Townsend fast-forwarded the trace until it seemed to be travelling at several hundred miles an hour, heading on minor roads towards Woking. Then it hesitated at the junction of the A3 before heading off rapidly on that major road to the south-west. Townsend speeded up the trace again, but Gillard asked him to stop. ‘Rob can you go back to the turn-off on the A3?’

The young officer did so. Gillard asked him to zoom in on the map, until it started to be populated with road names and other details. The minor road crossing the A3 was called Rose Lane, heading from West Horsley to Ripley. ‘Just what I thought,’ Gillard said. ‘The minor road goes over the A3 here. But the trace shows him turning off onto it.’

‘Yes, it’s a bridge.’ Townsend tried to drag the little Google man icon across to the bridge which would link to a Google Street View photograph. He wanted to see whether it was possible to get onto the A3 here. But the icon kept bouncing back, indicating that this particular lane had not been traversed by the Google mapping cars. He was however able to get a Street View image of the bridge from the A3. It showed that there was no slip road or track of any kind.

‘I don’t get it,’ Townsend said, staring sullenly at the screen.

‘I do,’ Gillard said. ‘Our suspect probably heard the watch rattling in the back, stopped to take a look, guessed what it was and thought he’d fool us. Leaning over the bridge, he was probably able to drop it into the back of some quarry lorry or similar.’

‘He’s very forensically aware, isn’t he?’ Townsend asked.

‘Did you do the ANPR searches for the Warrior over the preceding days?’ Gillard asked.

‘Yes, as you suspected, it was the vehicle stolen from the address in Woking. There have only been a few ANPR camera hits, in the rough area bordered by Woking to the north, Guildford to the west, and the M25 to the east. One was from a mobile patrol vehicle.’

The detective rubbed his chin. ‘That’s all a little surprising, isn’t it?’

‘Why?’ the young officer replied.

‘Look, if you have just picked and stolen a newish, high-value and quite distinctive four-wheel-drive from some poor sod in Woking, the last thing you would be doing is driving it round the same area he lives, right?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘If you were a professional thief, you’d change the plates for a start, and sell it to someone on the Scottish Borders, in West Wales, or even get it shipped abroad to Albania where they never ask questions.’

Townsend nodded again.

‘If he continues to drive it round just in this small area, we can catch him,’ Gillard said.

‘Maybe he’s not so smart.’

‘Don’t count on it. Everything he’s done so far has been clever. Very clever.’

Chapter Twelve

Thursday

DI Perry had made an appointment to see Dr Nina Summers at the mortuary in Redhill, and Gillard wanted to come too. The Home Office forensic pathologist was one of the most senior and experienced in the country, and had agreed to undertake the post-mortem of Beatrice Ulbricht at Dr Delahaye’s request. Dr Summers was there to greet them.