didn't know what Finch was on about.
'The search.'
'Oh, that?' He gave a short laugh. 'I found six boys in the fridge, but none of them was the one we wanted.' He was relieved when Finch grinned back. 'I shut the front door as you asked.'
Liz returned. 'Hudson has signed a statement admitting taking the money and assaulting Mr. Finch,' she said. 'So there's no need for an identity parade.'
'What about the kidnapping?' asked Frost.
'He strongly denies that.'
'Let's see if he still denies it after I've finished with him,' said Frost, grimly. 'Get Mr. Finch to formally identify the travel bag. It's in the Exhibits Stores.'
'Won't take long, sir,' said Liz, leading Finch out. As soon as he had gone, Frost was on the radio to Burton at the house.
'We've found nothing that would tie him to the kidnapping and nothing that would suggest the boy was ever in the house,' reported Burton.
'The car… did you check his car?'
'Forensic gave it a proper going over nothing.'
'Right.' It was a sod, but what the hell. He'd have to think out his next move. 'Get out of there. He'll be back soon.'
Cassidy walked in on the tail end of the conversation, taking secret delight at Frost's downcast expression. 'Doesn't look as if your theory was right then, inspector.'
'I'm not wrong on this one,' said Frost stubbornly. He bent to pat the dog which was asleep under the table. 'It's your bloody master, Fido, and I'm going to get the bastard.' The dog opened one eye and licked his hand.
Finch returned. 'All right for me to go now?'
'Yes, sir. Thank you very much for your help. Our lady sergeant will drive you back.' Frost tried to sound as if his mind was on other, more important, matters.
Mullett waylaid him on his way to the incident room. 'Frost!' He sounded angry. Very angry. He had been sitting in his office, the phone in the centre of his desk, ready to ring the Chief Constable with the good news. 'The Denton team have done it again, sir,' he would announce. 'No, no,' he would add modestly after the Chief had congratulated him. 'I can't claim all the credit.' But his speech would remain unspoken. He had seen Finch come and long faces all round but no-one had bothered to tell him what had happened.
Bloody hell, thought Frost. I was supposed to keep him informed. 'Just on my way to see you, sir,' he said.
'You've let Finch go? Do I take it you found nothing?'
'Not a bleeding thing,' said Frost.
'Nothing at all?' persisted Mullett.
'That's what 'not a bleeding thing' means,' said Frost.
'All this time and effort,' snapped Mullett. 'All those men a full Forensic team all on overtime. Do you know how much this little jaunt has cost?'
'I neither know, nor care,' Frost snapped back. 'If there's a cash limit on the amount we must spend to find the kid, then let me know.'
'An expensive success I can accept, Frost, but not an expensive failure.' He stamped back to his office.
Frost joined his dispirited team in the incident room. 'All right, so we found nothing, but that doesn't mean we're on the wrong track. Finch is our man.' He ignored the scoffing snort from Cassidy. 'Take it from me. Finch has got the kid. The only ques ton is, where the hell is he? Can anyone come up with some bright idea, beau se I'm blowedif lean.'
'Assuming Finch is the kidnapper,' said Burton, 'why hasn't he come up with a second ransom demand?'
'He's probably got to work out another way of collecting the money. He's been seen at the collection point once, a second time would be too much of a coincidence even for dim twats like us.'
Lambert raised a hand. 'Do you think he's got an accomplice looking after the kid?'
'No,' said Frost. 'Finch is a loner. He's in this absolutely on his own. He's got the kid gagged, blindfolded and trussed up somewhere, so how do we find him?'
'We tail him,' suggested Hanlon. 'Twenty-four hour surveillance. Let him lead us to the kid.'
'Why should he go to the kid?' asked Frost. 'It would be too dangerous.'
'He's got to feed him see if he is all right. The poor little sod is only seven.'
'Finch is a callous bastard. I don't think he gives a toss about the kid,' said Frost.
'If there's nothing to connect him to the kid and he doesn't lead us to him, then what do we do?' said Liz.
'We worry ourselves bleeding sick,' said Frost. Then he stopped dead. 'I think I know where the boy might be.'
'Where?' asked Cassidy, without enthusiasm. Nearly all Frosts bright ideas had fallen flat on their face up to now.
'I was looking through some invoices and bills in his office. One bill was for the ground rent for the parking of a holiday caravan. A holiday caravan in the autumn… what better place?'
'Worth a look,' said Cassidy begrudgingly. 'So where is it?'
Frost spread his palms. 'I don't know. I wasn't paying that much attention at the time.'
Cassidy shook his head in exasperation. 'So how do we find out, short of asking Finch?'
'Leave it to me.' Frost glanced up at the wall clock. Liz should still be driving Finch back. He snatched up the internal phone and told Control to radio through to her in the car. She was to phone Inspector Frost urgently as soon as she reached the house. He hoped she would twig that this was something he didn't want mentioned over the radio in Finch's hearing.
The next few minutes crept by as he waited for her to ring back. It was a few minutes to midnight. The phone rang. Liz.
'Can Finch hear us?' He found himself whispering although there was no need.
'No. He's in the kitchen feeding the dog.'
'If he asks, tell him it's about a rape case. This is what I want you to do. There's a room upstairs he uses as an office. In the left-hand desk drawer there's a bulldog clip of bills waiting to be paid. One is from a caravan site. I want the address of that site.'
'How do I get it?'
'Tell him you want to do a Jimmy Riddle the bathroom's upstairs next to his office. If he offers you a bucket we'll have to think again. Do your best, love. It's bloody important.'
'I'll try.'
'Good girl! Don't forget to pull the chain afterwards — he's a suspicious sod.'
She radioed back from her car in eight minutes. The invoice was for the ground rent of a caravan at the East Seaton Holiday Caravan Park.
'That's nearly forty miles away!' protested Cassidy.
'So?' replied Frost. 'About an hour's drive. He could get there and back to Denton in good time to take the dog out for a walk.' He walked over to the regional map and marked it with his finger. 'There it is! Forty miles from Denton, remote and no-one staying there in the autumn. If I wanted to hide a kidnap victim, I couldn't think of a better place.'
Cassidy studied the map. The caravan parking site was tucked away well off the beaten track. 'We'll need a search warrant,' he said.
'No time for that,' said Frost, already winding his scarf round his neck.
