I lit another cigarette and waited, my eyes fixed on the phone opposite me.
Even though I’d been expecting it, the shrill tone of the phone ringing made me jump. I lifted the receiver and listened.
A muffled voice said, “Do exactly what I say and everything will be alright. Twenty thousand in used notes. We’ll tell you where. Involve the police and the lady dies.”
Then the line went dead.
I leant against the wall and slowly finished the cigarette wondering if the lady in question, my wife, was worth twenty thousand pounds.
On balance, I decided she wasn’t.
Written by Mike Jackson
Mike Jackson lives in the UK and enjoys writing short tales, especially Drabbles. Some of his offerings can be found on his blog ‘Stories In Your Pocket’