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son’s living in it rent free.’
    ‘Oh my God. How the other half lives!’
    ‘Come on, put your tongue back in and stop drooling.’
    They rang the bell but there was no one in.
    D riving along Gower Street, they passed the imposing entrance to the drama school. Sam raised her eyebrows.
    ‘I wonder how he got to study at a place like that?’
    ‘He could be a very talented set designer,’ Geraldine replied with a smile.
    Sam muttered about Zak being born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
    ‘He still has to do the job.’
    ‘Designing theatre sets?’ Sam retorted scornfully.
    ‘Come on, I daresay we’ll find him at home if we call round early in the morning!’
    A rriving back at the station, they went to see the team of detective constables who were checking security cameras in the roads leading to Ashland Place, under the supervision of a sergeant who greeted them with a shrug. He was a solidly built middle-aged officer, satisfied with his rank and the contribution he was able to make to the team.
    ‘I’m no glory grabber,’ he told Geraldine.
    Coming from someone less contented, it might have sounded as if he was sniping at Geraldine for being ambitious. As it was, she understood he was simply stating a fact. She liked the sergeant. He joked that he had only joined the police because of his name.
    ‘S o, Bill, what have you got for us?’ Geraldine asked as they entered the room.
    There was an atmosphere of cheerful industry, with a row of constables all concentrating on screens. The sergeant shook his head.
    ‘Don’t tell us you haven’t found anything. I was relying on you to knock this on the head for us by now.’
    ‘Sorry, Geraldine. I’d have the idiot who left that van there cuffed and locked up, all ready for you, but –’ He raised his pudgy hands in the air. ‘We’ve studied the footage of the crash and you’ll be very interested to know the Porsche didn’t crash into a stationary van as we first thought. It was more complicated than that, because the van was travelling too.’
    ‘The van was moving? Are you sure?’
    ‘Yes. The van drove round the corner and accelerated towards the Porsche. The Porsche slammed on its brakes, but the two vehicles were too close to avoid an almighty collision.’
    G eraldine was shocked. With both vehicles travelling towards each other the impact would have been intensified, which explained why the damage was so extensive.
    ‘We need to know who was driving that van,’ she said.
    ‘We’ve gone through the five minutes immediately following the crash so far, but nothing’s come up. The streets around are completely deserted from every angle. God only knows where the driver disappeared to.’
    ‘Was he in the van when it crashed?’
    ‘Well, we couldn’t see anyone, but there must have been someone in the driver’s seat. The van couldn’t have driven itself round the corner and accelerated towards the Porsche. But it’s impossible to see who’s driving it. We’ve examined every frame. We’ll carry on watching the scene until the taxi driver turns up –’
    ‘Here he comes now,’ one of the team called out. ‘Seven minutes after the crash. The taxi’s arrived.’
    But there was still no sign of the van driver. He had simply vanished.

Chapter 7
    T HE TAXI DRIVER WHO had reported the accident lived in a maisonette downstairs in a Victorian property off Ealing Broadway. The original narrow front garden had been paved over to provide off street parking for his taxi. There was barely space for another vehicle to park behind it. Two scrubby shrubs stood in pots on either side of a white front door. As they approached, they could see the paint was peeling on the door and window frames. Geraldine rang the bell and a few moments later a skinny dark-haired woman opened the door. She looked surprised when Geraldine asked for Bernard Hallam by name.
    ‘Who are you?’ she asked sharply. ‘What do you want with him?’
    G eraldine held up her