‘Most,’ Oaks answered. ‘The riding schools have their logo on the side of their horseboxes, so they’re easy to spot. The unbranded horseboxes belong to renters; I wouldn’t know who’s got them week to week. Horse shows bring thousands of outsiders in, of course; some rent boxes, some bring their own. And the lorries . . . some are transporting big equipment to and from local farms; some are European, passing through. We’ve seen dozens of local petitions asking us to force the lorries to go around, but we can’t.’

Jack was intrigued by just how confusing this community actually was. There were so many people who didn’t permanently belong. He speculated that a stranger would certainly be noticed, but also ignored, as they’d be assumed to be one of the numerous transients who pass through every week. Jack’s view of the investigation had radically changed in a moment. Now he was thinking, How on earth could Gifford and his team be expected to keep track of everyone?

‘Now I can see your big problem, Oaks,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘You live in a moveable community. Private renters with their own staff coming and going every week, famous faces taking a break from life, weekend wanderers, second homes, tourists, horse shows. Fuck me.’ Oaks snorted out a laugh at Jack’s profanity. ‘These burglaries are quick and slick, right?’ Jack continued as the lights finally turned green and Oaks pulled away.

‘Yes, sir. I’d say they were targeted but, truth is, you could break into any of these out-of-the-way houses and you’d probably hit the jackpot. The gang definitely has electronics knowledge ’cos security systems and safes don’t cause them any bother. We had one old fella last month, took him days to notice he’d even been robbed. They went straight for his collection of watches in the dressing table, see, and he never knew till he was getting ready for some golfing awards ceremony. He called his insurance company before he called us. The problem with that burglary, sir, and one of the reasons my guvnor called yours, was that the old fella reckons he must have been asleep in bed on the night they robbed him, ’cos he’d been ill with flu. They wouldn’t have known that, and thankfully he was dosed up on Night Nurse, so didn’t wake up. But it’s only a matter of time before they bump into a homeowner, and I reckon they’d not think twice about killing someone. I mean, if you can stick a letter opener into the ear of old Jonty, you can kill a man . . .’ Oaks shook his head sadly. ‘How does all that compare to your burglaries in Wimbledon, sir?’