He spun round and saw that a vehicle had pulled off the road and had come to an abrupt halt halfway along the driveway.

‘That’s his van,’ Abbott blurted, and they could both see the familiar figure of William Nash beyond the windscreen.

The van suddenly went into reverse, backing out onto the road with a loud screech of tyres.

‘He’s doing a runner,’ James yelled. ‘We need to get after him.’

As they rushed towards the pool car, James asked for the keys and Abbott grabbed them from her pocket and handed them over. Before he got behind the wheel, James shouted to the patrol officers to follow them.

Seconds later he stamped on the pool car’s accelerator pedal and spun the wheel so they were heading back across the yard towards the driveway.

Nash had taken a right turn and was now driving away from the village. James followed, his pulse galloping in his head as he switched on the siren and instructed Abbott to get on the radio and alert control to what was happening.

Nash was well ahead of them, but it was a narrow, twisting road and the conditions were treacherous.

The guy was obviously desperate to avoid being questioned again so God only knew how fast he would go and how many risks he was prepared to take.

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in hot pursuit of another vehicle and his heart felt as though it was trying to punch its way out of his chest.

The patrol car stayed with them, blue light flashing as they raced along the slippery road.

Fortunately, traffic was light and the few cars they came across pulled over to let them pass.

They spotted Nash’s van after about two miles and that was only because a bunch of sheep being herded across the road slowed him down. He was honking the horn and recklessly forcing his way through them as James closed the gap.

An irate farmer was gesticulating wildly and at least one of his sheep nearly got flattened beneath the van’s tyres. Thankfully the rest of the herd quickly scurried onto the narrow verges either side of the road, allowing James to steer a path between them.

As soon as the sheep were behind them, James stamped on the accelerator again and the car lurched forward.

‘There’s a T-junction up ahead,’ James told Abbott. ‘Let’s hope he turns right. It’ll take him further away from the village and along another few miles of straight road with no homes.’

Abbott placed both her hands against the dashboard, as though bracing herself for the moment the pool car came to a sudden stop.

‘This is sod’s law, guv,’ she said. ‘If we had arrived just sixty seconds later, we’d have cornered him in the yard.’