Matt had spent the whole of last night trying to convince Kelly that she was needed here in London, but she was adamant that she wanted to go home. She’d got what she’d come for, and HQ in Penrith certainly weren’t going to complain about her returning to the constabulary and saving them a bit of cash. Having her visit the Met under the circumstances was justifiable, and she’d learned a tremendous amount about the case. Not least this morning, as more sightings of the white van spotted at George Murphy’s house flooded in.

After a phone call from Johnny telling her about Graeme Millar’s information, they’d also checked out the vehicle number plate for the white van he’d seen in Portinscale. It turned out to be uninsured and unregistered. The absence of a record raised more red flags: if it belonged to a legitimate building company, the van would be traceable. The plate was given to the ANPR computer to see if they could clock it entering or departing the Lake District. Graeme’s information further puzzled them because Montague-Roland had said that he was unsure if anyone was at the property.

The office thronged with noise and moving bodies, all anxious to finish their current task and move on to the next. It was dizzying but thrilling at the same time. Kelly read an email from a parole officer in central London. A circular had been sent to all the Met’s current databases for criminals recently out of prison or on parole for burglary and aggravated violent assault or murder. It was a sizeable list, but the officer had noted that one of his wards had missed an appointment, and when he was tracked down and warned, the man in question became angry and agitated. It was a common sign that an offender was in trouble, and one that parole officers were taught to look out for, so when the officer heard about a brutal crime involving violence and theft, he thought of his perp.

It was worth checking out. Kelly took it to Matt.

‘Leo Brown? Never heard of him. Who is he?’

‘He has a long record of burglary and assault. He’s ex-army, dishonourably discharged for being tested positive for Class A drugs. He’s a general rogue, always on the lookout to make a few quid – and his aunt owns a nautical antiques warehouse in Islington.’

‘You are pulling my leg?’ Matt grinned. ‘Do we have a photo?’

Kelly nodded and used his computer screen to bring one up. In it, Leo Brown sported a black eye.

‘Where is he now?’

‘He missed another appointment with his parole officer.’

‘I bet he did. Go public with it, let’s smoke him out. Do we have prints and DNA from his prison file?’

‘Yup.’