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of my calls and texts.
    The countdown on my BlackBerry had reached twenty four hours.
It had been only twenty four hours since I had spilled the beans to
Toby, my boss, but it already seemed like an eternity. I was now
sitting in a conference room with Dee. We sat in silence, each
alone with our thoughts.
    The door to the conference room opened and Toby walked in with
another man. I immediately recognised the second man as Roddy
McDougall, the Dyson Brecht contact at Chartered Equitable Building
Society. Roddy sat and acknowledged me with a nod. Toby broke the
silence.
    “ Miss Conrad. It’s very nice to see you again. This is Roddy
McDougall. He is helping us raise the money for the ransom demand,
in a manner of speaking.”
    Roddy, a chubby redhead who looked out of place in a suit,
spoke directly to me in a Scots accent. “I don’t know what to say,
Josh. This is a crazy situation. I suppose all I can realistically
do is make your life a wee bit simpler by raising the loan
agreement as quickly as possible. To that end I have these papers
prepared. Take your time to read them, if you want, but they’re all
as we discussed yesterday.” Roddy pushed a sheaf of papers across
the table towards me. Toby spoke.
    “ Josh, I’ve asked Terry in Legal to agree the terms of your
loan agreement on your behalf so that we can spend time on finding
a solution that doesn’t ruin you financially.” He paused whilst he
looked at a sheet of paper lying flat on the table in front of
him.
    “ Your flat will be valued at around three hundred and twenty
thousand pounds, which is actually quite generous given the current
housing slump. You will borrow two hundred thousand, repayable over
twenty five years at a rate tracked to one percent over base. It’s
the best we could do.” Toby looked at Roddy for confirmation, and
Roddy nodded and smiled. I appreciated that this was an excellent
deal in the circumstances.
    “ Subject to the valuer’s condition survey confirming the
initial valuation, the cash can be paid to you on Tuesday next
week. Until then you are mine, buddy boy. I own you.” Toby smiled,
and the others in the room joined him as the mood lightened. “With
my two hundred grand partner’s loan account money and your fifty
grand advance against bonus and benefits, you will have the
necessary quarter of a million quid in your account later today.
Just be sure to leave your passport on the way out.” Dee looked
surprised, but he grinned.
    “ Just kidding! Now, how do we deal with Bob, whoever he is?”
Toby looked around the room for ideas. Dee had already explained
that the Police offered little hope of finding Bob, even after the
money had been paid. When the room remained silent, Toby
continued.
    “ OK. I guess it’s down to me. I’ve had a few thoughts. Let me
brainstorm them for a few minutes.” Toby stood up and walked to a
large flip chart on an easel. He picked up a blue marker pen and
began to write. I have watched this brilliant man develop new
strategies on the hoof with just a pen, a whiteboard and his agile
mind hundreds of times. I hoped that Toby’s ingenuity would help us
find the elusive solution to my problem.
    Toby wrote at the top of the first sheet; BOB KNOWS YOUR
FINANCIAL POSITION. He then drew angled lines lower down the page.
At the end of the first line he wrote; HOW? He looked at the rest
of us in the room expectantly. Roddy started the brainstorming
session by suggesting “The Bank”. Toby wrote it down and numbered
it. Dee called out with “Friends and neighbours”. Toby duly wrote
that down and added one of his own, which he numbered three. He
wrote “Employers”. The exercise went on until the list comprised
eight possible ways that Bob could have found out about my
financial position.
    “ OK.” Toby said, as he picked up a red marker pen. “Let’s see
if we can eliminate some of these possibilities.” I stood and
walked to the board, looking at each line intently