Jane smiled. ‘As it happens I would like to speak to you about the garage fire—’

‘An officer whose name I can’t remember already spoke to me earlier about it, dear.’

‘That was ADC Murray.’

Helen looked confused. ‘He told me he was a detective.’

‘He works with me – he’s a driver on the Flying Squad and helps us with our enquiries.’

‘What’s the Flying Squad?’

‘We investigate bank robberies. I’m here in connection with one that occurred at Barclays Bank in Leytonstone this morning.’

‘I don’t know anything about any bank robberies, dear,’ she said, looking worried.

‘Did ADC Murray not tell you why he was asking about your garage?’

‘He said the garages had been set alight and ours had been badly damaged and the police were investigating it as a possible arson. He wondered if our car was in the garage and I told him my daughter has it. When I left the flat to go and see my husband in hospital I saw the fire brigade and police next to a burnt-out car. I thought it might be some of them hooligan kids from the estate down the road who’d done it – they come up here breaking into the flats and stealing stuff from cars.’

Jane realised that Murray probably hadn’t wanted to unduly overstress Helen, so he didn’t mention the possible connection to the armed robbery, but she decided it was time to be honest with her.

‘It wasn’t kids who did this, Mrs Clarke. We have reason to believe a getaway car used in the bank robbery was dumped in your garage and set alight with petrol.’

‘I honestly don’t know anything about a bank robbery or the fire,’ Helen said, looking more distressed.

‘I don’t think for one minute that you do, Mrs Clarke, but knowing a bit more about your garage, and anyone who used it, might help the investigation.’

Helen opened the door. ‘You’d better come in then. I just boiled the kettle – would you like some tea?’

Jane said she would and followed Helen into the kitchen, which was the first room to the left on the ground floor two-bedroom maisonette. The small kitchen was spotless, and three silver containers marked coffee, tea and sugar were neatly laid out next to a round Swan electric kettle. Helen made a pot of tea and used a small strainer to catch the leaves as she poured the tea into two bone china cups. She let Jane pour her own milk while she got some custard cream and Bourbon biscuits out of a round floral decorated tin and placed them neatly on a side plate.

‘Your officer Murray likes his biscuits and ate a plateful himself,’ Helen remarked with a smile.

Jane carried the two teas as she followed Helen through to the living room at the end of the short hallway.