Our county had a starring role in BBC show The Gold, which had millions of people hooked - and a second series has just been confirmed. Here, KentOnline takes a look at the main talking points and separates the fact from the fiction.

The show is a re-telling of one of the nation's biggest ever crimes - the theft of £26 million of gold from the Brink's-Mat warehouse in Heathrow and how the criminal gang behind it turned their ill-gotten gains into hard cash - as well as the huge police hunt to track them down.

But who was the real Kenneth Noye? Is it true there are remnants of the stolen gold in jewellery we all wear today? And were Kent Police really untrustworthy? We try and answer the burning questions... (warning: there may be some spoilers ahead)

In The Gold, Kenneth Noye comes across as a nice bloke - is that what he's really like?

There is no denying Kenneth Noye knew how to endear himself to many. As one former Kent Police chief told KentOnline, "he could be as charming as they come". But it was a veil of respectability which cloaked a dark heart.

Noye, who at the time lived in West Kingsdown, was a key figure in turning the Brink's-Mat gold into hard cash - a man with good contacts and the ability to, for the most part, conceal his tracks.

However, his luck ran out when he admitted to killing DC John Fordham after finding him in the grounds of his home. Fordham had been part of a surveillance team involved in the Brink's-Mat investigation. Charged with murder, he was cleared by a jury on the grounds of self-defence. He would, however, go on to be jailed for his role in handling the stolen bullion.

Perhaps even more notorious, in 1996 he stabbed and killed Dartford electrician Stephen Cameron on a slip-road of the M25 at Swanley in what, at the time,was dubbed the M25 road rage murder. He fled the country and evaded arrest for two years before finally being tracked down in Spain. He served 20 years behind bars before being released in 2019.

In The Gold, he's portrayed - by actor Jack Lowden - as something of a loveable rogue.

Speaking to KentOnline, retired Detective Superintendent Nick Biddiss - the man who put Noye behind bars for the Cameron murder - is less than impressed.

He explained: "What is being portrayed in this programme is that he's some latter day Robin Hood - a jolly fellow, wouldn't harm anybody, kind to his neighbours and looks after the elderly residents in his village. Well, the Krays used to do that but woe betide you if you crossed them.

"He's a vicious individual. Look at when he's found guilty of handling the stolen gold and tells the jury he hopes they all get cancer. He's not a particularly nice individual, but he's being portrayed in this drama as something quite different.

"My view is he should still be inside. My view is you don't come out of prison if you commit murder unless it's in a wooden box.

"Noye struck me as one of these guys who was an absolute charmer, good looking, but if someone upset him, then they would have to pay the consequences."

It's a view echoed by Stephen Cameron's uncle, Gary Cameron, who told MailOnline: "The BBC has made Noye out to be some kind of good guy when he is a cold-blooded murderer.

"I watched the first episode and was disgusted when I saw they have portrayed him as a nice guy, some sort of loveable rogue, which is completely wrong. The man is a villain who is a ruthless double killer."

Noye, on the other hand, is said to be "over the moon" at how he has been portrayed in the BBC series.

Was Noye really a police informer?

There are various conflicting reports about Noye's role as a police informant and one which cannot be separated from his uncanny ability to make friends and connections with people in all the right places for both his legitimate - and illegitimate - business interests.

The fact is that Noye was a polished, charismatic, businessman who had made a small fortune during his career before the Brinks-Mat gold hove into view. Born and raised in Bexleyheath, he first trained as a printer, breaking into the then-well paid industry in Fleet Street. He worked night shifts, supplementing his income with truck driving during the day. He worked hard in pursuit of money.

He left the print world to start his own haulage company in West Kingsdown, before expanding with building companies and getting involved in property deals - one of which reportedly netted him £300,000. That figure would be akin to in excess of £1 million today.

He was not adverse to criminality - using his haulage company to shift stolen goods. Such a role, when it comes to crime, is known in criminal slang as being a "fence" - in other words, knowingly buying stolen goods and selling them on for profit.

As to how much of his wealth was accrued through legitimate means is open to interpretation. Ex-Det Supt Nick Biddiss is clear in his mind: "He's never done an honest day's work in his life, I don't think.

"He set up these businesses, but I just think it was a front to his criminality." Noye may disagree.

His insatiable lust for money - he had multiple jobs as a teenager in order to keep cash flowing into his hands - had seen him on the wrong end of the law as a youngster on numerous occasions. But what he soon realised was that many of the police, at the time, were just as keen to make a few bob through "unofficial channels" as he was.

The upshot was that he became aware of the value of having cordial relationships with police officers if it could work to his benefit. Did it get as much as playing darts with cops in their workplace as depicted in The Gold? Probably not, but, unsurprisingly, few police would put themselves forward as having such a close relationship with a man of such dubious background.

Explains another former senior Kent police chief who nicked Noye on three occasions prior to the Brinks-Mat heist: "Kenny was a staunch informant. He paid heavy. But he'd only give you something if he thought he was going to be banged up himself. It was only if he was going to benefit somehow."

