Anna glanced at the constable. "They're just socks, Brandsford. Cheaper to replace than mend, these days."
"I remember my mother darning socks." PC Mike Brandsford had a misty look in his eyes. "She said us kids would be the death of her."
"Us kids? How many siblings do you have?"
"No siblings, just two brothers and a sister." Mike grinned and used the steering wheel to pull himself upright. "She was right, though. We were the death of her. My brother Simon borrowed her car one night." He used his fingers to put inverted commas over the word 'borrowed'.
"Joy riding? Was he hurt?"
"No, but he ran the petrol down so low she stalled on the high street and got crushed by a Esso tanker."
"That was ironic."
"Aye. The papers said that, too, but it was carrying petrol, not iron."
Anna nodded in the darkness. This time last week she'd been in a high speed chase on the M11. Had she really left the Met for this?