By the time the small, high-up cell window turned from dark to light with the coming of the dawn, my hand and I were far better acquainted than we had ever been, with a much stronger mental bond, at least on my side.

A while later, the door of the cell was opened and a young uniformed policeman brought in a cup of tea and a toasted bacon sandwich for my breakfast.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘What’s the time?’

‘Seven o’clock,’ he replied.

There seemed no point in asking him anything else. I would simply have to wait.

‘I’ve put tomato ketchup in the sandwich,’ he said. ‘I hope that’s okay.’

‘Lovely.’

He went out and slammed the door shut again.

I drank the tea and ate the sandwich, the tomato ketchup oozing out of the sides as I bit into it. I stopped eating and stared at the escaped droplets of bright-red sauce and, for the first time in the three years since I’d received them, I licked my left fingers clean.

It was a moment of true awakening, and it almost had me in tears.

‘Mr Halley, we would like you to unlock your mobile phone.’

I was sitting at a table in a brightly lit interview room with two plainclothes detective constables sitting opposite, one of whom had just spoken.

They had already dealt with the usual introductions for the audio and video recordings, and I had been cautioned once again.

On my side of the table, next to me, was a solicitor, Geoffrey Swaby, from Leeds, the one organised by Charles.

Geoffrey and I had met briefly before the interview had started. He advised me to say nothing and reply ‘no comment’ to every question asked, other than to give my name.

‘But that makes me look guilty.’

‘It’s still the best policy.’

I didn’t agree, not in this particular case,

I looked down at the mobile phone the policeman had put in front of me.

‘That’s not my phone,’ I said.

Geoffrey Swaby coughed, but I ignored him.

‘It was the phone found in your coat pocket when you were arrested,’ said one of the detectives in a rather condescending tone.

‘As may be,’ I said. ‘But that one belongs to Anton Valance. I took it from him last night. He is the man who was injured in Middleham Castle. It can be unlocked by using the index fingerprint of his right hand.’

The two detectives looked at each other and then back at me.

‘So where is your phone?’

‘Last time I saw it, it was lying on the floor of the storeroom in the wooden building inside the castle entrance.’

One of the detectives stood up and went out of the room.

After a minute or two he returned and placed a second phone on the table in front of me.

‘Is that one yours?’ he asked.