“William Fox is doing the postmortem as we speak. What we know is that the body found in Rose Cottage is definitely male, but dental records are a no-go due to extensive, seemingly accidental, facial damage. We’ll get DNA from bone marrow so, when that’s through, Laura, I want you to lead a couple of uniforms in checking it against all databases. Anik, the money?”

“Our forensics have picked up from where DI Prescott’s left off and are trying to find a serial number or part serial number for comparison. It’s very unlikely, they say.”

“Keep on them, Anik. And in the meantime, I want you checking all known sex offenders. Start close to Aylesbury and work outward.” Anik clearly wasn’t happy with such a menial task on a murder case, but Ridley didn’t care about that. “The word ‘pervert’ was painted on the wall for a reason. Actually, Anik, check local vagrants as well.”

“Sir,” Anik mumbled obediently as he opened a brand-new file to record his part in this investigation. Jack glanced at his overnight bag and recalled that the file Charlie had given him was lying atop his clothes right beneath the zip.

Jack got an empty file from his desk, just as Anik had done, and wrote on the front cover: AYLESBURY ARSON / MURDER. JUNE 23, 2019. He then reached into his overnight bag, pulled out the dog-eared file containing information on his birth parents, and put it inside the Aylesbury file. As Ridley waffled on, none the wiser, Jack read his birth certificate.

He had always known his birth mother’s name was Trudie Nunn and his birth father was James Anthony Nunn. There were no photographs in the file of James Nunn. Just Trudie. Looking at the photos, she had a petite frame, bleached blonde hair and a naturally sexy look about her. Jack wished that the word “sexy” hadn’t popped into his head, but he couldn’t change that now—it was a fact: his birth mum had been a sexy woman in her day. Jack then found Trudie’s death certificate. It was dated 1998 and the cause was a brain tumor.

Jack didn’t hear Ridley say his name the first time.

“Jack!”

He slammed the file shut on his desk and looked up. An elderly man—early seventies—was standing next to Ridley, leaning on a cane.

“For your benefit, Jack, as you missed the opening of the briefing, this is retired DS Bill Thorn from Aylesbury. He’s kindly agreed to help us with some background information as he was part of the investigating team on the mail train robbery and knew Norma Walker, last occupant of Rose Cottage.”

Jack smiled his “hello,” as Ridley gave Bill the floor.

“I chatted with DI Prescott first and he directed me your way—this could be one hell of an open case you’ve picked up.” Bill Thorn was clearly a copper to his very core. He was in his element at the front of Ridley’s squad room, all eyes on him. “I worked with Norma in the mounted division till I moved to CID in the late nineties—but it’s 1995 that you need to hear about. Bottom line is, I don’t know anything about your murder, DCI Ridley—but I think I know plenty about your money. Back in ’95, Aylesbury had the biggest train robbery this country’s ever seen. As you already know, £27 million was taken from a mail train by a gang of masked gunmen. It was bloody smart, I can tell you. One was on horseback, posing as a mounted officer, and there was definitely one in a speedboat on the lake next to the tracks, ’cos the two train guards distinctly recalled hearing the engine. They all disappeared like ghosts. But it had to have been a decent sized gang based on sheer volume of cash. I mean, a million is a fair weight, so twenty-seven million would need some muscle to shift it and hide it in less than forty minutes. That’s how long they had before we started closing all the main roads into Aylesbury. And we were searching properties by the early hours of the following morning.”