‘As it happens, yes, and I haven’t bothered to get a replacement – though it’s clearly not worth doing so now, is it?’

‘How and where did you lose the key?’ Baxter asked.

‘I didn’t lose it. It was stolen—’

Baxter interrupted. ‘Of course it was – no doubt by a pickpocket and you didn’t feel a thing.’

Braun opened his eyes wide. ‘That’s right! Was that a wild guess or can you read minds?’

The Colonel took a step towards him. ‘It’s not in your interest to be flippant with us, Mr Braun.’

Braun folded his arms. ‘Are you threatening to arrest me?’

‘We can continue this conversation here or down at the station – the choice is yours,’ Baxter said.

Braun glared at him. ‘If you’d had the decency to let me finish, I was going to tell you my wife was at the Coolbury nightclub with some friends when her handbag was stolen. And before you ask, she reported it to the police and gave them a list of everything that was in the bag – including the car keys.’

‘Where’s the Coolbury?’ Baxter asked as he got out his pocket notebook to write the location down.

‘In Tottenham High Road near the junction with White Hart Lane – a lot of the Spurs players use it.’

‘Well, I doubt one of them would nick a handbag.’ Baxter smirked.

‘I’d like you to tell me exactly why you’re both here, because I’m sensing it’s not just to tell me my car was found,’ Braun demanded.

The Colonel looked him in the eye. ‘We had a vehicle examiner go over what was left of your car. In his expert opinion nothing was forced into the ignition barrel to start the vehicle and it wasn’t hot-wired either, which means . . .’ He paused to let Braun answer.

‘A key was used to start it . . . and you think I might be involved in some way.’

’Are you, Mr Braun?’ the Colonel asked.

‘No, I’m not. The car was stolen from outside my house while I was on holiday in Mauritius with my wife. My neighbour noticed it was gone, but he didn’t realise it had been stolen.’

‘All sounds a bit fishy to me,’ Baxter remarked.

‘Do I look like someone who’d be involved in a bank robbery?’

The Colonel grinned. ‘Believe me, they come in all shapes and sizes—’

‘This is ridiculous, I’ve got a holiday booking receipt and a dated Mauritian entry stamp in my passport.’

He walked towards the cabinet to get them.

‘It’s OK, I don’t doubt you were on holiday, but who’s to say the theft of the key and being on holiday isn’t a set up alibi?’ the Colonel suggested.

Braun was struggling to remain calm. ‘I can put up with you calling me a liar – but don’t you dare insinuate my wife is!’