Having parked his car by a parade of shops beside Wandsworth Common, Ash clipped the lead onto Moss's collar and let him jump out of the back seat. He had deliberated whether to leave him at the cottage, but decided in the end to bring him, mainly because it helped everything to feel more normal: the drive up to London, the unfamiliar territory by the Common, the knowledge that Stacie's life was in danger. So here he was, a man with his dog, going for a walk in the park, with who knows how many plain clothes police officers watching him. He tried not to scrutinise everybody he passed, but it was difficult to do anything else. All credit to Inspector Clark's team, Ash couldn't spot a single soul who looked out of place or who showed any sign of recognising him.

He made his way casually towards the stone footbridge that crossed the large pond near the south-west corner of the Common, pausing occasionally to chuck a stick for Moss to go haring after in a blur of black and white. A quick check of his watch showed him that it was 2:29. Time to take up his position. He whistled, Moss followed, and Ash strode up to the centre point on the bridge, then turned to lean on the parapet facing back the way he'd come.

A slight growl from Moss made him look down to his right, and then behind him at a man who had stopped to check a message on his phone. Ash looked away again, and the man said, "Got the documents?"

Turning round, Ash retorted, "You get them when I see Stacie alive and well and walking towards me."

Through a coarse laugh, the thuggish-looking man scoffed, "Yeah, right," and continued to stare expectantly at Ash.

"I'm not joking," said Ash, deadpan. "Bring her here now."

With a frown and a muttered curse, the phone was produced again and this time used to speak to someone. "He wants to see her...yeah, well, like you said...no, I haven't seen them...will do." To Ash, "Right, you have to show me you've got the stuff as agreed before you see her."

Realising he had pushed that tactic as far as was prudent, Ash drew the document wallet from underneath his leather jacket and then held it out over the edge of the bridge, as if to let it drop into the pond. The man darted forward but the warning expression on Ash's face made him stop.

"Any closer and this lot goes in the water, and you won't have anything to bring to your boss. Can't think he'd be too pleased about that."

Uncertainty clouded the messenger's face, and Ash saw he was in with a chance.

"If you've got Stacie with you, you hand her over to me, then you can have this." A nod of his head indicated the package dangling precariously above the water.

Uttering an angry grunt, the thug once more spoke into his phone. By the change in his tone of voice, Ash could tell that he was speaking to a different person this time, instructing whoever it was to "bring her up to the edge of the bridge, and no nearer". Within a few minutes, he could see a couple approaching: a tall burly man with a shaved head, his arm firmly around his slim, dark-haired female companion. The familiar knot returned to Ash's gut and he restrained himself from knocking the man beside him over the parapet and running to get Stacie.

Thug 2 stopped at the end of the bridge and waited. Ash drew the package under his arm and walked towards them. "You all right, Stace?" he asked, granite-jawed.

"I'll be a hell of a lot better once I'm away from these morons," came her cool reply. No, don't antagonise them! thought Ash, although he was deeply impressed with her nerve. He held out both his hands, one with the package in it, the other for Stacie. Her captor let her go and she ran forward, and from behind Ash, the first man snatched the wallet.

"Hold on!" he barked, unzipping the packet and looking inside. Everything seemed to be as he expected, although how he could have known with such a cursory inspection was unclear. "Right," he ordered, "just stay there. You'll get a text when it's safe to move."

"And if we leave before then?" enquired Ash, his arm now protectively around Stacie.

This question seemed to stump both Thugs. "Er...just wait!" said the first one angrily, and they began to walk away from the bridge at a brisk pace.

"So I suppose we'll just stand here, then," Stacie remarked.

Her abductors were out of sight among the trees and Ash put his other arm around her. "Stay cool," he said quietly. "Was there anyone else with you?"

"No, just The Chuckle Brothers. I swear, it was like watching an idiot comedy duo: 'You fix it!' 'No, you!' 'I said it first!' Geez!"

Ash couldn't help but laugh, and Stacie began to smile. Ash's phone buzzed in his pocket and he answered it. "Yes, inspector..." Stacie's face was a picture of amazement at this. "That's right, heading north. No, she's absolutely fine. Sure. Will do." He hung up. "Now, before you ask, it was me who involved the police, so any flak, I'll take it. We need to stop by your local nick and give our statements – you're officially a kidnap victim, you know."

oooOOOooo

Ash propped his feet up on the coffee table and pointed the remote control at the TV. "Just in time," he said with satisfaction, and Moss leapt up to join him on the sofa.

The newsreader had got through the headlines and was now concentrating on the big story of the evening.

