A speedy return for Inspector Armstrong (p. 312), who does a lot more nattering than ""thumping"" this time since there's no evidence of a crime. There's nothing but the story of daft Jim Bishop, who wanders into the station one morn, announcing that he's kidnapped Prince Charles and will return the heir apparent safe and sound for a million pounds; otherwise--death in eight hours. Armstrong's quite sure that unemployable, war-tortured Jim just needs some friendly humoring . . . until the Palace reports that they're not quite sure where Charlie is . . . and Jim correctly describes the tie that the Prince was wearing when last seen. A talky, pseudo-psychological disappointment after Armstrong's bristling debut, but briskly professional enough to leave hope for the future.