Harry Riddles was frightened. Why did he have to exchange the warmth and security of the safe house, all because Pauline Philbey had this madcap idea that she could solve the murders at Templeton Towers in one fell swoop? Or so she had determined. Riddles looked out of the car window. Now they were off the main road from Hartley to Holme Hill there was little traffic. But then why would there be at midnight, especially when the temperature had now fallen below zero on the car’s dial? Classic FM played quietly in the background. Christmas carols! How he hated them, especially since his wife had died. He took exception to all that saccharine stuff by John Rutter. Messiah was the only thing worth listening to at this time of year. John McGraw had conducted an especially fine performance in Hartley To...

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