The figure is indifferent to the biting wind now, rat poison curtailing the elderly man’s existence high up on Saddleworth Moor.
He possessed no identification but cctv at Manchester Piccadilly and metal in his leg from Pakistan completed the jigsaw, but only to a degree.
He had lived in Pakistan for a decade but then hurried back to England. He was religious yet deserted by God in his final hours.
Who knows what secrets and demons lie and fester in the frightening, lonely land of the soul and why he travelled from bustling Lahore to stare sightlessly on Saddleworth Moor?