Racehorse trainers are very fond of the horses they train, but not to that extent. Thoroughbreds are very delicate creatures, created by centuries of inbreeding in the quest for the ultimate racing machine. They may have strong bodies but they also have very thin legs, designed for speed. Those legs are fragile, and every trainer, especially a long-standing jump trainer like Gary, has often experienced the anguish of losing a horse to mortal injury.

The death of a horse, in whatever circumstances, may often be something to cry over, but could it ever be a serious reason for suicide? I thought not, although Richard III, once owner of Middleham Castle down the road, had lost his life due to the lack of a horse to ride after his charger had been killed beneath him at the Battle of Bosworth Field—as William Shakespeare had written in his tragedy, King Richard the Third: ‘A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!’

‘What was used?’ I asked.

‘For what?’

‘To hang him.’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

So I wasn’t the only one withholding information.

‘How about his phone?’ I asked. ‘Have you examined that, other than to read the suicide note?’

‘Of course,’ the policeman replied with a don’t-tell-me-how-to-do-my-job expression. ‘And that digital search is ongoing.’

I wondered if, in spite of the SIM being removed, the phone itself would reveal that Gary had made calls to me on Saturday afternoon and Sunday evening. I would soon find out if it did, that was for sure.

‘Anything else you need me for?’ I asked.

‘Not at this time,’ the detective replied in true police-speak. ‘But I will need your contact details.’

‘You already have my phone number. It’s on Gary Bremner’s phone records.’

He nodded. ‘But also I need an address.’ He removed a notebook from the pocket of his coat. I gave him my home details and he wrote them down. ‘Thames Valley area,’ he said, almost under his breath. ‘I did two years with them as a traffic cop when I first qualified, before coming north.’

‘Why the move?’ I asked.

‘My wife’s from up here. We moved for her to be nearer to her parents.’

My mind drifted to Marina. When her father died, would she want to remain in Fryslân to be nearer to her mother?

‘I’ll arrange for the constable to take you back to your car, but no more standing on ancient monuments and causing a breach of the peace. Do you understand, Mr Halley?’

‘Yes, okay,’ I replied, but I actually intended to do a lot more than just make a little noise in the street.

The same policeman took me back to Middleham town centre in the back of his patrol car.

‘I wonder where he got the rope?’ I asked casually on the way.