"Police in London have confirmed that they are holding three men on charges of kidnapping, conspiracy to kidnap, and perverting the course of justice. Earlier today, a major police operation saw the safe return of a woman who had been abducted 24 hours earlier from her Surrey home. Charles Stanmore, who owns a building company in the east end of London, was arrested, along with two accomplices, for kidnapping the daughter of a former employee who police now believe was framed by Stanmore for embezzlement.

"Frank Monroe, seen here arriving at court last year for sentencing, is currently serving five years in prison after £850,000 from Stanmore's company was transferred to his personal bank account. Monroe, who was a financial adviser at Leytonstone Building, has always maintained his innocence and the Crown prosecution service has this afternoon issued a statement saying that they will be re-examining his case."

There followed five minutes of speculation about the undisclosed aspects of Stacie's abduction, most of which was utter tosh as far as Ash could tell. "What they don't know, they make up, eh, boy?" he said, patting Moss companionably. "I'll give Stace a ring in a bit, see how she's doing."

Stacie, however, beat him to the punch and called a few moments later.

"I've just got back from the police station!" she gasped, sounding exhausted. "I'm going to order some takeaway – want to come over and have some?" Ash agreed, and they debated over whether they should get Indian or pizza. "Oh, wait, I'll need to ring you back, Ash; someone else is trying to call me."

Ash had decided on a vindaloo and was awaiting Stacie's call to find out if he could pick up their food on the way over. However, forty minutes later he still hadn't heard back from her, so he dialled her number, which turned out to be engaged. This continued for another half hour, when she finally phoned, profoundly apologetic.

"Ash, I'm so sorry! It was my mum...and we had...well, let's just say she's not being terribly supportive at the moment. I think she's feeling the heat a bit, with Dad about to be in the clear. Plus she dropped a couple of hints that her fitting Dad up was Stanmore's idea, like we'd figured – and get this: she was having an affair with him! That's why he wanted Dad out of the way. But then when Dad went to prison Mum realised she couldn't be in a relationship with someone who'd set his up friend so he could have his wife. I spent most of the conversation assuring her that I hadn't even mentioned her name to the police, except as my next of kin. But I don't think she believed me."

"She's probably still freaked out about your kidnapping," soothed Ash. "I bet she'll calm down when you've had a chance to spend some time with her, and explain everything in person." He reckoned that Janice Monroe needed to answer for what she'd done to Frank, but he kept that idea to himself.

"I hope so," said Stacie. "Well, let's forget all that now – what about our takeaway?"

oooOOOooo

Charging around on the hill overlooking the farm, Moss was following his usual pattern of running wide circles around Ash as he walked up towards the cluster of trees at the top of the rise. The wind blew first in one direction, then the other, meaning that it was almost a minute before Ash could hear the sound of a car horn far below. He turned and saw a dark blue Ford Mondeo. With a shrill call to Moss, he started back down to the house and found himself being greeted by Marion Clark; not, he noted, in her uniform.

"Inspector! This is quite a surprise. Come inside," he invited, as Clark patted Moss's enquiring nose.

"I wanted to pay you a visit and make sure everything was in order," explained the policewoman as she settled into the armchair opposite Ash's.

He looked stunned. "You did a hundred-and-twenty mile drive just to find out if I was all right? I hope you're claiming travelling expenses," he said, half-jokingly.

Clark laughed and went on, "Miss Monroe has assured me that things have settled down for her now that her father is at liberty once more. I simply wanted to tie up all the loose ends."

"Not the first time I've been described as a loose end," replied Ash, "and not the worst thing I've ever been called. But Stacie's been enjoying having her dad around again. Can't say the same for her mum, mind you." He took a sip of his tea and looked over at the inspector.

"It's ironic, isn't it," she said, "that while Charlie Stanmore had Brendan Lawrence half-killed and Stacie abducted in order to cover up his framing Frank Monroe, those things actually had the opposite effect: to expose what he'd done, and set Monroe free."

Not the way I'd have planned for it to happen, thought Ash, but who am I to argue with fate? Things had turned out more or less the way Stacie had wanted them to, although she too realised that it had, in the end, been out of their hands. And her mum might still be facing charges, along with Stanmore, for setting up Frank.

"I also wanted to bring you something..." Inspector Clark leaned down to the large handbag on the floor beside her and drew out a manila folder, stuffed with papers. "You may not be aware that for much of my police career I worked at Scotland Yard. It's only in the last two years that I've been back on the ground at a local station, and I must say it's been an enjoyable experience. However, I digress...this" - she placed a palm on the folder sitting on her knee - "is your police file."

Ash's eyes widened in surprise and the inspector smiled at his reaction.

