open and a man's head emerge to look furtively around. The man stared up suspiciously at the window of the Masons' bedroom and Frost jerked back. Younger must know what a pair of nosy bastards he had as neighbours. He hesitated, then came out carrying a tray covered with a cloth. He hurried to the shed, unlocked it and was inside in a couple of seconds. The light came on, but the curtains remained drawn.
'Good enough for me,' grunted Frost. He clicked on his radio and told Burton to hold his position at the rear of the property. He jerked his head to Liz. 'Come on. We're going in.'
The woman who opened the door was in her mid-thirties, a hard-faced blonde in an electric blue dress. 'Yes?' Her expression changed to anger as Frost and Liz barged past her, Collier following behind. 'What the bloody '
'Police!' snapped Frost, flashing his warrant card. 'We're going to search your premises.'
'You are bloody not.' She parked herself in front of Frost, blocking his way, but was yanked off by Liz.
'Calm down or I'm putting the cuffs on you,' she threatened.
'Cuffs? In my own flaming house? Where's your search warrant?'
'We don't need a warrant if we believe there's a life in danger,' Liz told her.
'Danger? What bloody danger?'
'Look after the lady,' Frost told Collier. 'We're going to take a look in their shed.'
As he and Liz went out to the garden, the blonde yelled after them. 'Arrest the, bastard Lock him up. It's nothing to do with me.'
They charged up the garden and burst into the shed. A man was sitting inside eating beans on toast from a tray. A portable radio was playing. As they burst in, he leapt up, sending the tray on his lap clattering to the floor.
'Police!' yelled Frost.
'Oh, shit!' said the man.
Along one wall was a camp bed. Stacked at the rear was a pile of hospital sheets, blankets and medical supplies. There was no-one else.
'Where's the boy?' demanded Frost.
'What boy?'
Frost radioed Burton who scrambled over the rear fence. 'Bring him into the house.'
The blonde was at the back door, trying to get past Collier. 'Keep that bastard out of my house,' she yelled. 'I'm having nothing to do with him.'
'Isn't this your husband?' asked Frost.
'Until I divorce the sod, yes. Until then, he cooks his own meals and has them in the shed and he sleeps in the shed. I am not having him in the house.'
'Why?' Frost added.
'The bugger's only been having it away with a tart in the back of his ambulance.'
'Once it happened once,' moaned the man.
'You were only found out bloody once,' she snapped back. She turned to Frost. 'Do me a favour. Arrest him. Lock him up. Throw away the flaming key.'
'On what charge?'
'You've seen that stuff in the shed. All the gear he's nicked from the hospital. It's no bloody use to anyone, but he nicks it.'
Frost's shoulders slumped. Another false lead. 'You can have this one,' he told Liz. 'I'm sure the hospital will want to press charges.'
Liz radioed for a van to collect the loot, then marched Younger out to the car. 'I suppose it was those two nosy bastards next door who shopped me?' he said, glaring up at their bedroom window where the curtains suddenly twitched and sunlight flashed on the lenses of two pairs of field glasses. 'I'll get you, you sods,' he yelled. 'I'll bloody get you.'
'Another false lead, Frost?' said Mullett, striding into Frost's office and pulling a face to show his disapproval of its untidiness. He had the local paper in his hand.
'Yes, another false lead,' agreed Frost, swinging his legs off the desk. Why did the bloody man always have to state the obvious?
'You probably haven't heard,' continued Mullett with a sadistic smirk, 'but Cassidy has obtained a confession from the husband in the child-killing case.'
'Yes, I had heard,' muttered Frost.
'The wife killed the children and the husband murdered the wife.'
'Something like that.'
He's jealous, thought Mullett, jealous of Cassidy's success in the face of his own failures. Well, let's twist the knife a little more. 'And this clears Snell the man you refused to arrest?'
Frost nodded and started patting the layer of papers on his desk to locate his cigarette packet.
'Cassidy got you off the hook with this one, Frost. You should be eternally grateful.'
'I am,' said Frost, lighting up. 'Anything else?'
Mullett frowned. He produced the local paper and dropped it on Frost's desk. He tapped the front page item 'Police Dragging Heels In Search For Little Bobby'. 'Have you seen this?'
Frost picked up the paper. ''Flasher At Pensioners' Tea Party',' he read. He frowned in pretended puzzlement. 'Is he a friend of yours, sir?'
Mullett banged his finger on the correct news item. He knew Frost was just trying to be aggravating. 'That is what I mean, Frost. Police dragging their heels. Not the sort of thing I want to read about my division. So what is the position on the kidnapping?'
Frost rubbed his face wearily. 'After Cordwell's magnanimous offer, we're being flooded out with more sightings and leads from the public who hadn't said a word before the reward was offered. We're following them all through, but I don't expect they will lead anywhere.'
'We can't waste time or money or manpower on false leads,' said Mullett, 'but if it transpires we ignored one that would have led us to the boy…' A typical Mullett instruction making sure he was covered whatever happened.
'And I'm going to have Finch followed,' said Frost.
'Finch? You've gone over every inch of his house, his caravan, his car… you've found nothing.'
'He's our man.' Even as he said it, he had his doubts. Earlier today he was damn sure Younger was the kidnapper. He took a drag at the cigarette. 'He'd better be our man… he's all we've bloody got.'
'And what do you hope to achieve by following him?'
'I'm hoping he'll lead us to the kid.'
'And if he doesn't?'
'Then we're in trouble.'
'You will be in trouble,' said Mullett grimly. 'Make no mistake about it, inspector. You will be in serious trouble.' He made no attempt to suppress his smile of satisfaction as he turned and marched out of the office.
'When am I never in trouble?' sighed Frost, swinging his feet up on the desk again.
Liz Maud led Harold Younger out of the charge room and walked him to the main entrance. He had been charged and released on police bail and was free to return to his shed at the bottom of the garden. He had been warned that if he tried to make trouble with his neighbours his bail would be revoked.
Harold Younger was a toe-rag. He thought he was God's gift to women. He kept calling her sweetheart and in the car on the way to the station had slyly rested his hand on her knee. She had given him a sweet, encouraging smile, then stubbed her cigarette out on the back of his hand. He had sucked the burn and sworn at her, but didn't try anything else.
She ushered him out of the door, then returned to the incident room. Liz was not very happy. Cassidy, the same rank as her in spite of his temporary promotion, was tidying up on a murder investigation, while she was stuck with the petty theft of items from the hospital storeroom.
She found Frost in the incident room, seated at a desk, holding the phone away from his ear while a stream of angry abuse buzzed and crackled into empty air. When the noise stopped, he put the phone back to his ear. 'I appreciate your concern, Mr. Stanfield. The enquiries into the abduction of your daughter are proceeding. I have every hope we will be able to make an early arrest.' More angry buzzing, so he put the phone down on the desk and n't up a cigarette, then when it went quiet, picked the phone up again. 'Got to go now, sir… urgent call.' He hung up
