‘Jordan,’ she said, ‘19, Durkin Crescent belongs to an OAP who, even though he keeps a tidy house, probably never has more than a few bob to spend, and most of that goes on mild and bitter. How’s he likely to have come into possession of a Rolex watch?’

Burke shrugged. ‘Dunno, but it was there. Not gonna forget a piece of kit like that.’

The main reason this anomaly concerned Lucy was because it suggested the suspect was still holding out on them, and that he may have done another job on a higher calibre property, one that had proved more rewarding to him. It would be the irony of ironies if they missed something like that because he’d lulled them by coughing to a bunch of lesser crimes.

‘You know, Jordan,’ she said, ‘we’ve already agreed that we may TIC some of these offences … the smaller ones, where you didn’t take much. But we won’t be able to extend that to a major break if one suddenly emerges late in the day.’

‘Major break?’ Burke seemed genuinely bemused. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You didn’t get this Rolex watch from a council property on the Hatchwood, did you?’

Lucy was certain of this, because as well as the sheaf of paperwork they’d been working through with the suspect, she also had a copy of the original crime report in front of her, and the stolen goods listed at 19, Durkin Crescent did not include a Rolex.

Burke regarded her warily, as if she was trying to play a game with him.

‘I swear I did,’ he said.

She stared back at him. He was a lifelong thief; for all that he was apparently assisting, his promises and assurances meant very little. There was no reason on earth to believe him. But if this was an untruth, it was a pretty ridiculous one.

She briefly wondered if the Rolex might indeed have belonged to Reg Murgatroyd. Was it conceivable that he’d been awarded it by some kind of old soldiers’ association, or something?

Pausing the interview, she went down to the Evidence Store, a vault-like cellar accessible from a stair in the Charge Office, where she rustled through the various exhibit bags, finally pulling out the Rolex, turning it over and over in her hand, examining it through the clear plastic. There was no question about its value; it was Rolex Day-Date, done in what looked like rose gold, with diamond studs around its dial. This was a pricy item. Not the kind of thing you’d expect charitable groups like the British Legion to donate. And even if they had, surely that would have increased its value to the owner, making it impossible to imagine that, when it was stolen, he would either not notice or fail to report it.