The Dirty Dozen

Chapter Five

Cam was outside the bank, speaking to MP on the car radio and making notes as Kingston returned to the vehicle.

‘Can you give me the location again, Central 888, over?’

‘It’s Edgar House off Blake Hall Road. The garages are at the rear of it.’

‘Thanks, MP. DI Kingston is with me now, so I’ll update him.’

Cam replaced the radio mike on its clip.

Kingston heard the last bit of the radio conversation and looked pleased.

‘Have they found the Cortina?’

Cam handed him the pocket notebook.

‘Possibly. The fire brigade got called out to a garage on fire at Edgar House, which they’re still dousing down. They found a vehicle inside it on fire, which they think might be a Mark 4 Cortina.’

‘Any index?’

‘I asked, but apparently the number plates have melted.’

‘Do we know who owns the garage?’

‘Not yet. The location is just over a mile away and there’s a uniform officer on scene who spoke to the fire brigade and radioed it in. Shall I get MP to tell him to start making enquiries re the garage owner?’

Kingston shook his head. ‘No, go back to Woodville Road, then take Dabs and Tennison to Edgar House. He can examine the burnt Cortina while she organizes the house-to-house enquiries about the garage. Call in uniform assistance and tell Tennison she’s in charge. I also want to know if any of the residents saw anyone coming or going from the garage, not just today but in the last two weeks.’

‘She’s just started on the squad, Guv. I can run the H to H if you—’

‘She’s a bloody DS and worked on murders, so she should be capable of supervising house-to-house.’

‘There’s over a hundred flats there, so it might take a few hours to—’

Kingston was becoming irritated. ‘You can help Tennison, but I want it done today. Me and the Colonel will get a lift back to the Rigg with Teflon and his crew in 887.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’m calling an office meeting for three. Bring Tennison and Dabs back with you, as I want everyone on the team there.’

‘We might get a tip-off about who was responsible,’ Cam suggested, trying to cheer Kingston up.

‘In my opinion these guys are professionals, and from the way they operate, a tip-off seems about as likely as me winning the pools.’

Two uniform officers were helping Dabs and Jane search the rubble-strewn ground where the police car had crashed into the house, looking for any bullets that might have become dislodged from the engine block on impact. Jane felt quite nervous as some of the bricks were still hanging precariously from the building and one fell quite close to her. After twenty minutes of searching, Dabs looked up at Jane and the two officers.

‘I think that’s the best we can do for now. We recovered two bullets earlier and I’m reasonably sure we’ll find a third somewhere in the engine compartment when we examine the car at the lab.’

‘Do you want me to check across the junction in Grove Road to see if the bullet hit anything there?’ she asked as she brushed the brick dust from her clothes.

‘I wouldn’t worry — it would be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack as it could have gone anywhere.’

As Juliet 1 was taken away on the low-loader, Cam pulled up and told them about the burnt-out Cortina and the house-to-house enquiries Kingston wanted done at Edgar House.

‘As a DS I’ve overseen house-to-house in murder investigations, so I’m happy to organize it.’

Cam smiled. ‘It’s OK, Kingston asked me to organize it while you and Dabs deal with the Cortina.’

Jane was disappointed. ‘Fine. If you need any advice or help, then please just ask.’

‘Thanks, but I know how to do house-to-house... Sarge,’ he replied.

Jane thought his attitude was rather surly considering she was just trying to be helpful. She also wondered from the way he addressed her if the Colonel had mentioned her objection to being called ‘Treacle’ instead of Sergeant. As she got in the car with Dabs, Cam turned on the siren and blue light before pulling out at speed. This time she was prepared for the sudden acceleration and braced herself with both hands firmly on the passenger side of the dashboard.

Traveling to the scene, they received a radio call that the garage the Cortina was found in was number 29, but they hadn’t yet located the owner. As the car turned into Blake Hall Road they could see a plume of grey smoke rising above the flats and a large London Fire Brigade engine blocking the entrance route to the garages, so Cam parked as near as he could. Edgar House consisted of 128 duplex flats in three two-storey blocks that were built, and joined together, in a Y shape. Jane initially thought Edgar House would be council flats, but on seeing the well-maintained communal gardens and how neat and tidy the estate was, she wondered if it was a private estate.

As Jane, Cam and Dabs got out of the squad car, a uniform van pulled up behind them and a sergeant and five PCs got out. The sergeant walked straight up to Cam.