So yes, he was an informer. But very much in the sense that he was in control of the situation and only as and when it made sound business sense for him.

Just what were his relationships with the police and how big a role did Freemasonry play?

While Noye was, at times, a violent and domineering character, his strength was his ability to win over people with his manner. He dressed well and could reach across the social divide to endear himself to any number of people across the social spectrum. All this sat upon a, frankly, frightening hard-man personality beneath.

To give an indication of his ability to win people over in any given situation from an early age, he met his future wife, Brenda, while waiting to speak to his barrister for advice on an assault charge. She worked in the barrister's office. The pair dated for six years before tying the knot.

As for the police, perhaps not surprisingly, no former cops have come out and admitted to a friendship with Noye.

But, speaking in a recent book - A Million Ways To Stay On The Run - he explained how corruption could be achieved.

He explained: "Back in the 1970s, a minor crime would be ­disappeared or resolved with a £1,000 or £1,500 bung, but if it was a big job you are talking much more.

“Then, a grand was a lot of money. There was a lot of fitting up and a lot of money given to keep out of jail. If you were lifted for an armed robbery that pulled half a million, you might have to pay £50,000.”

He added officers would "turn a blind eye, they might lose files, find ­evidence, lose evidence”.

What is believed to be the case is that when Noye joined the Hammersmith Freemasons' Lodge in London, among its members were several serving police officers. In addition, the lodge was frequented by bullion and precious metal dealers - all valuable contacts for a man with Noye's diverse interests.

Freemasonry is, by its very nature, a rather secretive organisation. Were leading police officers freemasons at the time of the investigation? Almost certainly. Did they help tip off the crooks as the investigation evolved? That's open to debate, but it is possible.

He was also wise to the practice of interview tampering - sometimes deployed by police in an era before all questioning was taped. He would insist a line was drawn at the end of each handwritten note to ensure nothing could be added later. A tip from a friend perhaps.

And, as depicted in the programme, when having a private conversation with Boyce while awaiting trial over the death of John Fordham, the detective claims Noye attempted to pay him off. Boyce - a famously straight copper who rallied against corruption - told the court he was offered £1m "in a bank anywhere in the world I instructed" by Noye if he allowed him to avoid prison. Noye denied any offer was made.

Was Kent Police corrupt at the time?

Policing has changed a great deal over the last 40 years. From the rough 'em up approach - as depicted in previous TV shows such as Life of Mars and Ashes to Ashes - of the 1970s and 1980s to a far more disciplined and "by the book" method today.

Kent Police is portrayed in The Gold as a leaky organisation where the Flying Squad team leading the investigation has to keep its cards close to its chest amid fears officers in the county will talk and word would get back to the suspects - thus scuppering their investigation.

That the accusations come from the Met Police is, it would seem, a little rich given the issues it also had at the time. But the key to remember is this was a fictional account of a real-life crime and certain liberties were taken for dramatic purpose. The Met did, however, certainly keep details of its operation in the county from the local force.

Retired Detective Inspector Ken Tappenden was commander of an area which covered West Kingsdown when John Fordham was killed during surveillance of Noye's home.

He explained:"Neither myself or the head of CID knew the Met were on our turf that night. The first we knew is when we discovered we had a death on our hands.

"It caused a hell of a stink."

Says Nick Biddiss: "Because Noye lived in Kent, they thought he might have some local police officers in his pocket.

"This drama suggests you can't trust Kent Police - which is a bloody cheek. Let's be honest, there are corrupt officers in any force - I'm not saying we're all whiter than white.

"But generally speaking, is there institutionised corruption? No. But was there noble cause corruption [using unethical means to achieve a result that was seen to benefit the greater good]? Probably. But the Met were probably past masters of it."

Did the jury in the John Fordham case really visit Noye's home at night?

Yes they did - an episode which one book on the subject describes as "one of the most bizarre settings in legal history".

In the dark and heavy rain, and watched by a gaggle of TV crews and reporters - around 30 it is estimated - the court was re-convened in the garden. The bowler hat-wearing judge led the jury through the grounds after the defence barrister had complained pictures show in court - taken during the daylight - did not accurately reflect what Noye encountered on the fateful evening.

Did Palmer and Noye remain close despite John 'Goldfinger' Palmer's acquittal?

They certainly did. In fact Palmer - whose personal wealth by the turn of the century was a staggering £300m (making him as wealthy as the Queen at the time) - was instrumental in helping Noye flee the country following his fatal stabbing of Stephen Cameron on the M25 slip-road in 1996. He called his old Brink's-Mat chum who immediately offered him refuge at his home in Bath while a private jet was readied

According to a book published recently, in which Noye explained how he evaded capture, Palmer arranged for a helicopter to get him across the Channel. Noye then travelled in a private jet out of Paris, then to Madrid and Tenerife. He was eventually captured in Spain, two years later, after confounding police - led by Nick Biddiss - who were searching for him.

Did the makers of The Gold film in Kent?

