At the far end of the flats there were thirty numbered brick-built and asbestos-roofed garages in two rows of fifteen facing each other. The burnt-out garage 29 was at the far end of the row, and five fire brigade officers were present. Two firemen were still hosing down the roof and the inside of the garage, while one was working on the Cortina, which had been winched out onto the concrete driveway by a red fire brigade Land Rover. A cloud of steam rose from the car as the cold water hit the hot metal, and the acrid smell of burnt rubber from the tyres filled the air.

Jane approached a young uniformed PC, who was encouraging some residents who had gathered to return to their flats as the smoke and burnt tyre fumes were not good for their lungs. Jane introduced herself and he told her what had happened so far and gave her the details of the occupant who had made the original 999 call to the fire brigade.

‘He was going to go out in his car, which is parked in a garage at the opposite end, and said he saw smoke coming out of garage 29, so he ran back to his flat and dialled 999. I spoke to him and asked if he saw anyone in or around any of the garages before the fire, but he said he didn’t. A few residents were coming out to see what was going on and I asked them to return to their flats for their own safety. Also, knowing you’d probably want to do house-to-house, I thought it was best they were indoors.’

‘You’ve done a good job. Are the properties council-owned flats?’ she asked.

‘No, they belong to a housing association who rent them out to the tenants, most of whom are forty-plus. The flats and grounds are well maintained, and the majority of the residents are friendly and pro-police – you always get a cup of tea and a biscuit when you walk round the estate.’

‘Sounds like crime is a rare event round here?’

‘Pretty much. Problems only occur when the little scrotes from the estate down the road come up here causing trouble. There’s the occasional burglary and criminal damage but that’s about it.’

‘Would you mind manning the scene while myself and SOCO Morgan deal with the forensic examinations?’

‘Not at all. If you need a hand I’m more than happy to help out.’

Jane thanked him and walked over to one of the fire brigade officers who, unlike the others, had two black bands on his yellow helmet and was giving orders to his colleagues. She showed him her warrant card.

‘I’m WDS Tennison and this is Senior SOCO Morgan. We’re investigating a bank robbery and believe the burnt-out Cortina might have been used as a getaway car.’

‘I thought the Flying Squad dealt with bank robberies?’