‘Are you from the Flying Squad?’ he asked, and Cam nodded. ‘The duty inspector told us you needed some assistance with house-to-house enquiries regarding the armed robbery at Barclays. Will someone be briefing us on what needs to be done?’

‘Yes, I will. DI Kingston asked me to sort it out for him as he’s still at the bank.’

Jane was getting fed up with Cam’s attitude and thought he should have had the decency to introduce her and Dabs.

‘I’m WDS Tennison and this is Dave Morgan, our senior SOCO on the squad—’

Cam cut in, ‘They’ll be doing the forensic work on the burnt-out motor. DI Kingston wants enquiries made at all the flats to find out who owns the garage, and to see if any residents noticed any suspicious activity around the garage the car was found in during the last two weeks.’

‘No problem, I’ll let my team know.’ The sergeant started to walk off.

‘It might help to see how many garages there are first and if they have corresponding numbers to a flat,’ Jane remarked.

Cam looked flustered. ‘I was just going to do that’

Jane hadn’t finished. ‘Have you got any house-to-house forms for the sergeant and his officers to fill in?’

‘There should be some in a box in the boot of the car,’ Cam muttered.

He went to the boot, opened it and rummaged through the box, which contained plenty of statement forms but no house-to-house ones.

‘There don’t appear to be any left,’ he said, red-faced.

Jane moved over to Cam’s side and spoke quietly.

‘Have you led a house-to-house enquiry team before?’

‘I know what I’m doing — someone obviously forgot to restock the box with them,’ he whispered.

‘I take it that would normally be the driver of the car’s responsibility?’ she asked, but he didn’t reply. ‘I thought as much.’ She turned to the sergeant. ‘Would you mind contacting your station and asking if someone could kindly drop off some house-to-house forms, as we seem to have used them all in Woodville Road. Can you also ask for some copies of the Edgar House electoral register to be printed off for each officer, then they can check the residents’ names against the register.’

The sergeant contacted the station on the radio and the operator told him they’d get the forms and copies of the register sent down right away. When he finished Jane continued.

‘If any residents did see anyone acting suspiciously on the estate, or near the garages, today or recently, we will need a detailed description of what they saw and the person or persons they saw. Please notify me right away in case urgent follow-up action is needed — the same goes for the owner of the garage when you identify them. If there are any flats where you get no reply, then you still need to fill in a pro forma to that effect and leave a note asking them to contact us at the Flying Squad office — ADC Murray will give you the squad details. When you’ve finished, give him the completed forms and we’ll go through them later.’

The sergeant was confused. ‘I thought you were with forensics?’

‘No, I’m a WDS on the Flying Squad,’ she replied firmly.

‘Really?’

The sergeant looked surprised, as did his uniform colleagues next to him. Jane looked around, then leaned closer, as if wanting to speak to him in confidence. The sergeant leaned forward, but she spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

‘Keep it to yourself, but I’m actually making it up about being on the Flying Squad just to shock every male officer I come across — and so far, it’s working a treat.’

She turned sharply, stepped over the fire engine hosepipes, and strode off towards the garages, followed by Dabs.

‘Is she always so touchy?’ the sergeant asked Cam.

‘It’s her first day on the squad so she likes to think she’s “the big cheese”.’

‘She seems to know how house-to-house should be done,’ the sergeant remarked.

Cam shrugged. ‘There’s nothing difficult about house-to-house. Truth is she hasn’t a clue about how we work on the squad.’

‘You reckon she’ll last long?’

‘Doubt it. She’s already pissed off the Governor.’

At the far end of the flats there were thirty numbered brick-built and asbestos-roofed garages in two rows of fifteen facing each other. The burnt-out garage 29 was at the far end of the row, and five fire brigade officers were present. Two firemen were still hosing down the roof and the inside of the garage, while one was working on the Cortina, which had been winched out onto the concrete driveway by a red fire brigade Land Rover. A cloud of steam rose from the car as the cold water hit the hot metal, and the acrid smell of burnt rubber from the tires filled the air.

Jane approached a young uniform PC, who was encouraging some residents who had gathered to return to their flats as the smoke and burnt tire fumes were not good for their lungs. Jane introduced herself and he told her what had happened so far and gave her the details of the occupant who had made the original 999 call to the fire brigade.

