‘Two of my colleagues are parked up outside your pub in an unmarked BMW – you can ask them if you don’t believe me.’

‘I will.’

Fiona lifted the bar counter flap and exited the pub into the High Road. It wasn’t long before she returned and spoke to Jane.

‘The Cortina was parked up opposite the Aylmer Road entrance to the pub, on the far side of the road – just about where Pete the plumber’s white van is now.’

‘Do you know where I can find Pete? I need him to move his van so I can look under it.’

‘Yeah, he’s in the snug bar playing pool with his apprentice. Look, I’m sorry if I doubted you. I just needed to be sure about who you were, especially as you didn’t look like a detective with black marks all over your coat.’

‘It’s soot from a burnt-out car, and you’re not the first to doubt who I am today. I’m beginning to wonder if I should have come to work in jeans and a T-shirt with a false moustache and a deep voice.’

‘Slip your coat and jacket off and I’ll give them a quick dab down with a sponge and water.’

‘Thanks, but I’m pressed for time, so I’ll do it when I get back to the station. Would you mind asking Pete to move his van for me?’

Jane noticed a sullen-looking Cam entering through the High Road entrance of the pub.

‘The DI’s been on the radio again wanting to know where we are.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘That you were in the Crown talking to the landlady and I didn’t have a clue what it was about.’

‘And what was his reply?’

‘That he’d already spoken to her and to get our arses back to Rigg right away – and that’s putting it politely.’

‘I’ll be a minute or two yet—’

‘What exactly are you doing?’

‘Looking for something.’

‘Looking for what?’

‘I’ll know if I find it.’

She walked off, leaving Cam shaking his head in frustration.

As Jane waited in Aylmer Road, Fiona came out of the pub.

‘Pete’s just finishing his game of pool and said he’ll be two minutes . . . Hello, Betty, you all right?’

Jane turned to see who Fiona was speaking to and saw a frail elderly woman with a hunched back walking slowly and pulling a canvas shopping trolley.

‘No, I bloody ain’t, Fi,’ Betty replied in a strong cockney accent. ‘I couldn’t get me shoppin’ done what with all that ’oo-’a goin’ on outside the bank this mornin’. If I was forty years younger, I’d ’ave ’ad a go at them bleedin’ robbers.’

‘It was terrible, Betty, but thankfully no one got badly hurt—’