‘It’s that woman who was attacked the first time. The one who had her face cut.’

‘You mean Maggie,’ said Fry.

‘Yes, her,’ said Weenink. ‘Maggie Crew is with them.’

As Ben Cooper walked through the door of the CID room, the phone was already ringing. It was Cheshire Police at last.

‘Your people are back,’ said the DC in Wilmslow. ‘Mr and Mrs Daniels. They had booked a midweek flight to Ringway, so that was lucky. They’ve been to Hawaii, had a great time and they’ve got wonderful suntans. It makes me sick.’

‘When can they come to make an identification?’

‘They’re on their way. They’ll be with you in a couple of hours.’

‘Have they said anything?’

‘Mainly “Aloha” and “Book him, Danno.”’

The Cheshire DC sounded much too cheerful for Cooper’s liking. Policing must be very different in the affluent towns on the plains between the Pennines and Wales to make him so happy in his work.

‘What about their daughter? Did you ask them when they saw her last?’

‘Yes, but it was months ago. They’re upset about what’s happened to her, but not too surprised, it seems to me. They never expected her to come back home when she left. Rosalind said as much to them, in fact. She said she had things she wanted to do with her life, which didn’t involve them. She also said she was going off to find her real mother.’

Cooper frowned. He thought the DC was making another joke. ‘Sorry? What was that?’

‘She’s not the Daniels’ real daughter, apparently. They adopted Rosalind nineteen years ago. Brought her up as their own and all that. But they finally told her she was adopted when she came of age. And, far from showing any gratitude, she seemed to resent them for it, according to Mrs D. It seems Rosalind decided to opt out of the respectable life they had planned for her and got into bad company. She got involved in all sorts of causes, but animal rights was her latest big thing. She’d been in trouble a few times already for her part in some demos that went too far. Direct action, they call it. Trespass, criminal damage – you know the sort of thing. Like Mrs Daniels says herself, “Blood will out.” I thought that was rather an unfortunate turn of phrase myself.’

‘So Ros Daniels was looking for her real mother?’

‘That’s right. What do you think, mate? Do you reckon she ever found her? It would be something at least, before she got killed.’

The women had gathered in the corner of the cattle market car park. They huddled together in a tight circle of anoraks, bending towards each other conspiratorially, with glances towards the buildings behind them and at the PC waiting by the offices.