Doors away from the junction of North Road and West Road, Hendricks pressed a musical bell for the fourth time and, stepping back from the ramp that rested on the steps in front of the double-fronted house, looked at the garage at the side.

The mid-Victorian house and the late-twentieth-century garage were unlikely neighbours. The 1970s’ metal-doored garage was wedged between the side wall of the house and the wall that fenced in the grounds. The security light above the garage went out and he waved his arms above his head to turn it back on.

On the other side of the door, there was no sound of anyone approaching but, behind a stained-glass oval, the light went on in the hall.

‘Who is it?’ A woman’s voice came through the front door.

‘Police. It’s nothing to worry about,’ said Hendricks, hoping he was wrong.

The search had started at the north end of the grid and the hastily assembled team of constables and community officers was working systematically down to the river.

Hendricks looked down and saw a woman peeping through the gap at waist height. He saw her right foot resting on the metal plate of her wheelchair.

He held his warrant card at a level where she could read it. Her face was partially hidden behind the door and his first impression was that she was extremely shy.

‘I need to look in your garage, Mrs…?’

‘Ms Norma Maguire. What are you looking for, DS Hendricks?’

‘A white Ford Transit van.’

‘I don’t have a white van.’

‘Fair enough, but I need to look in your garage.’

She pulled an expensive-looking bag from the handle of her wheelchair and on to her lap, and unfastened the chain.

‘Excuse me,’ said Norma Maguire, opening the front door and wheeling herself down the ramp and ahead of Hendricks without looking at him. She took out her car key and pressed the fob. Without making any noise, the garage door rose up.

She wheeled herself under the rising door and turned the light on in the garage, revealing a red Vauxhall Combo and a folded-down wheelchair propped against the interior wall.

Hendricks weighed up the interior of the garage. The back wall was solid brick and there was no way of driving a vehicle to the rear of the property.

The garage was a dead end.

‘No white van, just my red Vauxhall Combo WAV.’

‘WAV, Miss Maguire?’

‘Wheelchair Accessible Vehicle. I need it to get to work and back. So, what’s the big deal with the white van?’ asked Ms Maguire.

Hendricks moved to look at Ms Maguire directly. She shifted her wheelchair a little to the right and looked away from Hendricks.

‘Are you all right, Ms Maguire?’

‘I’m extremely shy and I’m not used to having people call to the house. If you could give me my personal space, I’d be grateful.’