Just inside the front door was a small cloakroom. He slipped the case under the hand- basin, closed the door and returned to the living-room as Maudie came out of the kitchen carrying a laden tray. 'Find what you were looking for, Andy?' 'No, not a sign,' he said, removing the video from the recorder and fitting it into a capacious inner pocket. 'I reckon you must have chucked it out without noticing. No matter. Are them your Eccles cakes I see? You must've known I was coming. What was it Wally used to say?

Never say nowt good ever came out of Lancashire till you've tasted our Maudie's Eccles cakes!' He seized one, devoured it in a couple of bites, and was on his third when the doorbell rang. 'Who can that be?' said Maudie, with the ever fresh surprise of the northern housewife that someone should be at her door. She went out into the hallway.

Dalziel helped himself to another cake and moved to the lounge doorway to catch the conversation. 'Mrs Tallantire, you may not remember me, but we have met a long time back. Geoffrey Hiller. I was a sergeant up here for a while when your husband was head of CID.' 'Hiller? Now isn't that odd? We were just talking about you. Won't you step inside.

Sergeant? And your friend.' 'Thank you. Actually, it's Deputy Chief Constable now, Mrs Tallantire. Of the South Thames force. And this is Detective-Inspector Stubbs.' 'Ooh, you have done well. Come on through. Andy, it never rains but it pours. Here's another old friend of Wally's come visiting.' Dalziel, back in his chair, looked up in polite puzzlement as the dark-suited man stopped short in the doorway, like a parson accidentally ushered into a brothel. Then the fat man's face lit up with the joy of a father at the prodigal's return and he said, 'Geoff? Is that you? Geoff Hiller, by all that's holy! How are you, lad? What fettle? By God, it's good to see you.' He was on his feet shaking the newcomer's hand like a bushman killing a snake.