‘The ambulance should be here soon.’

‘Where’s Tennison?’

‘Speaking to a woman who might be a witness. She got the right hump when I just called her “treacle”.’

Kingston laughed. ‘Well, that’s her nickname sorted then.’

*

The driver of the Cortina approached the estate within the speed limit and pulled up at the far end of a row of garages, where they couldn’t be seen through any residents’ windows. The man who’d fired the shotgun at the bank was looking over his shoulder out of the rear window.

‘No sign of the rozzers.’

He then put the shotgun under a towel in the travel bag, which also covered the cash box. The Irishman got out and opened the end garage for the Cortina to drive in. Once the vehicle was inside he closed the garage door and all four men quickly removed their donkey jackets and blue boiler suits, under which they were wearing casual clothes. The driver opened the boot and removed a petrol can, then he and the others threw their robbery outfits into the boot. The man who had led the robbery got the travel bag containing the cash box from the rear seat. He opened it and the Irishman placed his Luger under the towel.

The Irishman opened the garage door and the leader, along with the man who had fired the shotgun, walked slowly off the estate and down the street. When they were out of sight, the driver waited for a minute before pouring petrol over the discarded clothes and the interior of the Cortina. He then removed a Zippo lighter from his pocket, opened it and flicked the spark wheel to ignite the wick. He threw the lighter into the boot of the car, causing a loud woomph as the boiler suits and donkey jackets caught light, then shut the boot lid and closed the garage door. He and the Irishman left the estate on foot and, once in Blake Hall Road, walked off in the opposite direction to the other two men.

*

Jane approached the young white girl, who was in floods of tears and clutching a mixed-race baby to her chest. Her face was pale from shock, she looked about seventeen and her blond hair was tied in a side ponytail. She was wearing a black Puffa jacket, white T-shirt, bell-bottomed jeans and brown boots.

‘Hi, I’m Detective Sergeant Tennison. Are you OK?’

‘The police car nearly hit me and my baby.’

She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. Jane sat beside her on the wall, got a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to the girl.

‘What’s your name – and your baby’s?’

‘Mine’s Abby Jones, and he’s Daniel. He’s only eight months old and got a rash, so I was taking him to the doctor’s in the High Road.’