‘I don’t trust him one bit. I really don’t!’

‘He freed us, didn’t he?’

‘I know. But I think it’s a trap!’

Harry Riddles sighed. Out of the frying pan into the fire, if Pauline Philbey’s gut reaction was to be believed. And, after all the adventures of the last few weeks, it was clear that she was a shrewd old bird; and one with an interesting backstory. More than interesting: fantastical. The penny had dropped when she got into the dark web with such consummate ease. That was far more than the work of a local archivist, however, digitally minded. It had all come out as they had sat there, tied back-to-back in Clement Rankin’s basement.

At first, Harry Riddles had not believed his beloved when she said she had...

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