There was silence between us for a few minutes again as the road began to rise, and we drove steeply uphill. The powerful car coped with it effortlessly, and I was grateful that Derek had finally tapered his speed. Dunaff Head and Lenan were to the right and the hills of Claggan were ahead, shades of brown and green; pear, olive and rust, the grass looking almost burnt even though it was soaking wet.

Suddenly, Derek stopped the car, giving me a start, and causing the seatbelt to tighten around me. He turned to look at me. “Fucking weird though, isn’t it? I mean a snakebite. In Ireland.”

“Yes, it is weird.” I noticed my voice quivered a little. Derek’s erratic driving was making me very uneasy.

“Do they know if that’s what killed him?”

I shook my head. “I think they have to wait for the post-mortem.”

He looked ahead. “That’s what the sergeant said. But then when they released that statement about keeping an eye out for a snake, I didn’t know what to think …”

“I don’t think you’re alone there.” I looked across at him and saw that his hand was shaking on the wheel. “I don’t suppose you knew anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?”

He gave me a strange look. “You mean someone with a penchant for poisonous snakes? No, I don’t.”

He moved the car forward again and we both fell silent while he negotiated a particularly severe hairpin bend. The view was dramatic – land jutting out into the sea, the treeless hills with their heather and jagged rocks on all sides. Even with the clouds you could see all the way to Lenan Head.

He sighed. “It’s pretty spectacular up here all right. Galway has some incredible spots, but this is special.”

“Where in Galway are you from?” I asked, relieved at the change of subject.

He replied dismissively, “Oh, we grew up in the city, I’m afraid. Nowhere like this.”

We turned towards Mamore, passing the You are entering Amazing Grace Country sign.

I looked over at Derek with a half-smile. “Did you know you weren’t taking the “Amazing Grace” route, by the way? It’s along Lough Swilly, and you were going down by the Foyle. Wrong side of the peninsula.”

Derek nodded, raising his eyes to heaven. “That didn’t matter to Bob, small print as far as he was concerned. Once we were in the general vicinity, he was happy to use the connection. The charity he founded is the Jameson Grace Charity and the care homes are the Jameson Grace Homes. He had a thing about that hymn.”

“Oh?”