‘He was going to go out in his car, which is parked in a garage at the opposite end, and said he saw smoke coming out of garage 29, so he ran back to his flat and dialed 999. I spoke to him and asked if he saw anyone in or around any of the garages before the fire, but he said he didn’t. A few residents were coming out to see what was going on and I asked them to return to their flats for their own safety. Also, knowing you’d probably want to do house-to-house, I thought it was best they were indoors.’

‘You’ve done a good job. Are the properties council-owned flats?’ she asked.

‘No, they belong to a housing association who rent them out to the tenants, most of whom are forty-plus. The flats and grounds are well maintained, and the majority of the residents are friendly and pro-police — you always get a cup of tea and a biscuit when you walk round the estate.’

‘Sounds like crime is a rare event round here?’

‘Pretty much. Problems only occur when the little buggers from the estate down the road come up here causing trouble. There’s the occasional burglary and criminal damage but that’s about it.’

‘Would you mind manning the scene while SOCO Morgan and I deal with the forensic examinations?’

‘Not at all. If you need a hand I’m more than happy to help out.’

Jane thanked him and walked over to one of the fire brigade officers who, unlike the others, had two black bands on his yellow helmet and was giving orders to his colleagues. She showed him her warrant card.

‘I’m WDS Tennison and this is Senior SOCO Morgan. We’re investigating a bank robbery and believe the burnt-out Cortina might have been used as a getaway car.’

‘I thought the Flying Squad dealt with bank robberies?’

She frowned. ‘We do and that’s why I’m here. Are you the senior brigade officer in attendance?’

‘Yes, I’m the duty crew manager. I’d say the car was deliberately set alight as the smell of petrol was strong when we ripped the garage door off with the winch. It’s fortunate the garages are brick-built with asbestos roofs otherwise the fire could have spread quickly along the whole row.’

‘I’m surprised the petrol tank didn’t explode,’ Jane remarked.

The crew manager grinned. ‘It’s extremely rare for that to happen, other than in the movies. As you can see the petrol cap’s still in place, which suggests your bank robbers wanted time to get away without attracting attention from a petrol tank explosion.’

‘They probably had a changeover car hidden in the garage,’ Dabs added.

The crew manager said the car would need hosing down for a few more minutes, then it should be cool enough for SOCO Morgan to examine. Jane looked inside the garage, but it was now just a wet, sooty shell with nothing in it other than a large pool of black water. The interior of the car was so badly damaged, that just the bare metal frames and springs of the seats were left, and both number plates had been destroyed. Dabs took some photographs of the car and pointed to the back footwell.

‘From the shape of it and small remnants of red paint, I’d say that burnt metal object is a petrol can.’

‘Are you going to get the car towed to the lab for examination?’ Jane asked.

‘I’d like to do it here, if possible, then have the vehicle taken to one of our car pounds for closer examination if it’s needed. They get a bit touchy about burnt-out cars being taken up to the lab as they make such a mess.’ He turned to the crew manager. ‘Could you open the bonnet and boot for us, please?’

The crew manager used the hooked end of his fireman’s axe to force the boot open. Inside they could see the congealed remnants of badly burnt clothing, which they agreed were probably what was left of the outfits the robbers wore.

‘They’ll sort out what’s what and take fiber samples at the lab,’ Dabs said as Jane held open an exhibits bag for him to put the bits of burnt clothing in.

The crew manager was having difficulty prising the bonnet open with his axe and asked one of his colleagues to assist him. As Jane watched them, she suspected the car was probably stolen and knew that identifying the owner would be an important part of the investigation. She recalled her attachment to Traffic Division, near the end of her uniform probation, and learning how a small metal plate riveted to the chassis under the bonnet contained unique details about the car and its origin, which could be used to identify the registration and the owner.

‘You know much about chassis plates, Dabs?’

‘A bit, but don’t ask me what all the numbers and letters on them mean.’

‘We could get a traffic officer to examine it here and now,’ she suggested.

Dabs nodded. ‘Chassis plates are stamped metal and pretty resilient to fire.’

The crew manager and his colleague finally managed to open the bonnet and used the prop to hold it up. The engine compartment was badly burnt, with heat-buckled metal parts, molten plastic and burnt wires. Dabs leaned forward and pointed to the fire-damaged chassis plate, which was barely readable.

‘On second thoughts, it’s probably best I remove the plate and send it to the lab for examination.’

