‘Mr Halley, I’m Detective Chief Inspector Williams, North Yorks Police. Thank you for coming to see me.’

‘I didn’t have much choice in the matter,’ I said pointedly, implying I wouldn’t be here otherwise.

I didn’t have any great respect for police officers since they had arrested me on the bogus child-abuse allegations. But this one ignored the slight.

‘I understand that you have been making something of a spectacle of yourself this morning, standing on the Swine Cross in the town centre and shouting randomly at passers-by.’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘Not randomly.’

‘So what have you been doing?’

‘Investigating.’

‘Investigating what?’ he asked, sticking his chin out towards me.

‘Just something. Nothing you need to worry about.’

He wrinkled his nose in displeasure. ‘Mr Halley, you should leave all investigating to the police. Do I make myself clear?’

‘It’s not a police matter,’ I said, although it was. ‘I am actually looking for someone, and I don’t have access to all the data you do. So it seemed logical for me to ask those people who might know where he is, and they were all on horseback. Hence I rose up to their level and had to shout above the sound of the horses’ hooves on the road surface. I assure you there was no spectacle.’

‘As may be, but, nevertheless, there was a complaint of a breach of the peace.’

‘Who by?’ I asked. ‘And why have I then been brought here rather than to a police station? Do detective chief inspectors normally deal with breaches of the peace?’

‘You were heard to shout the name Gary Bremner. I am the senior investigating officer in the case of the unexplained death of someone of that name.’

‘But, surely,’ I said, ‘you mean his murder.’

CHAPTER

9

DETECTIVE CHIEF INSPECTOR Williams stared at me. ‘At the present time, Mr Bremner’s death is only being treated as unexplained.’

We were still standing in the overgrown garden of said Mr Bremner’s house.

‘The news reports imply you lot think it was suicide,’ I said in a sceptical tone.

‘But you don’t?’

‘Not for a second. I knew Gary. Have done for decades. He would never kill himself. He had far too much courage.’

‘Don’t you need courage to kill yourself?’ DCI Williams asked, surprised.

‘You need far more courage to go on living,’ I replied quickly. ‘Anyway, why would he?’

‘Because he was divorced, estranged from his children and had now lost his livelihood.’

‘Why his livelihood? Stables can be rebuilt.’

‘How about his horses that were killed?’

‘They weren’t his, they belonged to the owners. He just trained them. Horses in yards are always coming and going. Some retire or die, or move to other trainers, and new ones arrive to take their place. And as for his family, he didn’t care much for his ex-wife or his kids anyway.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He told me.’

‘When?’