Instead, the whispered voice was one she had first heard only a few days ago. ‘Grace,’ Daniel Brinsmead said. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’ ‘No,’ she said, sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. It was 11 a.m. ‘How are you?’ ‘I wondered if you had any spare time this afternoon. I wanted to talk to you about something.’ ‘What?’ ‘The police have released a sketch to the media, someone who’s implicated in kidnapping the commander’s son. I’m ringing you because I know him.’ ‘You should call the police and talk to them,’ Grace said. ‘If you know where to find him, you have to tell them that immediately.’ ‘I haven’t seen him for a number of years. I have a history relating to him. He’s responsible for the way I look now. This is more about my past than your companion’s son.’ ‘You should still talk to the police.’ ‘I would talk to the commander, but he must have other things on his mind right now and I wondered if you might be prepared to be a bridge between us.
