Sighing at himself, he slid them into place and read the message.
‘Albert, I just left the police station. They took my statement and asked me endless questions but now that I am on my way to the café, I just remembered something that I think might be important. Can you meet me? I can send a cab to pick you up if you like.’
Albert read the message twice. After the second time through, he looked out of the window and drummed his fingers on the table.
‘Where do you want to meet?’
His response whizzed off into the ether, the reply from Victor beeping onto his phone only a heartbeat later.
‘I’ll send a cab. That will be easier than trying to explain.’
Albert thought some more, skewing his lips to one side and then the other as he tried to decide what to make of it. After a minute, he made a phone call. He was calling Detective Sergeant Craig, but he didn’t get an answer from him. From what he knew, the man was heading to HMP Bedford to re-interview Kate Harris, the woman whose name Albert was supposed to be clearing. Albert didn’t think he was doing very well with that.
Unable to raise the detective, Albert thought perhaps he could find a number for the local station. If he called 999, he would get the dispatch desk many miles away. His moment of hesitation helped him, for his phone rang the next moment.
‘Albert Smith,’ he answered.
The voice at the other end had a slightly bored and barely tolerant tone to it. ‘Ah, Mr Smith. This is Detective Sergeant Craig. I have a missed call from you. I am just about to enter HMP Bedford, is this something quick?’
Albert frowned to himself. ‘No, probably not. I think Victor Harris might have been kidnapped.’
Albert listened to a beat of silence in which he imagined the detective rolling his eyes at the other end. ‘Oh, Mr Smith, and what makes you think that?’
Now Albert had to explain why he was concerned and realised how weak it was going to sound. ‘I just received a text from him.’
‘That doesn’t sound very kidnapped to me,’ DS Craig cut in.
‘He’s never sent me a text before,’ Albert pointed out. ‘More than that though, he wants to send a cab to pick me up. Have you had any taxi’s reported stolen today?’
‘Not that I am aware of,’ sighed the detective, not even trying to hide his impatience.
‘Why would he send a taxi to collect me?’
‘Because you are old, Mr Smith.’
Albert had intended it to be a rhetorical question, but the detective’s rudeness made him bristle. ‘His text message claimed he had already been to the station and given his statement, but I do not believe he has had time for that. We know the man who escaped last night is still in Biggleswade and Victor’s behaviour is strange.’
‘Actually, we know no such thing,’ argued DS Craig. ‘What we know is that the person who forced Eric Simpson into the boot of his car returned the car to Biggleswade. He may not still be here, and he may not be the same person who attacked Victor Harris last night. What is it that you are suggesting anyway? That the same attacker has returned, this time successfully obtaining Victor Harris but is now trying to lure you into a stolen taxi so he can kidnap you too? For what purpose? Are you suddenly a celebrity target worth millions? Someone famous whose family will pay a healthy ransom? I think not, Mr Smith.’
Doing his best to keep his rising anger in check, Albert spoke calmly when he replied. ‘Can you check to see if he has been to the station to make his statement, please?’
For a second, Albert thought the police officer was going to refuse, but with a teenager’s sigh of open annoyance, he asked Albert to wait a moment. Listening to the hold noise, it took less than thirty seconds for the detective to come back onto the line. ‘Mr Smith, the answer is that he has not yet arrived at the station. I am sure he will be along shortly. Now, if you will excuse me, I really don’t have time for anymore wild conspiracy theories. I have a known killer to interview. Good day.’
DS Craig hung up, leaving Albert to stare at his phone. He wasn’t getting any help from the police, but what did that mean? The obvious thing to do was phone Victor instead of sending a message. If he didn’t pick up but sent another text message, then Albert would have his answer. However, as his finger hovered over the button to make the call, he worried that he might tip the kidnapper off if he was right.
‘Why would he want me?’ Albert asked himself, speaking aloud simply to orate his thoughts. Rex poked his head above the table, his tongue lolling out as he panted. Albert scratched his head. ‘Rex, I might be about to get myself into some trouble.’
Rex tilted his head in question, looking at his human and wondering what, exactly, trouble might constitute.
Sucking on his teeth, Albert sent one more text message.
‘It’s a nice day and Rex needs a walk. I’m sure I can get directions if you tell me where I need to go.’
At the other end, Francis said some unrepeatable things and thought about hitting Victor again just to vent his rage. Victory was so close he could feel it. He had the original target; it had been unbelievably easy to lure the baker into the stolen taxi, but the cab’s