Jane knew that would take even more time for a result.

‘A traffic officer might be able to give us something positive here and now... Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

Dabs agreed and asked the uniform PC guarding the scene to contact a traffic vehicle examination unit and ask them to attend Edgar House. Jane thought about the scene at Woodville Road.

‘Will the car’s door sills have been damaged by the fire?’ she asked the crew manager.

‘Not if the seal between the sill and the door is tight enough.’

‘Will it be all right to open the car doors now?’

He held up his right hand. ‘I’ve got heavy-duty gloves on, so best I do it in case the handle’s still a bit hot. I’ll retrieve the burnt petrol can for you as well.’

‘Thanks. Could you open the front passenger door first, please?’

‘What’s the interest in the door sills, Sarge?’ Dabs asked as the crew manager opened the passenger door.

‘It’s to do with the blood we found on Woodville Road.’

She stepped forward to get a closer look at the sill, as did Dabs, who now realized what she was hoping to find. Jane smiled as she pointed to two drops of blood on the sill.

‘A young witness called Abby said the man who shot at the police car got out of the front passenger seat and back in it when the car left. I think the blood drops on the sill and in Woodville Road might be from an injury he sustained.’

Dabs was impressed with her thought process.

‘I’ll bet you’re right, Jane — to be honest I hadn’t thought about checking the sill. Sorry, I meant to say Sarge.’

‘It’s OK to call me Jane when we’re in a one-to-one situation, but obviously not in front of the team.’

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but you might have a problem there... No one calls Stanley “Sarge”, and the DI and DCI are both referred to as “Guv”. In fact, DI Kingston doesn’t mind you calling him Stu or Stewart, off duty.’

‘I don’t have a problem with Christian names off duty, but I think you should always show respect for rank at work. I’ve even told DC Gorman I expect to be addressed as Sarge when I’m on duty.’

Dabs winced. ‘And how did the Colonel take that?’

‘He didn’t say anything, but he seemed all right about it.’

Dabs wanted to give Jane some words of advice about how different things were on the Flying Squad compared to a normal CID office, but he decided it was best to let her find out for herself. He changed the subject and said he’d take swabs of the blood on the sill, then get it tested at the lab against the blood at the Woodville Road scene to see if the samples were the same blood group. The crew manager retrieved the burnt can from the back seat, sniffed the inside and said it smelt of petrol, then handed it to Dabs, who put it in a large nylon exhibits bag to prevent the evaporation of any fluid left inside it.

Jane entered the details of the can and burnt clothing in the exhibits book while Dabs photographed the burnt-out garage. She looked up and saw a traffic patrol PC walking towards her.

‘I’m PC Turner from the vehicle examination unit. A DS Tennison from the Flying Squad wants us to examine a car. Is he about?’

Jane sighed as she raised her eyebrows.

‘You’re talking to him,’ she replied tersely.

Turner looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I was expecting—’

‘I know — a man. You’re not the first to be surprised by me today.’

‘How can I help you, Sarge?’

She told him about the bank robbery and the discovery of the burnt-out car.

‘It’s possible the Cortina is stolen, and the registration plates were copied from a similar make and model. The chassis plate has burn damage, but I’d appreciate it if you’d have a look at it and see if you can glean any info from it.’

‘No problem.’

He walked over to the car, followed by Jane, and looked in the engine compartment.

‘A bit buckled and charred,’ Turner observed, and rubbed his finger on the plate, removing some of the soot. ‘I’ve got chemicals in the car for cleaning off burn damage. If it’s all right with you I’d like to remove the plate, because the details are stamped in the underside like a mirror image and often less damaged in arson cases.’

Jane could sense his enthusiasm as he spoke.

‘Fine by me, PC Turner. You’re the vehicle expert so do whatever you feel will get the best results.’

‘I’ll go fetch my equipment,’ he said and walked off at a brisk pace.

Having finished updating the exhibits book, Jane decided to speak to Cam Murray and ask how the house-to-house enquiries were going. She could see the uniform sergeant and some of the PCs speaking to people on their doorsteps but there was no sign of Murray. She walked over to the sergeant when he’d finished speaking to the resident.

‘How’s the house-to-house going?’ she asked.

‘No reply at a lot of the flats — so they’re probably residents who work during the day. I’ll arrange for some of the late turn officers to attend the no replies this evening.’

