‘Doesn’t that prove I didn’t steal it?’ he said. ‘If I had, wouldn’t I have tried to dispose of it? I could’ve sold it or anything, but I didn’t.’

‘I’m more interested in how you came by it?’

He hung his head for a second. ‘It was given to me.’

‘Given to you?’ Lucy arched an eyebrow. ‘And who was the exceedingly generous donor?’

‘This is the bit you won’t believe … I don’t know.’

Lucy sat back. ‘Reg … someone you don’t know gave you a thirty-grand watch?’

A ripple of fear crossed his face. ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Look, if it was someone I did know, don’t you think I’d have questioned it? Who do I know who’d give me a present like that? Someone up the Railway Club? My daughter, who works as a part-time carer? My carpet-fitter son-in-law?’

Lucy regarded him carefully. ‘What were the circumstances?’

‘Like I say, whoever it was, they were anonymous. It was a couple of days before I got robbed. They shoved it through my letter box in a plastic bag. Hand-delivered it, like. No name and address on it, or anything.’ His face creased, with bitterness as well as worry. ‘Thirty grand, eh? The only thing I’ve had in my life that’s valuable, and now you want to take it off me.’

‘They hand-delivered you a Rolex in a plastic bag?’ It was still a struggle not to sound sceptical.

‘Take the piss if you want,’ he grunted. ‘But that’s what happened. I got up in the morning, and there it was on the doormat. No sign of anyone around.’

‘No note with it?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Have you still got the plastic bag?’

‘Give over, love. It went in the bin with all the other rubbish. Look …’ He raised the handkerchief again, but now to dab tears away; the emotional stress of this whole thing was becoming too much for him. ‘I can see you don’t believe me. I’d struggle to believe it too, if someone told me. But I’m not the only one this has happened to.’

‘You’re not?’

Before he could reply, her mobile vibrated in her pocket. She checked it and saw that the call was from Beardmore.

‘Sorry, Reg … I have to take this.’ She walked out into the hall. ‘Stan?’

‘Custody want to know what you’re doing with this prisoner, Jordan Burke,’ Beardmore said. ‘Are you going to charge him or what?’

‘I’ll be back in in fifteen,’ she said. ‘There’s still an irregularity, but that won’t stop us charging him.’

‘Okay … good. I also want you to interview Royton.’

‘Royton, boss?’ Lucy couldn’t conceal her frustration; she’d hoped this one would have been dealt with by now.

‘He still won’t talk to anyone else.’

‘You realise he’s just playing games?’