Yes they did - at a property in West Kingsdown. In fact, while unconfirmed, the property doubling up as Kenny Noye's property looks remarkably similar, both externally and internally, to his real former home.

In fact, even the aerial picture detective Brian Boyce is seen showing his team prior to a surveillance operation appears to be Noye's actual house as it was at the time.

Kent Film Office, which helps facilitate filming in the county, failed to respond when approached to confirm or deny.

The property, built by Noye, was originally called Hollywood Cottage - a rather modest name for a sprawling six-bedroom, mock-Tudor fronted property which features its own indoor swimming pool.

It is claimed that during the Second World War, Britain’s Special Operations Executive (SOE), which controlled pro-Allied resistance groups across Europe, had used the house then standing on the site for storing secret equipment.

There were thought to be numerous underground bunkers and tunnels below the buildings foundations. However, when police checked they found no evidence.

Now renamed, the property was up for sale in 2018 with an asking price of £2.8m. The property, set in 20 acres, also includes a tennis court and outbuildings.

A search of the house at the time of Noye's arrest unearthed copper coins like those used to mix with gold in the smelting process and 11 crudely recast gold bars. There was also a copy of the Guinness Book of World Records with the heist circled at Britain's largest.

As police continued to search the property, secret compartments with cash and other stolen goods were recovered.

Further cash was later found in the woods behind homes where members of Noye's family lived in West Kingsdown. Discovered in a Marks and Spencer carrier bag by a neighbour, they immediately took it to police searching Hollywood Cottage.

Who were the two detectives who worked alongside DCS Brian Boyce (played by Hugh Bonneville)?

Viewers of The Gold will be only too familiar with the characters of Nicki Jennings (portrayed by Charlotte Spencer) and her colleague Tony Brightwell (Emun Elliott).

Detective Nicki Jennings is an entirely fictional character. However, Tony Brightwell was one of the first detectives on the scene of the crime and was key in securing a confession from Anthony Black - the Brink's-Mat guard who was the 'inside man' and assisted the gang's entrance into the secure unit. He went on to play a key role in the investigations.

What about the role of solicitor Edwyn Cooper (portrayed by Dominic Cooper)

Edwyn Cooper didn't exist in the Brink's-Mat case...but the character is based loosely on Michael Relton who would prove to be key in the police unravelling the extent of the money laundering operation behind the case.

Actor Dominic Cooper described his role as "a composite character inspired by the white collar criminals who worked with the robbers and their intermediaries".

Relton was a solicitor who had been informally appointed by Brian Perry (who does not feature in The Gold but was a key player) to build a financial empire with Micky McAvoy's share of the gold. McAvoy (played by Adam Nagaitis) was one of the original gang which stole the gold but was arrested within weeks after the guard acting as the gang's inside man identified him to police.

McAvoy had tasked Perry with looking after his share of the gold. Perry had other plans and decided, given his friend's incarceration, to make hay with it. He even struck up a relationship with McAvoy's wife. Much, as you can imagine, to McAvoy's chagrin. Much of that aspect of the crime is not covered in The Gold.

Solicitor Relton was ultimately jailed for 12 years for his role in the money laundering process.

Gordon Parry, a key money launderer, portrayed by Sean Harris in The Gold, went on the run to Spain but was eventually caught and jailed in 1992. He was sentenced to 10 years behind bars. A property developer from Westerham, following the raid he is said to have purchased the 15th century Crockham House in Westerham where he promptly installed gold-plated taps.

When the Grade II-listed, seven-bedroom property was on the market two years ago, it carried a price-tag of £3.5m.

Is it true any gold jewellery bought since 1983 has traces of the stolen Brinks-Mat gold in it?

This is a great line - and one which demonstrates the sheer scale of the robbery. But it is one of those impossible-to-prove claims.

Often cited, the reality is that such was the enormity of the amount of gold stolen (equivalent in today's value of more than £80m) it had an impact on the markets. The loss of such an amount of the precious metal drove the price up almost immediately. In fact the £26m of gold stolen was worth an extra £1m within 24 hours.

As for it possibly being in that ring on your finger or necklace?

Well, in truth, there's no concrete evidence of that. But it is possible. The gold was smelted down and mixed with other metals to disguise it (the Brink's-Mat gold stolen was 99.99% pure gold) and then stamped with false authenticity and sold back into the market. At that stage it becomes almost untraceable.

In addition, it is not unusual for gold jewellery to be melted down and reformed - potentially spreading the remnants of the gold yet further.

It is not impossible, therefore, the gold was ultimately spread so far and wide that some of the gold in the ring on your finger may have, 40 years ago, have been loaded into a van by six armed robbers.

And, finally, what happened to the other half of the gold?

Now, if we knew the answer to that, it would unlock the last great mystery of one of the biggest raids in British history.

The smart money is on it already have been moved around the world, smelted down and the proceeds "washed" by the buying the selling of property or investments.

The chances of finally tracking it down and answering the question gets less likely with every passing year.