On the desk between them lay a copy of the kidnapper’s message. The original and the lock of baby hair were with forensics. Establishing if the hair was Evie’s was a priority. There was an outside chance they were dealing with a hoaxer. Christ, Sarah thought, she wouldn’t put it past King to have planted the bloody thing herself. Either way, she’d been wrong about the reporter handing over the goodies. She’d shown up at the station bearing gifts for the boss. Sarah curled a lip: King probably had Greek blood in her veins. ‘Ask the mother what?’ She sounded even more incredulous this time. ‘What’s the kidnapper getting at?’ ‘You tell me, Quinn. Like you should’ve told me King was sniffing round. If you’d taken her call, this wouldn’t have happened.’ He flapped a hand at the photocopy. ‘It’s privileged information, we’d never have let it get out.’ Its content – all three words – were now known to anyone with a TV or PC, and they’d be splashed all over the print media any time soon.
What do You think about A Question Of Despair (2010)?
