‘Spoke to Bella Pizza. Order was phoned in at five, asked for delivery around seven. Name of Gerrard.’

‘Doug Gerrard, then,’ Clare said.

‘Yeah, must be. Funny thing is…’

‘Yeah?’

‘It was a pretty big order.’

‘They’re pretty big guys.’

‘Twelve large pizzas for four guys? Plus sides.’

‘Hmm. So, they had company?’

‘Looks like it.’

‘Boss.’ Sara appeared at the kitchen door.

Clare poured boiling water into mugs and set down the kettle. ‘Yeah?’

‘Something you should see.’

They followed her through and waited while she sat down in front of the monitor. ‘It’s just after eight p.m.,’ Sara said, moving the mouse. ‘Now, watch.’

They stood behind her peering at the screen. And then they saw the security guard appear in front of the gap in the fence. A dark-coloured vehicle approached and the guard moved to the side and spoke to the driver. A few seconds later he stepped back to allow the van to pass through.

‘Looks like a Transit van,’ Clare said. ‘What do you reckon’s in it?’

‘Judging by the amount of food they ordered,’ Chris said, ‘I’d guess it’s people.’

Clare bent to look more closely at the screen. ‘Can you zoom in on the van please, Sara?’

Sara paused the footage and zoomed in. Then she advanced it, frame by frame until the van swung round, following the drive and they had a clear shot of the left side.

‘Is it a minibus?’ Clare said.

Chris peered at it. ‘Converted van, I think. See how the evening sun’s caught the windows? It’s dark glass but look,’ he jabbed the screen, ‘definitely figures inside.’

They watched the footage for another few minutes but there was nothing else to be seen.

‘Keep on it, Sara,’ Clare said. ‘We need to know when that van left.’

Sara returned to her task while Clare and Chris took their coffees into her office.

‘Did the security guard mention this?’ Clare asked.

‘Nope. Told me about the pizzas being delivered but nothing about another van. And the three friends said nothing about it either. Want to head back up there? Have it out with them?’

‘Let’s wait for ballistics first. PM too. See if we have a time of death.’

Caroline French’s phone was engaged so Clare dialled the number for the pathology lab and asked for Neil Grant. After a short delay he came to the phone.

‘Just wondering about our gunshot victim,’ Clare said.

‘I’m writing it up now, Clare. Full report by tomorrow. But the upshot is he died from the bullet wound, probably somewhere between midnight Friday and midday Saturday. Given he was found outside, I’d guess it happened in daylight. Harder to get a clear shot at night, even with a night vision scope. Mind you, I’m no expert on ballistics.’

‘What about the bullet?’ Clare asked.