Mike Dixon

t was perhaps a heightened state of anxiety that
I aroused her suspicions. Normally, Kirstin would have
taken no notice of the red van parked beside the road but
her nerves were on edge and she took in every detail from
the spotlight on the roof to the faces watching her as she
drove past.
It was a stake-out!
Forty years in counter-intelligence had honed her in-
stincts to perfection. The men in the van might think they
were acting naturally. Their expressions said otherwise.
They were psyched up – ready for action.
She couldn‟t go home. They had the house under surveil-
lance. Better to go next door. She was minding the house
for the neighbors while they were on holidays. She swung
into the driveway, unlocked the front door and bolted it behind
her. There was a phone in the hallway. She fumbled for
it in the dark and dialed Humphrey‟s mobile.
„Is that you, Mother?‟
He answered immediately.
„Have you found her, Humphrey?‟
„No!‟ He sounded on the verge of
tears. „I went round there. Helen said
a red van had stopped and a man in a
uniform had spoken to Lizzie. She said
Lizzie got into the van with him. I
tried to phone you … then the car
broke down.‟
Headlights appeared in the driveway.
„Humphrey!‟ Kirstin‟s voice rose an octave. „The red van‟s
here. They‟re after me. Call the police. Tell them to come
straight round.‟
A figure was silhouetted in the doorway.