‘Who might they be?’
‘Crossland Garage. Bryant Street. You know it?’
‘Can’t say I do.’
‘Very reliable. Very nice fellas. Gavin Crossland and his mate whose name I can never remember. Like the polar explorer guy.’
Hannah had no idea what he was talking about, and no desire to pursue it.
‘Thank you, Mr Parkes,’ she said. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
Helpful in using up a big chunk of day I’ll never get back, she thought.
‘That’s it? You just wanted to ask about my holiday?’
‘As I say, this was just a routine call.’
‘I took pictures. You want to see them? There’s a pool and everything. Okay, I have to share it, but in October it’s very quiet, and—’
‘Goodbye, Mr Parkes.’ And she hung up.
She brought her pen to his name, ready to cross it off her list.
Would you be happy, she asked herself, if one of your team left it at that?
Check out every story. And then double-check.
She googled Crossland Garage and found a phone number. She called it.
‘Crossland Garage.’
‘Hello. It’s Stockford Police here. Detective Inspector Hannah Washington. Is that Mr Crossland?’
‘It is.’
‘Just a quick question or two, Mr Crossland. We’re trying to trace a Toyota Avensis that may have been used in a crime recently, and I believe you fixed one last weekend. Is that correct?’
‘Yup.’
Thank God for conciseness, she thought.
‘Could you confirm when it was that it was brought in and how long you had it for?’
‘Let me think . . . We picked it up Friday. Took it back Tuesday.’
‘Do you normally keep cars for so long?’
‘Not normally, but the owner had gone away on holiday.’
‘Is there any possibility that the vehicle could have been used without your knowledge over the weekend? I’m thinking of Sunday in particular.’
‘No. We’re closed on Sundays, and the car was locked up in the garage. Safe as houses here.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely. Wouldn’t have mattered anyway.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The car’s gearbox was knackered. We had to tow it here. Didn’t fix it till Monday. Before then there’s no way it could be driven.’
‘Thank you, Mr Crossland. You’ve been very helpful.’
‘No problem.’
She ended the call. Looked again at her list. Crossed off Mr Parkes.
Better luck next time, she thought.
Scott Timpson couldn’t believe his luck.
She hadn’t recognised his voice.
But then why would she? They’d had one short conversation at the beginning of the week. She’s probably spoken to hundreds of people since then, he thought. Probably doesn’t even remember my name or what I look like.
But what if Gavin had answered? He might have dropped me in it by saying the car had already been fixed before Sunday.
Definitely a lucky escape there.
