‘I’d been in touch with her before. When we were getting threats. I wanted to tell her that we weren’t the bad guys. That the Animal Vigilantes shouldn’t be targeting us.’

‘Right. We will need a statement from you, but thanks for telling me.’

This was useful. It reinforced my view that the Animal Vigilantes hadn’t hurt Violet or Gary. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with meat. It was connected to some secret about the Pale Child.

‘I realised I should tell you,’ Daniel said. ‘You’re a good person and you’re on the side of the animals. You won’t immediately suspect me just because I was talking to the Animal Vigilantes. I told you because I know I can trust you.’

We arrived back at Daniel’s caravan, and the orange-haired woman strode into view. Dotty, I assumed. She gave me a suspicious look. ‘Police have been and gone. No effort spared. Oh wait, I meant no effort expended.’

‘Good. Okay,’ Daniel said, not picking up on the dig about my esteemed colleagues.

‘We’re getting you protection,’ I said. ‘In the meantime, don’t be alone, okay?’

‘He’s staying with me,’ Dotty said. ‘So do I get a cuppa or what?’

Daniel looked at his caravan. ‘Well, I suppose …’

‘Come on, Dan, don’t be tight.’ Dotty waved her arm at the caravan. ‘Invite us in.’

‘No, I … Sit out here. There are deckchairs.’

‘Hoity-toity, doesn’t want us inside.’ Dotty settled herself on a deckchair that looked to be nearing the end of its natural life.

Daniel sighed and looked at me. ‘Would you like a drink?’

Daniel’s desperation for us not to go inside his caravan had made me equally determined to see inside. I remembered that he hadn’t wanted me to investigate earlier, when I’d noticed the damaged door. ‘Yes please,’ I said.

Daniel slid inside, and I sat on a second moribund deckchair next to Dotty, the plastic mask on my knee. Dotty tutted at the red paint on the caravan. ‘Fuckers.’

I nodded.

‘There’s no way our Daniel’s a bad person,’ she said. ‘Heart of gold, he has. He tries to do his best for the animals. If any of those bastards come back, I’m letting my other dog out, that’ll sort them out. He’s a pit bull.’ She broke off and looked at me. ‘Not a real pit bull – he just looks like one.’

The door of the caravan popped open and Daniel appeared with two mugs of tea.

‘Grand.’ Dotty reached to take one. ‘It’s not that weird milk, is it? What were you doing haring off over the hills anyway?’

‘It’s oat milk, Dotty. Remember? You liked that.’ Daniel perched on a rock from one of his ruined art installations.

‘Don’t you drink milk?’ I said.

‘No, I don’t have meat or dairy.’