‘So he reckons it was just lifted up by the tide and floated down with this girl in it?’

Perry managed a laugh. ‘Yeah. He says he has no idea who the girl is, or what she would be doing in the car. They’ve got the Allegro at Newsome Motors in Lacey Dutton. I need someone to take a look. I’m formally SIO on the river death from tomorrow.’

Gillard looked at his watch. ‘Rigby has rearranged the incident room meeting for midday, so I’ve got an hour. Leave it to me. I could do with a breath of fresh air.’

Within half an hour Perry was almost home, which was just as well because he didn’t think he’d ever been so tired. The white VW Polo purred along happily enough to the outskirts of Woking, until he saw the developer’s flagpoles which marked the Shepherds’ Rest estate. A vast development of nearly 3,000 ‘exclusive executive’ homes, of which just over two thirds had been completed. He drove along Southdown Way, past the sales office and show homes, and cul-de-sacs of five-bedroom detached homes with sizeable gardens, which had been the first phase built. He then turned left into Ryeland Drive, a meandering street of semi-detached three-bedroom boxes, all garage and no house. He and Mel had looked at one of these, but she thought them soulless, with a front garden no bigger than a tablecloth, and soon to be overlooked at the back by three-storey townhouses when the next plots were built. In the end they had bought a home in yet another bucolically-themed street. It was a big stretch financially, yet more piled on the family debt. As a policeman he had not been keen to live on a street named Romney Crook. But Mel had put her foot down. The houses were a tad more expensive and a little more secluded, and the teardrop-shaped wildlife garden around which the crook-shaped road ran boasted the only mature oak tree that the developers had seen fit to leave unfelled. For Mel, and even more for his daughter, this had been a clinching advantage.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that his wife had seemed happier in the eighteen months they had been in their new home. They had been through a pretty bad patch before, and divorce had been mentioned. He really wanted to make Mel happy, but it wasn’t easy. She was what you would call high maintenance, a bit out of his league. Not just in looks, though that was important, but in aspirations and expectations. She had come from a well-off background, and having earned an MBA expected to progress well beyond his level. That’s why he was so reticent to tackle her about the mounting debts, even the never-never financing for the Audi soft-top, her pride and joy. He was simply delighted that her new wellness business seemed to be taking off.

There was very little crime in their new estate. He’d always kept an eye on the local community policing website. A few incidents of criminal damage, one of domestic violence, and then, just the other week, a high-profile incident. Five minutes’ walk away, among the townhouses of Wensleydale Walk, a burglary and carjacking had occurred. Professional thieves stealing a high-value vehicle, presumably for export.