She skirted the narrow room, ignoring leers from two of the younger businessmen, catching the eye of the girl behind the bar, who came over with a smile. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Just some assistance for now.’ Hawkins showed her warrant card, relieved that the barmaid’s expression didn’t cloud, the way a city-based worker’s might. She produced the victims’ photographs. ‘Do you remember serving any of these men? It would have been about a month and a half ago.’

The barmaid studied each picture, one hand twisting at the brightly coloured silk scarf around her neck. ‘I don’t normally forget a face, and these three aren’t familiar. I’m not here that often, though. Let me give the others a shout.’

She retreated to the back of the bar, revealing a pair of leopard-print ankle boots, and leaned out through a door to shout up the stairs. ‘Pops!’

Then she disappeared briefly, to resurface beside her colleague, who was propped on the back of a chair, still holding the card terminal and chatting to the group of women.

The two girls returned to the bar. Seeing the two side by side, it was obvious they were related, despite the younger girl’s slightly deeper tan, which explained the bright blue T-shirt that said Jet Lag Is For Amateurs. They were joined by a tanned gentleman in his fifties, with workman’s hands and neatly trimmed white hair, who emerged behind the bar holding an old cloth.

‘Tony Ascott. Landlord. I won’t shake hands.’ He smiled, exhibiting oily fingers. ‘Looks like you’ve met my lovely daughters, Kati and Anna. What can we do for you?’

Hawkins introduced herself and Frank to the newcomers and passed around the victims’ photos, receiving further negative responses from the new arrivals. She handed the pictures to Frank, turning back to their hosts. ‘We’re also looking for a local farmer by the name of Benjamin Albone. Is he in tonight?’

‘Sorry, I don’t know. I’ve been upstairs, rewiring the starter motor for my old Norton.’ Tony looked at Frank, clearly expecting some kind of mechanical kinship; receiving none.

‘Bloody bikes.’ Anna elbowed him playfully. ‘He’s always upstairs tinkering, while we’re down here doing all the work.’ She laughed.

Kati nodded. ‘He’s obsessed,’ turning to her sister, ‘I caught him on eBay last night, buying another flipping BSA! Where’s that going to live?’ But her sibling was already addressing their visitors.

‘Benjamin’s here most nights.’ Anna pointed back through the archway. ‘Always last to leave. He can be a bit hands-on, but he’s harmless really. He’s probably outside having a smoke, or round in the snug.’