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“It means that the majority of them are just normal cars, five years old or more, nothing fancy. I’ve rung around the other stations in the area and there’s a handful of other cases that could well be connected. We just don’t have much to go on.”

“Stealing normal cars doesn’t seem that profitable,” Tilly said.

“You’d think. But they’re being stolen for parts, in all probability. There’s money in that, money in scrapping them even. And it’s easier to steal something old than something new. You keep a close eye on your new Porsche, but you don’t on your old Ford.”

“True,” Tilly said. “And there’s really nothing to go on?”

“Nope,” Max said. “The thefts are centered around Whitebridge, so I’m thinking that someone in the local area must know something. But so far, we’ve got zip. I keep hoping for a CCTV camera to catch something, or a fingerprint, anything really. It’s a real dead end, though.”

“Sounds frustrating.”

Max laughed. “You know, when I was a kid, I thought being a policeman would mean car chases and bringing gangsters bang to rights. As it turns out, it’s mostly paperwork and finding lost cats. Not that I mind.” He grinned at her. “I’ve got a family to look after now. I’m pretty happy that Whitebridge is so quiet.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was quiet,” Tilly said. She was busy thinking. Car theft? What did she know about car theft? If she was in charge of the investigation, where would she be looking? If she could make a case for herself, maybe Max would let her take charge of this car theft ring business.

“Come on then,” Max said. “Best be getting on with things. I’d like you to come up with me, have a fresh pair of eyes on the business. Maybe you’ll notice something that I’ve missed.”

Maybe she would, she thought, as she followed him out of the station. Max pulled a big set of keys out of his pocket and locked the front door before leading Tilly to the squad car and tossing the keys to her.

“You want me to drive?” she asked.

“Are you trained?”

“Yes,” she said. “But… well, most male officers don’t like a female constable driving them, sir. That’s all.”

“Tosh,” Max said. “Get in and drive. It’ll give me time to digest my tea. Now, tell me all about this choir. Who showed up?”

“Half the village,” Tilly said, starting the engine. “And maybe you should join yourself.”

“Oh no,” Max said. “I’ve got far too much going on with…” He trailed off, cleared his throat. “I’ve got far too much going on at home.”

Tilly felt an awkwardness there, so she didn’t pursue the subject. Besides, she was driving past the village hall and that reminded her of Sophie and then she was busy smiling her secret smile.

Chapter Nine

“If you bolt your tea like that, you’re going to get indigestion,” Paul Farmer said.

“Dad, I’m not five,” said Sophie, stabbing three chips with her fork.

“Then stop eating like it,” retorted her father.

“I’m just in a hurry. I’ve got choir rehearsal.” She felt a shuddering down her back when she said this. Nothing to do with the thought of singing.

“Oh, do you indeed?” Her father sniffed and considered a chip. “I might pop by myself one of these days and give the old vocal chords a work-out.”

“Dad!” said Sophie in horror. Then he winked, and she saw that he was joking. “Don’t tease. Did you get those invoices sorted?”

“Yeah,” said her dad. “Gio, what about that Renault? Could you patch the muffler or not?”

A clear change of subject then, which was fine by her. She stabbed another chip, chewed, swallowed, then got up. “Sorry, boys. I’ve got to get ready. Gio can clear the table, right, dad?”

“Right,” said her dad.

Sophie went back upstairs, thinking how quickly she’d reverted to her old ways once she’d come home. It was all very well for her dad to tell her that she wasn’t five, but sometimes it seemed like it.

It wasn’t healthy for grown adults to live with their parents like this. But then, she didn’t exactly have many options. Not many that would still allow her to make sure everyone was okay and work at the garage.

So maybe, the voice in her head said, you should work somewhere else.