He sees his new found wealth as a means of fulfilling what he has only previously dreamed of. He describes the kidnap as a series of coincidences and yet later says he 'couldn't have hoped for anything better'. Such contradictions should arouse suspicion, create intrigue, paint a darker, more dangerous side to Frederick, the problem is it doesn't.

Daniel Portman's Frederick is just too polite and, well, nice. He's romantic, coy and naive and it is only at the very end that you see a different side to him, a side that hints at something darker and dangerous but by then it really is too late. And for her part, Lily Loveless's Miranda just never seem scared enough considering the situation she is in.

The exchanges between Frederick and Miranda examine class divide. Frederick exposes her snobbishness while he has a working class chip on his shoulder. The class grievance is more about status and social mobility, rather than wealth, which drags the play back to the 1960s which is when the novel was written.

On paper The Collector has all the makings of great psychological thriller but it is the venue that proves the more atmospheric which is a real shame. It is two and a half hours including an interval and is at The Vaults until 28 August. I'm giving it three stars.