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“Let me go,” Jack said reasonably, “and we’ll talk about this like adults.”

“Well, I can’t do that now, can I? Not when you said you might rip my head off. Honestly. I was about to let you go. If you’d kept your mouth shut we wouldn’t be in this mess. Now I have to think of an alternative plan.”

She bit her lip as she drummed her long purple nails on the arm of the chair. In the back of his mind Jack knew that one day this would be funny. One day. Not now.

“How about I promise not to harm you and you untie me?”

“Why should I trust you? You were breaking into my house.”

His jaw clenched.

“It’s my house, lady.”

His crazy tenant leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees. She pointed a long fingernail at him.

“See, it’s that attitude that led you into a life of crime. You can’t go around thinking other people’s stuff belongs to you. It’s just...” She cast around for the right word. “Rude,” she said at last.

Jack stared in disbelief at her perfect oval face, with its cat-like green eyes and bow shaped lips, and knew, with certainty, that she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

“I inherited this house,” he said in the voice he used to disarm drugged up teenagers.

“You can’t have, the landlady isn’t dead.”

“You need to read your mail more often.”

He nodded towards the pile of unopened bills stacked inside the front door.

His captor tottered over to the letters and flicked through them. She discarded most of them, but ripped open a cream envelope. Her shoulders slumped. He almost smiled.

“This doesn’t say anything about the new owner, just that he’ll be in touch.”

He smirked.

“Consider this in touch.”

“How do I know it’s you? There’s no name.”

His head was throbbing and it wasn’t just from the blow it had taken.

“Call the lawyer. Ask him the name

.”

She did as she was told and got an answer machine. She left a message before coming back to crouch beside him.

“Look,” she said reasonably. “I can’t let you go without proof, the lawyer isn’t there and there isn’t anyone I can call to stop you from ripping my head off if I free you. Any ideas?”

“The first one that springs to mind is intensive psychiatric treatment,” he said tightly. “You need some serious help.”

Her oval eyes narrowed.

“I guess we wait until the lawyer calls back.”

She stood up on shoes that were so high they were practically stilts.

“Wait,” Jack said. “I have one more idea.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. Don’t do it, he told himself, it’s a stupid idea.