Barbara walked into the squad room just as Jack and Oaks were discussing Charlotte and Annie’s financial situation. The two women were still of interest based on Charlotte being in the employ of all the burglary victims – but it was a tenuous link at best, seeing as Charlotte was also in the employ of half the station. Most of her customers had not been burgled, so she was looking more and more like a stray statistic that would come to nothing.

Four years earlier, Annie’s father had passed away and left her £200,000. Their smallholding had been mortgaged to the hilt, so this money rescued them at exactly the right moment. They paid off the mortgage and were now living a much more comfortable life. Charlotte’s earnings peaked at around the £30,000 mark; most of that came from the gardening work, with a little extra from produce sales, but nothing life-changing. Charlotte sold fresh fruit and veg direct to her gardening clients and Annie sold the rest at a farmer’s market each Saturday morning. They also both had part-time work at the Soho Farmhouse, a 100-acre luxury retreat in the Oxfordshire countryside.

Their bank balance fluctuated seasonally, which made sense to Jack, and currently it was low – but a cash amount of almost £2,000 had gone out just three weeks ago and this was an anomaly. Jack had just instructed Oaks to find out what that money was for when Barbara chipped in, ‘That’s her new mower. Big green thing it is. Noisy as hell. Got it second-hand for £1,800 from James Somerset. She gets a bargain and he gets free mowing for the rest of his life. Not that that’ll be long. He’s got cancer of the pancreas . . .’ Jack had stopped listening just after Barbara said that Charlotte had bought a new mower for £1,800, which Jack thought was good, because he liked them and didn’t want them to become persons of interest.

By early evening, Oaks and Jack were the only ones left. Oaks watched Jack’s silhouette as he paced up and down the wall of windows, the rolling hills beyond reddening under the setting sun. ‘Maisie’s burglary is confusing us,’ Jack finally said. ‘It’s not the same. It’s clumsy, amateurish. I know real criminals, and the man who allowed himself to be seen by a teenager was not a real criminal.’ Oaks listened intently. He’d learnt so much from Jack already about how to read people and events properly. ‘Oaks, find out if Maisie can come back. If she can’t . . . we’ll go to Swindon and interview her there. I’m popping to London tomorrow, but I’ll be back the day after.’

Then Jack said goodnight and headed to his B&B.

*