“Kate’s just walked through the door with your answer.” I knew Tony would be squirming at the glee in Bill’s voice. “Listen to this for a scam. The Smarts’ warehouse is the middle one of three, right? They all have pitched roofs, right? And all three back on to Fastfit. Which has a flat roof behind a parapet so you can’t see it from the street. Still with me? The gear comes out of the window in the gable end of the warehouse, on to the Fastfit roof, down to the Fastfit loading bay then over the hills and far away … Yes, Kate has it all on film. They’ve been moving gear back in today. They must have spotted your surveillance team and shifted everything out in advance of the raid. And of course, you wouldn’t be moving on them again till you saw something going in. And long before you did, you’d lose interest.”

Nothing like making someone’s day. I headed back for Colcutt hoping that someone would make mine.

Chapter   22

By the time I got to Colcutt, the buzz of tracking the Smarts’ scam had worn off and my stomach seemed to think it was time for something a little more substantial than black coffee. I headed for the kitchen, planning to take some of my wages in kind. On the way, I noticed that the rehearsal room was taped up with police seals. I wondered how long it would be before Jett felt like making music again.

I poked around in the kitchen, checking out the fridge, the freezer and the cupboards. I opened a can of Heinz tomato soup, the ultimate comfort food, emptied it into a bowl and put it in the microwave. I’d only managed to get a couple of spoonfuls down when the door leading into the stable yard opened and Micky walked in, shaking the drops of rain off his waxed jacket. It was the first time I’ve ever seen anyone with arms so long their wrists actually stuck out of the sleeves of a Barbour.

He nodded at me and headed for the kettle, pulling off a tweed cap which had left a circular impression on his thin blond-streaked brown hair. The effect was quite bizarre. “Bloody awful weather,” he complained, the cigarette in the corner of his mouth bobbing up and down like a conductor’s baton.

“You’re not wrong. You wouldn’t have caught me out in it unless I’d been working,” I fished. He didn’t rise. All I got for my pains was a grunt that fitted well with his simian features. I tried again. “Have you got a minute? I need to ask you some questions.”