As Kate clocked the condolence cards still propped up on every surface, it was clear that Mrs Daniels hadn’t moved on from that night in 2015 either.

Kate had suggested that Finn wait in the car while she spoke with Willow’s parents. Although she had no jurisdiction or right to speak with them about their daughter’s murder, he had even less right, and it didn’t feel fair to lie to the family about who he was and why he was there.

Mrs Daniels carried the cup and saucer of tea through from the kitchen, and rested it on a coaster on the dining table near where Kate was sitting. ‘Do you take sugar?’

‘Thanks, no,’ Kate said.

‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Mrs Daniels asked, placing a cigarette between her lips and lighting up with a trembling hand before Kate had a chance to answer.

‘It’s your house,’ Kate replied, leaning back to try and avoid as much of the smoke as possible.

Mrs Daniels inhaled deeply, exhaling smoke towards the small open window over her shoulder.

‘How have you been keeping?’ Kate asked. She’d first met Willow’s parents two months after the murder, when she was linking Steph and Roxie’s murders with Willow’s. She’d tried to keep them updated, but following Amy’s murder, Kate had been banned from making contact with anyone related to the cases.

Mrs Daniels puffed on the cigarette. ‘I have good days and bad days. Most mornings I wake up still expecting to hear her voice. She was terrible at getting up for work in the morning, and it would take me several attempts most days. It used to drive me nuts, but I’d give anything to go back to those mornings now.’ She dabbed the cigarette against the ashtray. ‘It’s funny, innit, the silly things we miss when they’re snatched away from us?’

‘Mr Daniels isn’t home today?’

‘Nah, he was back at work within a month of it happening. We’ve had many a row about him burying his feelings. At first I thought he was avoiding grieving properly, but then I learned that was how he needed to cope, to survive.’

‘Does he still work for the council?’

‘He’s still in social care, if that’s what you mean? I don’t know how he does it sometimes. Some of the stories he tells me about what some parents do to their kids… it makes what happened to our Willow even crueller. We was good parents, and she was a good girl. Nobody had a bad word to say against her. Yet there are other people out there who treat their kids like shit, and they can continue with their lives.’

‘Did you see the Crimewatch re-enactment on Thursday night?’

She flicked more ash into the glass dish. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to watch it. Pete did, but it would just bring it all up again. Did they mention Willow much?’

In truth, the murders of Willow, Roxie and Steph had been slightly glossed over, but she didn’t need to hear that.

Kate nodded. ‘They’re hoping by focusing on the most recent crime that someone will come forward with information that will tie the killer back to the other murders. Are you still attending the victim-support group you were going to?’

‘Nah, gave that up last year. It was too difficult to get to the community centre every week, what with Pete going back to work. I wasn’t getting much out of it anyway.’

Kate took a sip of her tea, trying to work out how to phrase her next question. ‘I want you to know, Mrs Daniels, that I haven’t given up hope of finding your daughter’s killer. If it takes me the rest of my life, I will catch the person responsible.’

Mrs Daniels squashed her cigarette into the ashtray and placed her cold hand over Kate’s. ‘I don’t doubt it, love. I was shocked when I heard they’d kicked you off the investigation. I said to my Pete they were making a mistake, but nobody cared what we thought. You was the only one who seemed to care about our Willow. After that young detective got killed, she became their main focus. We’ve heard hide nor hair this past year.’

‘I’m surprised to hear that. Did anyone come and speak to you before the Crimewatch programme?’

‘Some lad in uniform, who looked like he should be in school, came here and interviewed us, not that it did any good. We wasn’t able to tell him anything we hadn’t said a hundred times before.’

Kate unlocked her phone and slid the image of Gavin Isbitt across the table. ‘Do you recognise the man in this photograph, Mrs Daniels?’

She glanced at the phone. ‘Hang on a tick, I’ll need my glasses.’ She left the room.

Kate was taking a huge chance in showing her the photograph Laura had sent through, but if Mrs Daniels could identify him as someone in Willow’s life, it would put Kate a step closer to nailing him.

Mrs Daniels returned, wearing a pair of bifocals with a colourful cord around her neck. She lifted the phone into the light and squinted as she scrutinised it. ‘No, love, sorry, I don’t recognise him,’ she said, as she offered the phone back.

‘Please, Mrs Daniels, look again. I have reason to believe this man may – and I use the word cautiously – be the man who attacked Willow that night.’

Mrs Daniels studied the image again. ‘Who is he?’

‘I’m not at liberty to divulge his name at this time. I just need to know whether you can remember seeing him around the time that Willow was killed, or whether Willow mentioned or described someone like him.’

She passed the phone back, the face now committed to memory. She retook her seat and removed the glasses, allowing them to hang from their cord. ‘How sure are you that he did it?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Daniels, I’m not at liberty—’

Mrs Daniels waved her hand as if she’d heard the excuse a hundred times before. Reaching for her cigarette packet, she lit up a second. ‘Let me put it this way, if I was to say that I’d seen him hanging about the place, would that give you what you need to arrest him?’

Kate didn’t like the way the question had been phrased. ‘Are you saying you did see him?’

‘I think so… if I say yes, does that help you?’

As much as Kate wanted him caught, she had to be sure and she had to do it by the book.

‘I can’t answer your question, Mrs Daniels. I’m sorry, but either you do or you don’t recognise him. I can’t influence that.’

Mrs Daniels took several puffs of the cigarette, her eyes studying Kate, looking for any kind of sign. Kate kept her expression as neutral as she could, determined not to offer even a flicker, even though she desperately hoped for affirmation.

Mrs Daniels tapped the ash into the dish. ‘Yeah, I recognise him.’

Kate’s eyes widened. ‘You’re sure?’

She nodded.

Kate wasn’t convinced. ‘Mrs Daniels, I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear. You have to be certain. If this ever went to trial, you would be required to swear an oath and confirm what you’ve told me in front of a jury. Where did you see him?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, it was more than a year ago.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Daniels, but that isn’t good enough. If you recognise him, you must remember from where.’

‘Must have seen him hanging around the gym where Willow worked.’

Kate pulled out her notepad and scribbled the questions and responses down, even though she suspected Mrs Daniels would have confirmed anyone’s identity to see someone convicted. ‘And when would this have been?’

‘Now you’re asking too much! I’m lucky if I can remember what I had for lunch yesterday. It would have been in the fortnight prior to her death.’

Kate made a note to call the gym and ask to see their security-camera footage from the period, if indeed they still had copies. She was sure Armitage’s task force probably had copies from her original investigation, but there was no chance she’d get her hands on that.

Mrs Daniels finished and extinguished the cigarette. ‘Well? Are you going to tell me who the bloke is then?’

‘I need to chase a couple of other things down first. But I promise you’ll be the first to know when I have something concrete.’

Kate stood, eager to be on her way, and headed to the front door. Mrs Daniels looked at her with a glimmer of renewed hope, before gently closing the door behind her. As she wandered back to the car, Kate reflected on Willow’s mother’s desperation to identify Isbitt. In a way, she could understand exactly why Mrs Daniels had so urgently wanted to pin her daughter’s murder on someone. It seemed everyone was after the same thing: closure.