“I’m busy Mr Warple. Get the money. I’ll call you. By the way; don’t even bova going to the police. Or we’ll shoot him. You do want to see Mollie again, don'tya?” The voice paused, the first time it was giving the old man a chance to think. “You do want your dog back?”
“Yes.” The old man said, wanting to negotiate. But the line was disconnected again.
“If we don’t get the one hundred, he’s going to kill Mollie.”
The old woman gasped, too frightened by the novel prospect.
“He said we must not go to the police.”
“But we have to.” the old woman protested.
“And say what? We don’t even know where they are.” explained the old man.
The old woman was opening the car door to get in. “Well what are you waiting for? Get in. We are going to the police.”
“He said –“
“Never mind what he said. We cannot give in to ransom. We are English.”
The mobile rang; the old man answered immediately.
“Hello.”
“Where are you? What’s going on?”
“I’m going to get the money.” the old man lied.