‘I should have thought to check the electoral register at Tottenham nick before coming here to see if Emma Wilson is listed as the occupant. Maybe we should knock on the neighbour’s door and ask if they know who lives here.’

Teflon agreed, and Jane knocked on the neighbour’s door. It had some boot marks on the front and a couple of jemmy marks on the door frame by the Yale lock.

‘Who is it?’ a female voice asked in a wheezy North London accent, which was overtaken by a bout of coughing.

‘It’s the police. We just wanted to have a quick word with you about your neighbour—’

‘I don’t know nothing about any of me neighbours, so clear off and leave me alone,’ she demanded.

‘We can show you our police warrant cards if you’re worried about who we are,’ Teflon said.

After a couple of seconds, they heard the Chubb and Yale locks being undone. The door opened a few inches and Jane could see it was on a chain guard. A short, grey-haired white woman in her late fifties, wearing thick-lensed black-framed glasses, peered through the gap with a lit cigarette in her mouth.

‘Let me see them cards close up.’ She coughed again as Teflon held up his warrant card. ‘That ain’t close enough.’

He moved his card closer and she peered at it.

‘How do I know that’s real?’

‘I can assure you it is, Mrs . . . ?’

She coughed again and took a deep breath. ‘You don’t look like police to me.’ She glared at Teflon.

It was obvious to Jane that the woman’s distrust was based on the colour of Teflon’s skin. She stepped forward and held her warrant card by the gap in the door.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Tennison and this is DC Johnson. We were just wondering if a Miss Emma Wilson lives at number sixty-eight.’

‘She might do – why ya wanna know?’

‘She reported a crime and we’re investigating it, but we’re not sure if we have the right address for her,’ Teflon said.

The woman coughed a few times and looked at Jane. ‘He’s a bit grumpy, ain’t he?’

Jane smiled, saying nothing.

‘I don’t know her very well, but Emma lives at sixty-eight, and she’s probably at work if she ain’t in.’

‘Do you know when she’s likely to be home?’ Teflon asked.

‘When she gets back from work,’ the woman replied, deadpan.

‘And what time would that be?’

She ignored him and directed her answer to Jane. ‘How should I know . . . ? I don’t watch her comings and goings.’

‘Do you by any chance know where she works?’ Jane asked.

‘I seen her at the Co-op department store in the High Street.’

‘Thank you,’ Jane said.

‘You found out who tried to break into my flat yet?’

The old woman pointed to the jemmy marks on the door frame.