Lucy went missing on Wednesday

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The Kidnapping                                                                                         Paul Hawkins

Lucy had gone missing on Wednesday. It was now Friday.

When she failed to return home from school, her father, a policeman named John, called all of her friends and neighbours, asking in a panic if they’d seen her. They hadn’t.

She was only 8, she’d never been separated from her mother and father for more than a few days, but even then they had kept in contact somehow, whether by phone or by post. They were very worried about her.

John and Mary, his wife, had been constantly phoning everyone they knew, checking and double-checking if anyone had seen their daughter or if they had any news about her.

As it was, they didn’t have to wait very long for news and it came in the form of a note left tucked under their doormat.

If you wish to see your daughter again, a price of £1,000,000 must be delivered to us in £50 notes. You will be contacted within one week with further instructions.

The note was scruffily formed out of single letters cut out from magazines and newspapers, glued onto a sheet of thick paper.

Mary was the one to find it; she noticed it when she was throwing out a bag of cut grass and garden debris. She grasped it clumsily in her thick gloves and read it. She wept.

John, with an assistant, had tested the note for fingerprints himself, for that was one of his fields as a policeman. The only one he and his colleague could find was a fingerprint of John’s. It must have got there when he had picked it up, his assistant thought. Nothing more was made of it.

***

John wasn’t very wealthy; though he had recently sold a lot of stock he had in some big companies. He was a smart man and could often be found making odds and ends on the stock market, working from home on his laptop. As steady as a rock. That phrase fitted John perfectly - he never took big risks when buying or selling, even if he was positive he could make a lot of money from a deal.

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It didn’t matter now though. He had sold all of his stock suddenly two weeks back. Nobody but his wife and best friend knew why but they wouldn’t tell anyone the reason. “It’s a surprise.” they would say, if anyone enquired.

John’s best friend was a man named Hugh. He was currently unemployed, living in a scruffy, run-down little flat, and was divorced with no children. Everything had gone down hill since his affair with a neighbour two years back. He had lost almost everything to his now ex-wife, and had never recovered from it.

He was a good friend ...

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