‘What did he do?’
‘What any lad with real mettle would’ve done – he went off in search of a job at another stables. He’d no family here to turn to so he sailed off to try his luck in England.’
‘Did you keep in touch with him?’
‘I’d no reason to, Inspector. One of my other lads did, though. John Feeny couldn’t read or write but he got someone to send a letter or two on his behalf. Things were tough at first but he found a job in the end. He even boasted he’d soon be a jockey.’
‘That will never happen now,’ said Colbeck sadly.
‘No – and it’s a crying shame.’ He smacked his thigh. ‘Jesus, I feel so guilty! I wish I’d kept him here and given him a chance in the saddle. But,’ he added with a deep sigh, ‘it wouldn’t have been fair to other lads with more talent as riders. John Feeny was never strong enough or ruthless enough to make a living as a jockey.’
‘Could I speak to the person who kept in touch with him?’
‘Of course – his name is Jerry Doyle.’
‘Did he tell you which stables Feeny was working at?’
‘He did, Inspector – I had a vested interest in knowing.’
‘Did they happen to belong to Lord Hendry?’ When the Irishman shook his head, Colbeck was disappointed. ‘I obviously made the wrong assumption.’
‘In the world of racing,’ said Dowd sagely before gulping down more whiskey, ‘you should never make assumptions of any kind. It’s far too dangerous, Inspector.’
‘I can see that.’
‘It was a big decision for someone like John to go to England but the lad seemed to have fallen on his feet.’
‘For whom was he working?’
‘Hamilton Fido.’
‘The bookmaker?’
‘There’s only one Mr Fido in this game,’ said Dowd bitterly, ‘and that’s one too many in my book. The man is as slippery as an eel and as vicious as a polecat. He gives racing a bad name. He ought to be drummed out of it in disgrace.’
‘You and he are clearly not on the best of terms.’
‘We’re not on any kind of terms, Inspector.’
‘Mr Fido has a horse running in the Derby – Merry Legs.’
‘She’ll be left standing by Limerick Lad.’
‘Odysseus is the favourite.’
‘Not from where I stand,’ asserted Dowd, ‘and I’ve spent my whole life around racehorses. I’ve seen both Odysseus and Merry Legs at their best. Neither of them cause me any worry.’
‘Let’s go back to John Feeny,’ said Colbeck, reclaiming his glass from the desk. ‘I believe that severed head was destined to come here. It could have been sent to you as a warning.’
‘I agree, Inspector.’
‘Someone is trying to frighten you off.’
‘It was a message for me,’ said Dowd grimly, ‘no question about that. Because he used to work here at one time, John Feeny was suspected of being a spy. Someone thought he’d been planted in the stables so that he could feed back information to me about a leading Derby contender. Since I was seen as the villain, they tried to send a piece of the lad back here to give me a scare.’
‘That means Hamilton Fido is somehow involved.’
‘He’s your killer, Inspector. He’s such a cruel bastard that he’d enjoy cutting off someone’s head. Go back and arrest him.’
‘It may not be as simple as that, Mr Dowd,’ said Colbeck. ‘From what I’ve heard of Mr Fido, he’s devious and manipulative. He’d get someone else to do his dirty work for him and make sure that he kept his hands clean. In any case, we’ve no proof that he’s in any way connected to the crime. But let me return to this charge of spying,’ he continued. ‘When a major race is coming up, there must be a lot of that sort of thing going on.’
‘We all like to know as much as we can about the competition.’
‘How would you find out about Merry Legs and Odysseus?’
‘Not by putting a lad like that in someone’s stables,’ retorted Dowd. ‘I didn’t send him off to his death, Inspector, so don’t look to accuse me. I told you what happened. John Feeny left of his own accord. I wished him well before he went and gave him twice what I owed him. You can ask Jerry Doyle – or anyone else, for that matter.’
‘I take your word for it, sir.’
‘The man you’re after is Hamilton Fido.’
‘I’ll speak with him at the earliest opportunity,’ said Colbeck, taking a longer sip of his whiskey. ‘If he’s capable of murder, he’ll clearly stop at nothing to win the Derby.’
‘Nothing at all.’
‘I hope you’ve taken extra precautions to protect Limerick Lad.’
‘Don’t trouble yourself on that score.’
‘Mr Fido – or your other rivals – might have someone watching these stables and biding their time until they can strike.’
‘We took that into account, Inspector Colbeck.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘As I told you,’ said Dowd, looking him in the eye, ‘racing has been my life. There’s not a dirty trick or a clever ruse I haven’t seen ten times over. On the night before a big race, I’ve often slept on the straw beside one of my horses with a loaded shotgun. Nobody has ever managed to cause serious injury to one of my animals.’
‘They killed one of your former grooms.’
‘John Feeny was an innocent victim – God save his soul!’
‘How can you be sure they won’t strike at Limerick Lad next?’ said Colbeck. ‘You’ve a long journey ahead of you. There’ll be plenty of opportunities to attack him on the way. When do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘I’ll be happy to come with you to act as a guard.’
‘Kind of you to offer, Inspector,’ said Dowd, ‘but it won’t be necessary. We’ll travel on our own, if you don’t mind. And don’t worry about my horse. It’s quite impossible for anyone to get at Limerick Lad on the way to England.’
‘Not if someone is desperate enough.’
‘That’d make no difference.’
‘Have you forgotten what happened to John Feeny?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ said Dowd soulfully, ‘and I’ll do everything in my power to help you catch his killer. It’s the least I can do for the boy. But I still have no concerns about Limerick Lad.’
‘Why not?’
‘For reasons of safety, he was taken to England days ago. Until the Derby, he’s being kept in a secret location.’ Dowd grinned broadly. ‘I wouldn’t tell my own mother where we’ve got him hidden.’
CHAPTER FIVE
When he eventually returned to London, it was too late for Victor Leeming to report to the superintendent so he was glad to postpone that unappealing duty until the following day. There was a further delay. Edward Tallis spent all morning at a meeting with the commissioner. It was not until early afternoon that Leeming was able to speak to the superintendent. He approached the office with trepidation. Robert Colbeck enjoyed sparring with Tallis and welcomed their encounters. Leeming viewed them as nerve-racking ordeals. With the inspector beside him, he could put on a brave face at such interviews. When he had to confront the superintendent alone and unaided, he quailed inwardly.
Plucking up his courage, the sergeant knocked on the door. The invitation for him to enter was an angry bellow. Superintendent Tallis, it appeared, was not at his most docile. Leeming went in.
