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‘Suspecting and having proof, Alan, as you well know, are not the same thing,’ said Ross. ‘And even if we did have irrefutable proof, the CPS would still have to come up with a charge that would stand up in court.’

‘How about theft of a million-pound masterpiece?’ suggested Alan.

‘The legal definition of theft,’ said Rebecca, ‘is dishonestly appropriating property belonging to another with the intention of permanently depriving the other of it. And as the drawing never actually left the building, it wasn’t exactly appropriated – nor have the Fitzmolean been deprived of it.’

‘But what I can’t work out,’ said Alan, sounding genuinely bemused, ‘is if they never had any intention of stealing the drawing, what were they hoping to achieve?’

Ross avoided a question he wasn’t willing to answer with a question of his own, ‘Do you know if Dr Warwick is in her office?’

‘Not at the moment,’ replied Alan. ‘It’s her lunch break. As I told you, Inspector, I offered her my resignation in the hope it would help, but she rejected it out of hand.’

‘It wasn’t your resignation he was after,’ said Ross, and he left the gallery before the head of security could ask who he meant byhe.

•••

‘Where to next?’ asked Danny when the two of them climbed back into the car.

‘Wormwood Scrubs,’ said Ross, as he pulled the door closed.

‘We didn’t learn a lot from that,’ said Rebecca as Danny drove onto Brompton Road.

‘Except that Alan Roberts wasn’t in any way involved, which didn’t come as a surprise, whereas I have no doubt Billy Mumford was. But proving it might not be quite that easy, so don’t be surprised if after the interview I sayhe saw us coming,because one thing’s for sure, Faulkner will have seen him long before us.’

The phone in the armrest began to ring. Ross grabbed it. ‘Hogan,’ he said.

‘We got nowhere with Faulkner,’ William said, unable to hide his frustration. ‘And you?’

‘Didn’t find out a great deal we didn’t already know,’ admitted Ross.

‘Then Mumford is still our best bet,’ said William, before adding, ‘pull his toenails out,’ he paused. ‘Slowly!’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ said Ross. ‘But I will remind him that he’s due out on parole in about a month, and if he’s still hoping …’

‘Let me know how you get on,’ said William.

‘Will do boss,’ replied Ross as the car drew up outside the Scrubs.

The gate had opened even before Ross was able to produce his warrant card, and as they drove into the outer yard, a figure came striding towards them, whom Ross recognized immediately.

‘I haven’t warned Mumford you’re coming,’ said the Governor, after he’d been introduced to Rebecca.

‘He’ll recognize me immediately,’ said Ross, ‘but I’m still hoping to take him by surprise.’

The Governor nodded, turned, and led the two police officers across the barren yard towards Block B.

When the prisoner’s door was opened, Mumford didn’t appear at all surprised to see them, and indeed had a ready reply to the Inspector’s first question.

‘Without a word of a lie, guv, I admit it was me what drew theAngel, but I can promise you,’ he said, ‘the last time I saw her, she was sitting on an easel in the arts and crafts room. I had always promised to give it to the Governor as a farewell present when I left, but then some bugger must have pinched it and run off with her.’ He paused, smiled and said, ‘But then, you have to remember, Inspector, we are in a prison.’

‘Then perhaps you can explain why Miles Faulkner, a fellow prisoner, transferred one thousand pounds to your bank account in Little Hampton shortly before he was released?’ demanded Ross.

‘I sold him a copy of Monet’sWater Lilies, didn’t I?’ said Mumford. ‘With the Governor’s approval, of course.’

Rebecca continued to write down his words, although there wasn’t any doubt he and Faulkner were singing from the same hymn sheet, which had certainly been composed by Booth Watson.

‘He wrote to tell me the picture was hanging in his front room, even sent me a photo.’

It was becoming clear to Ross that every line had been rehearsed, probably in the prison library, only days before Faulkner was released.