"Initially I didn't recognise you, or Miss Monroe, but it was after the Stanmore business was all over that I realised that the names Morgan and Monroe together rang a bell with me. So I found a reason to visit old colleagues at the Yard, and was able to do a bit of digging in the archives, which is where I found your file – and of course, Stacie is mentioned here too, as are the names of several well-known confidence tricksters. Your skill and familiarity with surveillance equipment and techniques had intrigued me, so when I read here of your...shall we say, 'activities', I realised where you had come by these talents. But I also noticed that there has been no record of you having any contact with the police for a good number of years now..."

If only she knew, thought Ash. If there was a demand for bent coppers, I could start an agency.

"...and I thought, why should you have to end up here, hiding out in the wilds of Wales, to keep out of the way of the law?"

Ash held up his hand at this question. "That's not why I'm here," he said firmly, shaking his head. "One, this farmhouse was inherited from a relative and two, I'm retired, pure and simple. I just gave up doing what I did because it was time. End of story."

Her head to one side, Clark nodded slowly. "I see. I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. You won't want this, then." She started to put the file back in her bag.

Ash leaned forward. "I'm sorry, that sounded ungrateful. I didn't mean that I wasn't interested in having a look at the file, or that I didn't appreciate you going to the trouble of finding it and bringing it all the way up here to show me."

"'Having a look' at it?" repeated Clark. She handed the folder to him. "I brought it for you to keep. I've got one for Stacie, too – don't tell her, though, I want it to be a surprise when I catch up with her later this week."

Doubly stunned now, Ash sat, the file unopened on his lap. "You could get in a lot of trouble, lady," he said, his voice deepening with gratitude.

"That's not to say there's no record of you in the police computers," continued the inspector. "There will still be basic information – your photograph, known addresses and associates, convictions – but not the depth and breadth of detail that's in the hard copy." She picked up her handbag and got to her feet. "Well, I must be off. I have friends in Oswestry who are expecting me."

Ash showed her to the door, still somewhat dazed by her visit. He shook her hand and thanked her again, and she was gone.

He was, therefore, not at all surprised to receive a phone call from Stacie on the following Friday.

"Ash, I've just had a visit from Inspector Clark, and she tells me she's been to see you, too. So I guess you know what I'm calling about."

"Well, unless she offered to make you an honorary special constable, I probably do, yeah."

"Is she for real? I mean, did you get the impression that maybe she wants to hold this over us, in return for a favour?"

This had occurred to Ash, too. He had been pondering the possible reasons for Clark's visit from the minute he'd set eyes on her that day. After all, the police officers he and Stacie had encountered over the last several years had been anything but on the level. "No, I don't think that's what she's about. Remember what Albert always says: 'It takes a con man to know a con man'. I reckon we'd have sussed her if she wasn't the real deal."

There was a pause and then Stacie said, "She was very impressed with what she called your 'cool head' under pressure." Ash could hear the amusement in Stacie's voice as she continued, "I think she took a bit of a shine to you, Ash. And, well, she's given us a chance to start with almost a clean slate – or the next best thing."

He murmured in agreement, and she went on, "So when are you and Moss coming to visit? I bet he misses me!"

Chuckling, Ash replied, "Yeah, he's pining away here." Then, in a more serious tone, he said, "Me too, Stace. Tell you what, when you've got everything sorted with your dad, you should come up here and take some time out from refereeing your parents."

"You have no idea how near the mark that is. Seriously, I'm getting just a little tired of all the sniping and resentment. Now Dad's out of prison, he seems to have conveniently forgotten just how that happened. He's got this huge chip on his shoulder about how everyone's out to get him - including Mum, of course."

"Well, you can understand that," began Ash, prompting Stacie to exclaim, "If he would only show a little gratitude, or even just pretend to be interested in what we went through to get him out! He hasn't mentioned the kidnapping, although he's well aware of it – his solicitor made sure he knew what was going on – you'd think he'd sprung himself single-handed, the way he bangs on. And don't get me started about Mum. I haven't spoken to her since...well, since just after the kidnapping, actually. She hasn't rung or made any attempt to get in touch, despite me leaving dozens of messages for her. And she's never been at home when I've popped round."

Ash could practically feel Stacie seething down the phone. "Stace, just get on a train and come. There's one leaving from Euston tomorrow lunchtime. Three hours, and you can be up here for 24-hour on-demand peace and quiet." He could tell she was wavering, and delivered the killer punch: "Moss and I'll meet you at Welshpool station."

Sounding happy and relieved, Stacie said, "That sounds fantastic. Are you sure, Ash? I don't want to impose..."

Ash snorted. "This is me you're talking to. Just get yourself up to Euston tomorrow." He added, but not in the slightest as an afterthought, "And get a one-way ticket."