‘You mean that vehicle ahead?’ the instructor said, pointing at the Warrior, which was now driving away.

‘Eric, shouldn’t we chase him?’ the young woman asked her instructor, her eyes lit with excitement.

Gillard sensed the dual controls being firmly depressed on the instructor side. ‘No, Briony. Not on your third lesson. I think hot pursuit comes some weeks after reversing around a corner.’ He shared a thin smile with the detective.

It was later that afternoon when Sam came to pick up her husband from Redhill A&E, with a big bag loaded with everything he’d asked for. He had a blanket around his shoulders, and was wearing only the shreds of his favourite red and green cycling trousers. They had patched him up but he still looked quite a mess, even worse than she’d expected, given how together he seemed when he had rung her. He got up gingerly as she approached but he held up a warning hand when she tried to embrace him. He flipped up the blanket to show her his back, where there was an enormous dressing. ‘That’s what my iPhone did to me as it broke up,’ he said. ‘And this was a bicycle pedal.’ He pointed to the five inches of fresh stitches on the top of his cheek and across his ear.

‘I love you,’ she said. ‘And I’ve been so worried.’

‘I’m fine really.’ They hugged carefully and he said, ‘I’m sorry to say your Christmas present to me is gone for good.’

‘Broken? Is that why you need the paperwork? You should look after yourself before writing your insurance claim.’ She opened the bag and handed him the papers. She had also brought him a complete set of casual clothing, and thought getting dressed properly should be his first priority.

Gillard was reading the watch instructions. ‘It’s got a fitness tracker on it with GPS. I managed to chuck it in the open back of the Warrior, so once we get the details and unique ID to Rob Townsend, he can get on to the manufacturer and track the truck.’

‘Wow, that watch was a better gift than I realised,’ she said. ‘So was this just casual road rage, do you think?’

Gillard shook his head and then winced slightly at the pain it caused. ‘He wanted me to think it was random, by cursing cyclists in general. But when the driver is wearing a ski mask on what is not a very cold day, you know that it was planned in advance.’

Sam was horrified. ‘But how would he know where you would go?’

Gillard shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve had plenty of time to think about all the people who might hate me, going back years. Some of them, like Charles Allerdyce, Paddy Kincaid and Ronnie Evans, are still inside, though that doesn’t mean they don’t have mates who would do such a thing. There’s lots of others: Rodney Wells, Sam Akos, a few of the Croydon gangsters from when I was in the drug squad. And of course we mustn’t forget your old mate, Gary.’