“Seems to be. I’ve just found this.”
She gave it the once over. “Where?”
“In the middle of that lot.” He glanced at Spike. “He was guarding it.”
“Looks expensive,” said Wendy, “is it locked?”
“Yes. Must be something important because it has numbered codes and keys, but I couldn’t find them.”
A dark expression crossed Wendy’s features. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the hit and run, do you?”
Alan Braithwaite stared at her. “It crossed my mind.”
Wendy Higgins had her phone out, dialling 999.
Chapter Eight
Two further days passed without any useful information coming to light, and nothing positive from the discovery of the attaché case. Gardener and Reilly were sitting in the incident room sorting through witness statements amounting to very little, when Patrick Edwards and Paul Benson found them.
“How’s it going with the statements, sir?” asked Edwards.
“Slowly, Patrick,” replied Gardener. “The only positive we have is that three separate witnesses have confirmed the presence of the 4x4 in the village within the time range.”
“They all say the same thing,” added Reilly. “It was white. The engine was running. Four people were inside – although one couple said the occupants appeared to be arguing with each other.”
“No one remembers a registration,” said Gardener. “How have you two got on?”
“We’ve actually managed to pick up the tyre tread pattern,” said Edwards.
“Both from the scene of the collision,” offered Paul Benson, “and the grass verge where the vehicle hit the railings. There was enough of a print for the tech guys to come up with something.”
“That sounds positive,” said Reilly.
“Not as much as you think,” replied Edwards. “We know it’s a 4x4. The search narrowed the tyres down to possibly an Overfinch.”
“A what?”
“A Range Rover,” replied Benson. “From that we’ve discovered that they were fitted to thirty-five million vehicles worldwide. Only three million were sold in this country but it’s still like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Gardener sighed. “But at least it’s something. Do we know the make of the tyres?”
“Yes,” replied Benson. “It was a Goodyear Wrangler, but they also fitted Michelin and Bridgestone to some of the vehicles so that might help to narrow it down again.”
“What about the paint scrapings?” Gardener asked.
“It helped, but there are still over five hundred thousand to comb through, with no idea where it was bought. We don’t have a registration, or even a partial one.”
“Good luck with that one,” said Reilly.
“Are there any registered in this area?” asked Gardener.
“No,” replied Benson. “Not white ones an
yway.”
As Edwards and Benson were discussing their find, Gates and Longstaff entered the room. Both were laughing and chattering. Each of them held a bottle of coke in one hand and a Mars bar in the other.
Reilly jumped up. “Now we’re talking, girls.”