Twenty-two-year-old Joel Kowalski had opened the account three months before he died, using an address on Danbrook Road, just two minutes’ drive from the garage. The house turned out to be a pinched three-bed terrace with a front garden full of building detritus. And no answer at the door.

After three increasingly loud knocks, and sufficient peering through the front windows to satisfy herself that no one was home, Hawkins had chosen to investigate his probable workplace instead. Four hundred pounds a month looked like a part-time wage, but the payments were regular enough to suggest employment of some kind.

On the way, she had checked in with Amala, who had been joined by DS Sharpe in seeking out next of kin for the other victims. Their primary objective, aside from breaking the news to loved ones, was to create a list of people who might be interested in causing physical harm to the deceased. They were also trying to establish how familiar with one another, if at all, the three men had been.

So far, Amala had tracked down Colin Wilson’s ex-wife, Amanda, and arranged for family liaison officers to collect the couple’s twin girls from school while she continued trying to extract information from the legal secretary, who was in a state after learning of her former husband’s death. Their marriage had dissolved two years ago, mainly because thirty-year-old Wilson had often disappeared for weeks at a time pursuing stories. This partly explained why his recent two-week absence hadn’t been reported, but other than this Amala was yet to glean anything useful.

Aaron, having returned from his training course, had been doing the same for the remaining victim, William Tennent. The twenty-five-year-old entrepreneur had lived alone in Camberwell, and there were no records of family in or around the capital. The reason for this was that Tennent’s parents now lived in Portugal, according to his accountant whom Aaron had managed to locate.

Apparently, Tennent had been a loner who kept details about his private life largely to himself. All the accountant knew was that his client and occasional drinking partner used various dating apps to meet other men for casual fun, but none was ever discussed or referred to by name.

Ultimately, neither Tennent nor Wilson was known to have been in any significant trouble that might threaten their wellbeing. And neither living party appeared to know the other two victims.

Both reports stank of dead end.

Which left Joel Kowalski as their sole remaining hope of a decent primary lead. But if the information yielded by Hawkins’ visit to Streatham Motors was similarly innocuous, they could all kiss goodbye to a swift resolution. Despite her initial excitement, Hawkins’ mind kept drifting back to her own situation. And, more importantly, the question of how she was going to placate Mike.

On second thoughts, distraction might be the last thing she needed.