‘Anything of interest so far regarding the owner of garage twenty-nine?’ she asked, hoping to hear something positive.

‘The garage numbers don’t directly relate to a flat number and you pay extra to rent one. My officers have got details of some of the garage owners, but not twenty-nine so far.’

‘Is there not a resident caretaker?’

‘Yes, but he’s on holiday. I spoke to the relief caretaker — he doesn’t know who uses what garage. He also said some of them are vacant and left open all the time to avoid break-in damage.’

‘When will the regular caretaker be back?’

‘Next week. I also spoke to a lady who’s sixty-two and lives at flat 14 Edgar House. She’d been out shopping and got off at the bus stop in Blake Hall Road. From her timing I’d estimate it wasn’t long after the bank robbery occurred. She saw two men walking towards Felstead Road and one was carrying a large black duffle bag in his right hand. They caught her attention because the duffle bag was like the one she bought her grandson at Christmas.’

‘Any description of the men?’

‘Not really, she was on the opposite side of the road and only saw them from behind. She thought they were about five feet eight to five feet ten in height, one was dark-haired, the other lighter colored. Both were smartly dressed in casual clothes and she thinks one of them was smoking a cigar.’

‘Which one?’

‘She didn’t know.’

‘Then what made her think it was a cigar?’

‘I didn’t ask, but I guess from the smell.’

Jane felt he could have gone into more detail about the clothing and the cigar with the witness, but didn’t want to be critical as she knew the woman could be interviewed again.

‘She didn’t say they were acting suspiciously or looked nervous,’ he remarked.

‘Where’s Felstead Road?’ Jane asked, suspecting the men may have been involved and changed clothes.

‘Left out of Edgar House, then first left again.’

‘When you’ve finished at Edgar could you make enquiries in Felstead Road to see if anyone saw two men, or one carrying a black duffle bag?’

The sergeant looked at his watch. ‘Well, my lads are all early shift and off duty at two, but if you’re prepared to authorize some overtime we could...’

‘Three hours max, that’s all — get what you can done and hand the rest over to the late shift.’

‘You’ve also got Selsdon Road, which is off Blake Hall and directly opposite Felstead. The two men could have crossed the road before they got to Felstead—’

‘If you get nothing of use at Felstead then do Selsdon as well. Have you seen ADC Murray?’

‘Last time I saw him he went into the ground floor flat at the far end of the block there.’

‘Can you ask him to come and see me when he reappears?’

‘Will do.’

The sergeant went back to making his enquiries.

Returning to the garages, Jane saw the crew manager helping his colleagues reel in the hoses they had used to put out the fire.

‘Are you off now?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, we’re all done here. I’ll type up my report when I get back to the station and get it delivered to you. Sorry, I forgot your name,’ he said, taking out a pocket notebook and pen.

‘Detective Sergeant Jane Tennison — two n’s and one s.’

‘Do I address the envelope “The Sweeney” or “The Flying Squad”?’ he asked, trying to be funny.

‘Flying Squad, 12 Rigg Approach, which is just off Lea Bridge Road.’

‘I loved that TV series, The Sweeney. I don’t recall any policewomen working on the squad with Regan and Carter — they were right hard nuts who loved giving the villains a slap. Is it like that in real life?’

Jane ignored his remark.

‘Can you tell me if the garage door was locked or unlocked when you got here?’ she asked, recalling what the uniform sergeant had told her.

‘I don’t know, we used some hooks attached to a winch to pull it from the frame. Hang on a minute.’

He walked over to the burnt and buckled garage door, which had been placed up against a high brick wall, and examined the lock.

‘I’d say it was locked—’

‘Are you sure?’ she asked him, realizing the investigative importance of his observation.

‘Reasonably. Then again, it could have been unlocked and ripping it off somehow re-engaged the lock. Either way I can’t be certain and I’ll have to say the same in my report.’

As the crew manager left, Jane checked the garage door for herself but couldn’t tell if it was locked or unlocked as the metal pulley wire that would have been attached to it had been ripped off. She called out to Dabs, who was examining the interior of the car, to join her.

‘Can you remove the lock from the garage door?’ she asked as he approached.

He lifted the door from the wall, so he could see the exterior and interior mechanism of the lock.

‘It’s held in place by rivets that will need to be broken off with a hammer and chisel.’

