I was the first to speak, and although I was addressing the policemen I was looking straight into Hickstead’s eyes. The man was brimming with confidence.

“Inspector, I have listened carefully to what you have suggested, and it is my view that we should....” I hesitated. “We should proceed on all charges, and seek the maximum penalty the court could impose.”

Alan Parsons leaned over to Hickstead, whose face was now blank, and whispered none too quietly.

“Bloody hell, Arthur, I could see this coming a mile off. Why couldn’t you? Why on earth would they agree?”

Don Fisher stepped forward. Looking at Hickstead, he said, “Inspector, I agree with Mr Hammond. Criminals should have to face the full consequences of their actions, especially when they are scum eating bottom feeders.”

“Inspector, really!” Parsons protested. “Get these men out of the room at once.” We started to leave, and HIckstead stood up from his chair, veins bulging on his neck and forehead.

“You realise what this means,” he yelled angrily in our direction. We continued walking and closed the door behind us.

***

“What does it mean, Lord Hickstead?” Boniface asked. Parsons looked bemused, as if everyone in the room was in on a joke except him.

“Figure of speech, that’s all,” Hickstead replied in a surly tone.

“One of the reasons we had such a busy weekend is that Lavender Fisher and Delia Conrad, Mr Hammond’s girlfriend, were kidnapped on Saturday.” Boniface looked at Hickstead, who maintained his poker face.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that my client is in any way involved in that kidnapping? It’s simply absurd!” He said the words, but Boniface could see fear in the lawyer’s eyes.

“We don’t make any accusations, Alan, but if you watch this perhaps you could tell me what we are meant to think.” He clicked the remote control and they all turned to watch the monitor.

A masked man appeared on the screen, threatening that the hostages would die unless an agreement was reached with Lord Hickstead by this evening. The camera then showed Lavender and Dee chained to the table. Boniface switched it off.

“My God!” Alan Parsons blurted out, but Hickstead remained resolute.

“I need some time with my client,” the lawyer said. “I want all cameras and sound off. Understood?”

“Of course,” Coombes agreed reasonably.

***

“Arthur, what have you got yourself involved in?” Parsons demanded, clearly flustered.

“One of my less straitlaced friends may have become a little, shall we say, overenthusiastic in an effort to protect me. But you heard the threat the same as I did; unless there is an agreement, the women die. I suggest we concentrate on reaching an agreement so that these young women can be returned safely to their families.” Lord Hickstead did not look at his lawyer once during the exchange.

“Arthur, I don’t see how we can expect an agreement when the people involved are insistent that you be prosecuted to the fullness of the law.”

This time Hickstead looked into the eyes of his lawyer as he spoke. There was menace in his voice, and his face was unreadable.

“Alan, that is a negotiating position. We hold fast and call their bluff. They will come around. We’ve only just started, and you want to throw the towel in already.”

“That video clip is extraordinarily prejudicial,” Parsons pointed out. “That could send you to prison for life if it was played to a jury.”

“It never will be, Alan, trust me. It will be part of the bargaining that will result in an agreement, and which will free the two women.”

“And if we don’t get an agreement, Arthur, what then?”

“Then I expect the women will die. That is what the video said. After all, I have no control over those men.”

Parsons stared at him wide eyed. “That is a blatant lie! How would they find out we’d got a deal, unless you tell them? You must be able to contact them.” The lawyer sat back, waiting for the peer to concede the point.

“At last, Alan, you’re earning your fee. You asked a question I hadn’t considered. I think I must say that I have been told to send an email to an anonymous email address. That sounds plausible. At least plausible enough to get across to those two morons that their loved ones might die just so they can have the satisfaction of seeing me being sent to an open prison for a couple of years. We’ve wasted enough time. Get them back in.”

Alan Parsons sighed. He was beginning to wonder whether absolutely everyone deserved the best defence they could get.

***

The video in our room clicked back on. The client conference had obviously concluded. The two policemen followed the protocols again, naming the room occupants and stating the time.

Alan Parsons then spoke up. “Lord Hickstead denies any involvement in the kidnapping. He was unaware of the abduction until he saw that clip of video. He does acknowledge, however, that there is a possibility that a misguided friend may have acted in what they thought was his best interests. Now, having expressed his outrage at what has been done in his name, he is even more eager to reach a deal so that the women can be returned safely.”

“Thank you, Mr Parsons,” Boniface replied. “If that turned out to be true, then it would be very public spirited of his Lordship to accept punishment just to save the life of two women he does not know. Albeit he has been in possession of some extremely explicit and unpleasant pictures of one of them.” He paused before turning his gaze to Hickstead. “But, of course, everyone sitting around this table knows that this is all crap. Your client is up to his neck in blackmail, kidnapping and armed robbery. He may even be responsible for one or more deaths. How am I going to persuade the CPS to go for any sort of deal in those circumstances?”

Hickstead smiled nastily. “Because we have a common goal. I want a deal, and you want the hostages back. This is a win-win scenario. If the deal doesn’t happen, it becomes a lose-lose scenario, where two women die unnecessarily and I take my chances with a jury.”

Coombes stepped in, for the first time playing the good cop. “Lord Hickstead, you may have crossed some lines but I cannot believe that you would let two women die just because you had to face a trial for a blackmail plot that you yourself hatched.”

“Just watch me!” Hickstead snapped.

“Arthur, be quiet! Let me do the talking,” Parsons advised him quickly. “This isn’t helping your cause one iota.” Hickstead fell silent, and the lawyer sighed.

“Might we have some drinks brought in? It might cool things down a little.”

“Of course. I’ll see to it.” Boniface excused himself, and the tape was stopped. A minute later he was in our room, with an audacious plan that he had cooked up with DCI Coombes during the break. He told us what he had in mind.

“Is that legal? Are you allowed to do that? It seems rather underhand,” I said.

“It’s borderline, but hey, when DCI Coombes joined the force they were still slapping suspects with wet towels.” Boniface smiled. “Timing is everything, remember.” The plan was already underway.

***

Coombes was chatting amiably to Alan Parsons, recalling previous cases where they had faced one another. Boniface entered, and set down a tray of soft drinks and chilled water, both still and sparkling. There were also the ubiquitous biscuits that were so common in meetings. The chocolate ones and the cream filled ones would be consumed, but the Rich Tea would be passed over for the next meeting to ignore, as usual.

I looked at my watch. Any second now, I thought, and a moment later there was a tap on the interview room door.

“Enter,” Boniface shouted, without looking up.

A young girl entered the room. She was smartly attired in a modest burgundy dress, trimmed with lace. She was wearing black tights and was wearing smart black shoes with a low heel. Her hair was tied back to show that her face was lightly made up.