Hawkins kept her expression non-committal. ‘Are you Vladimir?’

‘Yes.’ He moved closer, letting the door shut behind him. ‘But we are booked up for two months. There is other place on high street.’

‘I’m not here about a car.’ Hawkins held up her ID. ‘I’m interested in one of your employees, Joel Kowalski.’

She watched Kask’s expression move from mild surprise through deliberation to guardedness, which she took to mean that the garage owner was probably playing fast and loose with employment regulations.

He considered her for a moment. ‘Yes, he was working for me.’

‘Was. Did he leave?’

‘Not exactly.’ Kask moved round behind the dirt-streaked counter. ‘I … suspend him.’

‘Why?’

‘He was … unreliable, you know, head in clouds.’

‘Preoccupied, maybe,’ Hawkins offered. ‘Was he in some kind of trouble?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘Then what was the problem?’

Kask crossed his arms. ‘Boy wasn’t paying attention, miss too many shifts, so I send him away, tell him to … get head straight. If there is no improvement when he returns, he must find new job; other place to live.’

Hawkins frowned. ‘You own the house on Danbrook Road.’

‘Yes. Numbers sixty-eight to seventy-four.’ He motioned towards the workshop. ‘All jobs come with accommodation.’

Which explained why Kowalski’s wage was low.

Hawkins glanced around as the two mechanics she’d seen outside passed the window, heading for the blue Fiesta. ‘Are all your staff from the continent?’

He nodded. ‘Everyone has visa. You want to see?’

‘No thanks, I’m only interested in Kowalski. Can you tell me a bit more about him?’

The garage owner sniffed and looked around as the manic buzz of an air compressor cracked the relative peace beyond the glass.

He turned back. ‘Joel worked at my brother’s garage in Estonia, came to UK three months ago, I don’t know why. But he is good mechanic, so I took him on.’

‘Did he have friends or family here?’

‘He did not mention.’

‘When did you last have contact?’

Kask’s frown deepened. ‘Maybe … couple of weeks. The day I suspend him.’

Hawkins waited for him to ask why she wanted to know, a natural question given the circumstances. But no query came. ‘Aren’t you concerned about not having heard from Joel, especially when you’re housing him for free?’

He shrugged. ‘I live here; visit staff houses on Friday afternoons. Joel is not there on my last two visits. He has one week left, then back to work or out. He knows it.’

Hawkins was about to press the point when she heard the door behind her open, and turned to see a skinny man in his twenties wearing a short leather jacket enter the reception area. He eyed Hawkins briefly before Kask addressed him in the much friendlier tone clearly reserved for customers.