‘Don’t damage the lock—’

‘I’ll get the traffic officer to help me as he’s got the right tools for the job, but why do you need it?’

‘It might be useful if we arrest a suspect and find a key that fits it.’

Dabs grinned. ‘Bit like Cinderella and the shoe... I have to say, Jane, you’re a good lateral thinker.’

‘Like I said before — Paul Lawrence taught me well.’

‘I doubt that it’s all down to him.’

‘Where’s PC Turner gone?’ she asked, looking around.

‘He’s on his car radio about the chassis plate. He’s really into his work and it’s actually quite interesting how much a chassis plate can tell you. He managed to clean a lot of the burn damage off and used... Actually, ask him to show you how he got the details from the plate — it’s quite simple but ingenious.’

Jane did as Dabs had suggested and Turner held up the chassis plate for her to see.

‘A good rub down with a few chemicals allowed me to record some of the details, then to get the rest I used this.’ He held up a lump of plasticine. ‘Although you can’t read some of the numbers and letters on the top side of the burnt plate, the original stamping leaves marks on the underside. I pressed it into this plasticine and got most of the numbers and letters missing from the top — simple but effective, don’t you think?’

‘And I thought Play-Doh was just for kids.’

‘Actually, I made this myself, with flour, water, salt, boric acid and mineral oil.’

‘Have you got enough detail from the plate to identify the registration and owner?’

He handed her a bit of paper on which he’d written down the information on the chassis plate.

‘The details provide information on things like the manufacturer, country of origin, body style, engine type, model year, assembly plant, and production number.’

‘And the owner is...?’ Jane asked, wanting him to get to the point.

‘I’m waiting for Traffic Control to radio me back with that. There are eleven figures in the code, and the last six are a number unique to that vehicle, which control are checking out.’ He pointed to the Cortina, then the chassis plate he was holding. ‘The first five figures break down like this. B is the country of origin, obviously Britain in this case. The second letter A is the assembly plant and the code for Dagenham. The next two numbers are for body and gear change type, then the following two are the year and month of manufacture, which is February 1976.’

‘Oscar November two, from control, receiving... over?’ a voice said over the traffic car radio.

PC Turner picked up the radio. ‘Oscar November two, receiving. Go ahead... over.’

‘We’ve got a match to the chassis plate number. It comes back to a brown 1976 Mark 4 Ford Cortina sedan reported lost or stolen two weeks ago by a Mr. Frank Braun of 19 Mount Pleasant Road, Tottenham N17. He’s owned the vehicle from new.’

‘Did you get all that?’ the PC asked Jane, who nodded as she jotted down the details in her pocket notebook. ‘All received, control, out.’

She flicked back a page in her pocket notebook.

‘The plate of the car seen outside the bank was SLM 273R, with a registered keeper in Sussex.’

‘If, as it would seem, the burnt-out car is the one they used during the robbery, then they must have changed the plates to a matching Cortina just after the car was stolen. That way it wouldn’t come up as LOS if you did a check on it.’

She had already considered the possibility but didn’t say so.

‘Thanks for your help, PC Turner. Identifying the owner of the Cortina so quickly is a step forward for the investigation.’

‘There is something else of interest I noticed about the car I’d like to show you.’

‘Certainly.’ Jane followed him to the driver’s side of the vehicle.

‘I examined what’s left of the car’s steering column and couldn’t see any signs that the ignition system was bypassed to steal it.’

‘Do you mean it wasn’t hot-wired?’ she asked.

‘Yes. The plastic covering around the ignition barrel has melted in situ and that means it wasn’t removed, which you’d need to do to get access to the wires. To be sure, I cut away what was left of it and there were no signs that any of the wires connected to the ignition barrel had been cut or tampered with.’

‘Are you saying the Cortina wasn’t actually stolen?’

‘It’s possible, but you can easily start these types of cars by pushing a screwdriver into the ignition keyhole and turning it.’

‘Has that been done in this case?’

‘Because of the fire damage it’s hard to say without physically removing the ignition barrel.’

‘You have my permission to do that.’

‘Thanks, but I’ll need to take it back to the station where I can clean it up and take it to bits, so I can examine it under a microscope for any damage or screwdriver marks. Then I can give you a definitive answer.’

‘That would be great, thanks. If it turns out the ignition is undamaged, then whoever was driving the Cortina must have had a key, which also suggests the owner of the car may have made a false report about it being lost or stolen.’