do is to keep an eye on all three owners, Lord Hendry, Fido and Brian Dowd. It’s only a matter of time before one of their horses is in danger again.’
Sidney had worked at the stables for years. The little terrier acted as a guard dog, kept the place free of vermin and made a nuisance of himself whenever the yard was full of horses. The rest of the time, he liked to curl up in the straw in one of the stalls and sleep. That was exactly where the groom found the dog when he brought Merry Legs back from her morning gallop. As he led the animal into the stall, he gave Sidney a friendly kick to get rid of him but there was no response. A harder kick made the dog roll over limply.
The groom was alarmed. Sidney was clearly dead. In the corner of the stall was a pail of water from which the dog might well have drunk. Realising that, the groom flew into a panic. He led the filly quickly back into the yard and called to the trainer.
‘Mr Stenton!’ he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘Come quickly, sir. I think someone tried to poison Merry Legs.’
CHAPTER TEN
When the detectives eventually reached the stables, Alfred Stenton was still shuttling between blind rage and deep sadness. Robert Colbeck introduced his sergeant but the trainer was too preoccupied even to shake hands with Victor Leeming. The death of his dog had shaken him badly and left him lusting for vengeance.
‘They poisoned Sidney,’ said Stenton, grief-stricken. ‘I’ve had him for years. He’s been our mascot here at the stables.’
‘What exactly happened?’ asked Colbeck. ‘All that the message told us was that an attempt had been made to kill Merry Legs.’
‘A failed attempt,’ added Leeming.
‘We’d appreciate more details, Mr Stenton.’
The trainer nodded. It was Hamilton Fido who had reported the crime and the detectives had set out immediately for the stables. Only two days after he had tried to arrest the bookmaker, Colbeck had now been summoned to help him. Breaking the law when it suited him, Fido was obviously not slow to call in those who enforced it when he felt the need to do so. Stenton escorted his visitors to the stall where his dog had perished and indicated the pail of water.
‘Sidney must have drunk from that,’ he said. ‘He shouldn’t even have been in here but somebody left the door open and in he came. One of the grooms found him dead in the straw.’
Colbeck bent beside the pail. ‘I take it that this stall was occupied by Merry Legs?’
‘Until this morning – I’ve had her moved.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t throw the water away, Mr Stenton. We’ll take a sample with us so that it can be analysed.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll leave that to you, Victor.’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ said Leeming, producing a small bottle from his pocket and dipping it in the water. ‘I’m sorry about your dog, sir, but at least it wasn’t Merry Legs.’
‘I’ll kill the man who did this!’ vowed Stenton.
‘He’ll have to face proper judicial process,’ said Colbeck. ‘First of all, of course, we have to catch him. He’s clearly someone familiar with your stables or he wouldn’t have known in which stall to poison the water. And he’s obviously aware of your daily routine. He struck when the yard was virtually deserted.’
‘There were a couple of lads about.’
‘Did they see anything unusual?’
‘Nothing,’ said Stenton. ‘My first thought was that one of them had been responsible and I put the fear of death into them. I’m sure they were both innocent. They were as upset about Sidney as me.’
‘What did you do next, sir?’
‘I sent word to Mr Fido then I spoke to every single person here, one by one. We’ve already had one spy at the stables and I wanted to make certain that we didn’t have another. I really interrogated them, Inspector.’
‘I can well imagine.’
‘So I know that none of them was involved.’
‘What about John Feeny?’ asked Leeming, slipping the bottle and its contents into his pocket. ‘Perhaps he was linked to this in some way. We know that a man arranged a secret meeting with him. He could have got details about the running of the stables out of the lad before he killed him.’
Stenton frowned. ‘What’s this about a secret meeting?’
‘It’s something I discovered from the barmaid at the Shepherd and Shepherdess,’ explained Colbeck. ‘She and Feeny were close friends, it seems. He told her about a man who demanded information about Limerick Lad. Feeny had to comply. The man threatened to reveal that he had once worked for Brian Dowd and get him sacked.’
‘Sacked!’ exclaimed the trainer. ‘Torn limb from limb, you mean!’
‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, sir.’
‘Feeny got what he deserved.’
‘I’m sorry that you can mourn a dog and find no sympathy for a human being who was brutally murdered,’ said Colbeck, shooting him an admonitory look. ‘The sergeant makes a valid point, however. Before he was killed, John Feeny might well have had everything he knew about your stables wrung out of him. Though, from what I’ve heard about Feeny, he would never have given that information freely.’
‘All I’m worried about now is Merry Legs,’ said Stenton.
‘Understandably.’
‘I’m having her watched night and day and I’m supervising her food and water myself.’
‘A sensible precaution,’ said Colbeck. ‘What troubles me are the lengths to which someone is prepared to go. Why use poison when something less lethal could have been put in that water? Why try to kill Merry Legs when you could keep her out of the race simply by giving her some kind of abdominal disorder?’
‘That’s what I was thinking, Inspector,’ said Leeming. ‘Whoever he is, this man does not believe in half- measures.’
‘Arrest the person who set him on to do this,’ urged Stenton.
‘We would if we knew who he was, sir.’
‘Brian Dowd is behind this. Find him before I do.’
‘Do you have any proof that Mr Dowd is implicated?’ said Colbeck calmly. ‘If so, we’d be very glad to see it.’
‘It
‘I’d doubt that, sir. Victor and I have both met the gentleman and one thing was clear to both of us. Mr Dowd loves racehorses. I can’t believe that he would deliberately harm one of them, whatever his feelings about its owner.’
‘I agree,’ said Leeming. ‘I saw Mr Dowd at his stables. He lives and breathes racehorses. Why should he pay someone to attack Merry Legs when he’s so convinced that Limerick Lad can beat her easily in the Derby?’
‘If you two don’t tackle him,’ warned Stenton, ‘then I will.’
‘You’d never get close to him, sir. He has a bodyguard called Seamus who carries a loaded shotgun. I don’t think he’d need much excuse to use it.’
‘Besides,’ said Colbeck, ‘we don’t want you trying to do our job for us, Mr Stenton. We’ll be speaking to Brian Dowd very soon.’
‘Make sure that you do.’
‘Before that, I’d like to talk to the groom who actually found your dog in here. With your permission, Victor and I will then take a look around to see if we can find the most likely place of access for any intruder.’
‘When you’ve done that, put the handcuffs on Brian Dowd.’
‘He’ll have to wait his turn in the queue, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘It was Mr Fido who called on us and I feel duty bound to report to him. No need to ask where he’ll be at this moment.’
‘No, Inspector,’ said Stenton. ‘He’s at Epsom.’
Derby Week was a gambling extravaganza. Betting was brisk on all the races on the various cards but it was the Derby itself that commanded most attention. Sums ranging from the spectacular to the paltry had already been waged though wiser heads were reserving their options by delaying any decision until much nearer the event. Caught up in the frenzy of betting, Hamilton Fido was working at full tilt all morning and only allowed himself a small
