Chapter Thirty-Nine

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"Mrs Hawkins?" Stone queried when the door opened.

The middle-aged lady who stood in the doorway nodded. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

"DI Stone," he introduced himself. "This is my partner, DS Burke, may we speak to you?"

"Of course, please come in." Mrs Hawkins guided them to the living room. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I must see to something in the kitchen." Leaving them to seat themselves, she slipped away.

"So, how can I help you, gentlemen?" Sharon Hawkins asked when she returned to the living room, a smudge of flour now decorating her left cheek.

"We'd like to speak to you about your car, if that's alright," Stone told her.

Puzzled, Sharon Hawkins looked at the inspector for a couple of seconds before she responded. "Of course it's alright, inspector, but why do you want to talk to me about my car? I don't even have one at the moment."

It was Stone's turn to look puzzled. His opinion of the DVLA and the police national database, was not exactly positive, but he didn't think it possible that they could have come across two sets of errors in two cases so close together; it stretched the realms of coincidence too far for him. "According to our records, you're the owner of a Renault Clio, registration..." He had to look it up in his notepad. "Y715 CLH. Is that not right?"

"I was," Sharon Hawkins said. "It was stolen about two months ago."

"What happened after that? Was it found?"

"Yes, but it was a write-off; it had been smashed up and set fire to. Fortunately, I have a good insurance company, and the person I dealt with there was very helpful - he took care of everything. The car was taken away and disposed of, and I was offered a hire car until I receive a pay-out and can get myself a new car."

"How was the car disposed of?"

"The insurance company arranged for a scrapyard to take it."

"I don't suppose you know the name of the scrapyard?" Mentally, Stone crossed his fingers.

Sharon Hawkins nodded. "Yes, the insurance company sent me a letter with the details; it didn't really matter to me who the car had gone to, though, so I just put the letter away. Would you like me to get it for you?"

"Thank you."

Sharon Hawkins disappeared from the room, returning barely a minute later with the letter from the insurance company in an envelope that had been neatly sliced open. "Do you mind if I ask why you are interested in my former car?"

Stone nodded as he took the envelope. "The license number of your 'former' car was found on a vehicle that was recently used in a crime. I'm afraid I can't go into details, but I'm sure you understand that we need to investigate how the license number of your car came to be used." He saw the worried look on her face, and spoke quickly to reassure her. "We don't think you were involved in any way - there are a number of ways your license number could have come to be involved, especially with your car having been written off and scrapped."

Sharon Hawkin's relief at learning she was not being considered as a possible suspect was obvious

"Which scrapyard?" Burke asked as his partner read the letter.

"Tredegar's," Stone told him. "I'm guessing someone there has the answer we're after. If we're lucky we might even be able to get there before they close for the day. Thank you, Mrs Hawkins, you've been very helpful."

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