Saskia had slept most of the hour-and-a-half drive from the airport to Fryslân, while I thought about what had happened during the last six weeks.

Anton Valance had finally recovered consciousness but was far from right due to having had a massive bleed on his brain.

‘It’s like he’s had a really bad stroke,’ Detective Chief Inspector Williams had said to me on the phone. ‘And there’s no guarantee he will ever be well enough to be charged with any crime.’

Henry—call me Harry—Asquith, meanwhile, had been charged, both with wounding with intent and with attempted murder, and he had been remanded in custody, awaiting trial.

I wondered what young Henry Payne made of that.

‘How about Chico?’ I’d asked the DCI.

‘It’s not official yet, but I understand that no further action will be taken against Mr Barnes.’

Chico had been delighted to hear it when I’d called him.

On the second Saturday in May, I had taken Saskia with me to Haydock Park races and we watched together from the grandstands as Marcus Capes rode a perfect race on Meeru to win the Swinton Handicap Hurdle by half a length.

Being young and healthy, his collarbone had healed very quickly, but, even so, he had only been passed fit to ride on the morning of the race.

But it had been worth the long journey north just to see him accompany Meeru into the place reserved for the winner, this time with a carefree and unambiguous broad grin on his face.

The week before, Marcus had come with me to see Toby Jing of the BHA Integrity Department in London, to help me lay some of the facts of Asquith’s and Valance’s race-fixing plan before the Authority.

No further copies of Valance’s video of Marcus counting money had surfaced, so we had decided to gloss over those particular details. However, we did emphasise that Valance had broken Marcus’s collarbone because he, Marcus, hadn’t been prepared to lose on Asquith’s orders.

I think that Toby had probably been aware that we knew more than we were saying, but, short of him applying the thumbscrews, we weren’t telling. But we still gave him enough to ensure that, whatever happened to future recovery or criminal trials, both Asquith and Valance would be declared unfit to be licensed, under BHA regulations, as an owner or a jockeys’ agent, or as anything else for that matter.

‘Have you heard of any trainers being asked to pay a premium to jockeys’ agents?’ I had asked Toby casually, as I stood up to leave.

‘I’ve heard a few rumours.’

‘And what is the BHA doing about it?’

‘The financial arrangements between a jockey and his or her agent are not the concern of the Authority.’