13
Steve Wing was particularly proud of his BMW 3 Series. It was a car he’d wanted for a long time, and even though he’d now had it for three years or so, it still felt like a brand new car to him. It also meant he didn’t have to walk anywhere, which was nice.
The journey from Mildenheath Police Station to Tanya Henderson’s house took a little longer than usual with the morning traffic, and it seemed even longer due to the fact that Ryan apparently wasn’t the sort of person to make small talk unless she absolutely had to.
‘So. You into cars?’ Steve asked as he pulled on the handbrake at a set of traffic lights.
‘Not really.’
Steve nodded. ‘You drive?’
‘I can, but I don’t.’
‘How do you get to work then?’ he asked.
‘Bike.’
Steve could see he was getting nowhere fast. ‘You mean a mot
