The crew manager was having difficulty prising the bonnet open with his axe and asked one of his colleagues to assist him. As Jane watched them, she suspected the car was probably stolen and knew that identifying the owner would be an important part of the investigation. She recalled her attachment to Traffic Division, near the end of her uniformed probation, and learning how a small metal plate riveted to the chassis under the bonnet contained unique details about the car and its origin, which could be used to identify the registration and the owner.

‘You know much about chassis plates, Dabs?’

‘A bit, but don’t ask me what all the numbers and letters on them mean.’

‘We could get a traffic officer to examine it here and now,’ she suggested.

Dabs nodded. ‘Chassis plates are stamped metal and pretty resilient to fire.’

The crew manager and his colleague finally managed to open the bonnet and used the prop to hold it up. The engine compartment was badly burnt, with heat-buckled metal parts, molten plastic and burnt wires. Dabs leant forward and pointed to the fire-damaged chassis plate, which was barely readable.

‘On second thoughts, it’s probably best I remove the plate and send it to the lab for examination . . .’

Jane knew that would take even more time for a result.

‘A traffic officer might be able to give us something positive here and now . . . Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

Dabs agreed and asked the uniformed PC guarding the scene to contact a traffic vehicle examination unit and ask them to attend Edgar House. Jane thought about the scene at Woodville Road.

‘Will the car’s door sills have been damaged by the fire?’ she asked the crew manager.

‘Not if the seal between the sill and the door is tight enough.’

‘Will it be all right to open the car doors now?’

He held up his right hand. ‘I’ve got heavy-duty gloves on, so best I do it in case the handle’s still a bit hot. I’ll retrieve the burnt petrol can for you as well.’

‘Thanks. Could you open the front passenger door first, please?’

‘What’s the interest in the door sills, Sarge?’ Dabs asked as the crew manager opened the passenger door.

‘It’s to do with the blood we found on Woodville Road.’

She stepped forward to get a closer look at the sill, as did Dabs, who now realised what she was hoping to find. Jane smiled as she pointed to two drops of blood on the sill.

‘A young witness called Abby said the man who shot at the police car got out of the front passenger seat and back in it when the car left. I think the blood drops on the sill and in Woodville Road might be from an injury he sustained.’

Dabs was impressed with her thought process.