Under Orders

whenever I rode a big winner. As he said, it was indeed ‘bloody marvellous’.

I had enjoyed his ready companionship.

‘See you!’ I called to him as I left, a simple goodbye said without any real expectation of seeing him again.

‘You know where to find me,’ he said, and went back to his deliberations.

When I got back to the flat, I connected my new answering machine to the telephone in my office. I recorded a greeting message and tested it by calling it from my mobile. I left myself a brief message and then tested the remote access feature. Perhaps I am a bit of a sceptic about electronics but I was pleasantly surprised that it worked perfectly.

I threw the old machine in the bin but not before extracting the cassette tape that still had Huw Walker’s messages recorded on it.

I was hiding all the wiring beneath my desk when the phone rang. I thought briefly about letting my new machine do the answering but instead I clambered up and lifted the receiver.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Sid! Great. I hoped you’d be there,’ said a voice. ‘I need your help and I need it fast.’

‘Sorry,’ I replied, ‘who is this?’

‘It’s Bill,’ said the voice.

‘Bill! God, sorry! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.’

‘They haven’t banged me up for life yet, you know.’

‘But where are you?’ I asked him.

‘At home, where do you think, Dartmoor?’ He laughed but I could tell even over the telephone that it was a hollow laugh, the worry very close to the surface.

‘They let you go?’

‘Yup, insufficient evidence to charge me, at least for now. I’m out on police bail. I’m not allowed to leave the country and, more worrying, I’m not allowed on a racecourse.’

‘But that’s crazy,’ I said. ‘How can you earn your living if you can’t go racing?’

‘Doesn’t really matter. The bloody owners are queuing up at the gate to remove their horses.’ The forced cheerfulness had gone out of his voice. ‘That bastard Enstone was the first off the mark. Had two LRT horseboxes here at seven this morning to collect them all. Taken them to that other bastard, Woodward. They’re welcome to each other. His bloody lordship still owes me two months’ training fees for seven horses. That’s a lot of cash I could really do with but probably won’t get now.’

I knew this was always a trainer’s worst nightmare.

‘Three others owners came later but Juliet was wiser by then and wouldn’t let the horses go until their bills had been paid. She did well but didn’t get it all because she didn’t have the details, the damn police had taken so much away. I got back here about two thirty to find her having a stand-up row with one of the owners in the yard.’

‘How did they all know so quickly about you?’ I asked. ‘Your name hasn’t been on the news.’

‘That bastard Chris Beecher wrote a piece in today’s Pump.’ In Bill’s eyes there were lots of bastards about. He probably didn’t know that I was a real bastard, my window-cleaner father having fallen off a ladder to his death only three days before he had been due to marry my pregnant mother.

‘You don’t have to be a bloody rocket scientist to work out who he was writing about. And he had a copy of the paper couriered to each of my owners with the article marked round in red. Couriered! He’s a bloody sod.’

Indeed he was.

‘You didn’t tell him, did you, Sid?’ he asked.

‘I wouldn’t tell Chris Beecher if his trousers were on fire,’ I assured him.

‘No, I didn’t really think it was you.’

‘Did you get any sleep last night?’ I asked him.

‘None to speak of. I mostly sat in a room at the police station. They asked me a few questions about where I was last Friday. Bloody stupid. I was on the television at Cheltenham races, for God’s sake! Yes, they said, they knew. Why did they bloody ask then?

‘They also asked me about my marriage. Horrible things like did I beat my wife? I ask you, what sort of question is that? I said of course not. Then they asked me if I had ever smacked my children? Well, I have, the odd little clip around the legs when they’ve been really naughty. Made me sound like a bloody monster. They implied that it was just a small step from abusing children to murder. Abusing children! I love my kids.’

He yawned loudly down the receiver.

‘Bill,’ I said, ‘you’re exhausted, go to bed and sleep.’

‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’ve too many things to deal with here. And I want to go and find Kate. I tried calling her mother twice but she puts the phone down on me. I’m going round to her place in a minute. Sid, I love Kate and the children and I want them back. And I didn’t kill Huw Walker.’

‘I know that,’ I said.

‘Thank God someone believes me.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, Sid, I called you because I need your help.’

‘I’ll help if I can,’ I said.

‘I know the murder thing is the more serious but I didn’t do it and I can’t think that a murder rap will stick. There were far too many people who saw me all afternoon for me to have had the chance of getting a gun and finding a spot to do a bit of target practice on Huw’s chest. But this race fixing stuff really worries me.’

I didn’t ask him if that was because the allegations were true.

‘What do you want me to do?’ I said.

‘You’re an investigator. I want you to bloody investigate.’

‘Bloody investigate what exactly?’

‘Why my horses look like they’ve been running to order.’

‘And have they?’ I asked.

‘Now look, Sid, don’t you start. I promise you that as far as I was concerned all my runners were doing their best. I’ll admit there were a few that I reckoned had no chance due to illness or injury but even those weren’t sent out with orders to lose.’

‘Bill, I’ll not even think of helping you unless you level with me completely.’

The tone of my voice clearly disturbed him. ‘I am bloody levelling with you,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard the rumours, too, that my horses are not always trying, but it’s not true, or, if it is, it’s nothing to do with me. I promise you, on my mother’s grave.’

‘But your mother’s not dead.’

‘Details, details. It’s true, though. I never tried to fix a race by telling the jockey to lose, or any other way either. Absolutely never.’

I wasn’t sure if I believed him.

‘Why do you think that it looks like you were?’ I asked.

‘The cops showed me a list,’ he said. ‘All Lord Enstone’s horses. They won at long odds and lost at short ones. I told them not to be ridiculous, must be coincidence. But they said that I could go down to the slammer on coincidence and wouldn’t it be better to come clean and tell the truth. I told them I was telling the bloody truth but they still refused to believe it. Then I sat in a cell for a couple of hours and did some serious thinking. Was someone else fixing my horses? Huw was riding them, so was he losing on purpose?’

‘And what conclusions did you come to?’

‘None,’ he said. ‘That’s when I thought to ask you.’

‘Where did the police get the list of Lord Enstone’s horses?’

‘Search me.’

‘Was the list for the last two years?’ I asked.

‘I think it probably was. Why?’

‘I think the police may have been given the list by the good lord himself.’

‘Bastard!’ he said with feeling. ‘He’s a friend of mine — or he was.’

Jonny Enstone didn’t have friends, I thought. He had acquaintances.

‘Anyway, Sid, I need your help to get me out of this hole. I’m not guilty of either thing and I intend to prove