Toby had an address and he knew who the kidnapper was. Now all he had to do was catch him before he snatched his next victim. Charlie Thornton, a ten-year-old from Chelsea, was a marked boy. If Toby didn’t get to him first... well he didn’t want to think what might happen. Fortunately, the house wasn’t far. It would take less than ten minutes at a jog.
Barely able to breathe, he rounded the final corner from Old Church Street into Mulberry Walk. A set of posh townhouses stood in front of him. Their brick facades with bay windows and wrought-iron fences gave the impression of domestic bliss.
Towards the far end of the street was the house he was looking for. It was pretty, laced with snow, but he knew inside something terrible was about to happen. A fir tree peacocked proudly in the front
