When. Where.
Maybe best not to give the bastard time to plot and plan.
DUTHIE PARK
20 MINUTES
INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW
SEND.
Well, they’d follow soon as Andrew had figured out what they were. But arranging an anonymous ransom drop had to be fairly straightforward – happened all the time in films.
Bound to be websites telling you how to do it, if you knew where to look.
Because Andrew wasn’t an idiot – after what DS Davis did to Natasha Agapova? He was takingzerorisks.
Ding.
MURDERINGBASTARD:
How am I supposed to get my hands on £1,000, in cash, in twenty minutes?
Sorry, mate.
YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE
DUTHIE PARK
20 MINUTES
SEND.
Out in the field, a dark, pointy shape turned into a fox, bounding through the hip-high barley, on its way towards the airport.
It paused, nose up, as if catching a whiff of just how all-conquering and impressive Andrew was.
He toasted the fox with the can of Red Bull, one predator to another.
Still nothing back from Davis.
Off in the distance, a door opened, letting a bass-pounding thump of music out, then clunked shut, leaving nothing but silence behind.
Andrew checked his phone.
Five minutes and counting.
Maybe he’d over-egged it, and twenty minuteswasn’tenough time to get that kind of cash together? Not like the banks were open, was it? And you could only take out a few hundred at a cash machine.
Yeah, this might’ve been a mistake.
Should send Davis another DM, telling him tomorrow would be—
Ding.
MURDERINGBASTARD:
OK.