They laughed a bit together, and then he asked: ‘Can I ask you a favour? Can I borrow a phone to ring my daughter?’

The woman hesitated.

‘You see, I’ve not seen her for thirty years. She wouldn’t come to visit me. You know, inside. I’ll give you a pound.’ He set down the coin.

The blonde nodded. ‘Okay, so long as it’s not international.’ She handed her own phone to him. He had no idea what to do with the sleek black glossy device. There were no obvious buttons.

‘Could you dial it for me?’ he asked.

She seated him at a small desk towards the back of the shop and tapped out the number he gave her, before passing the device to him and walking away. His heart raced as the number rang out. The phone was picked up, and a familiar voice came on the line.

‘Susan, it’s me, your dad. Susan? I just wanted—’

A few minutes later, the blond woman looked up and saw the man moving towards the door of the shop. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘I left your phone on the desk. Thank you.’

‘So how is your daughter?’

‘Ah, she’s doing grand. Her job is going well, and she’s got a house on the new estate. My granddaughter’s going to big school next term. I’m looking forward to seeing her for the first time.’

‘Ah, that’s lovely. I bet you can’t wait to be back with them,’ she said.

‘Yes, it will be great.’

She watched him go, and then looked back at her phone. She checked the call to make sure he wasn’t one of those scammers who use the opportunity to ring a premium phone line. The number was a conventional landline. But her brow furrowed as she saw the call duration.

Four seconds.

On his way back to the bus station, he had a stroke of luck. He found a phone box that took coins, and took full advantage of it with three quick calls: a message left on the answerphone of Mrs Daphne Cooper, 73, a second on the mobile of Mr George Harvey, 78, and finally, a call to Mrs Rita Hollingsworth, 82, now in a hospice.

That call was picked up by her son, David. He listened, shocked, to what was said to him. ‘If this is some kind of joke, I don’t think it’s very funny,’ David said, slamming the phone down. All the families of the victims had suffered prank calls, anonymous letters and various other nuisances during the early years. News that the murderer was to be released seemed to be restarting the torment, this time on social media through a series of insensitive tweets and Facebook memes.