She giggled. ‘Is that what I do, Robert?’
‘From time to time,’ he replied, squeezing her arm, ‘and I’m grateful for it. But you’ve also been able to assist me, as you’ve done in the present investigation.’
‘What does that make me?’
‘I suppose that I’d call you a useful diversion.’
‘Is that good or bad?’
‘You won’t ever hear me complaining, Madeleine.’
The paddock was near the finish and a sizeable throng had gathered to watch the horses being paraded. Owners were having last-minute conversations with their trainers and jockeys. Lord Hendry was there, patting Odysseus nervously as a groom led him past. It was Madeleine’s first sight of the favourite and she marvelled at his lean head, longish neck and solid shoulders. She also took note of his massive ribs and powerful quarters. Merry Legs, though neat and beautifully proportioned, looked slight beside the favourite.
‘Father was going to bet on Aleppo,’ she confided.
Colbeck pointed. ‘Here he comes,’ he said, ‘and he may yet cause an upset. So might Sir James Mallen’s Gladiator. I’ve been hearing good things about him all morning.’
‘It’s so confusing, Robert. How can anyone choose a winner?’
‘By a combination of luck and judgement.’
‘What’s your feeling?’
‘I’m just relieved that the Derby is about to be run without any horses having been eliminated unfairly. It’s not too late for any foul play at this stage, of course,’ he said. ‘To guard against that, I’ve placed some of my officers in strategic positions so that the horses will be watched all the way to the start.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Have you or have you not placed a bet?’
Colbeck smiled. ‘It would be absurd not to, Madeleine.’
There was mild commotion as Princess of Fire had a tantrum, bucking half a dozen times and scattering those who had got too near. The groom and the jockey soon calmed the filly. It was time for the horses to go to the starting post. Jockeys were helped up into the saddle and fitted their feet into the stirrups. Racing caps were adjusted. Silk tunics, bearing the owner’s colours, flapped in the breeze. Tensions that had built steadily up over months of preparation were finally on the point of release. There was no turning back now.
When they saw the runners heading for the start, the spectators went into a frenzy of anticipation. Lining the course and covering the Downs like a vast human carpet, they roared and cheered and clapped. Six years earlier, the starting point had been altered so that it was more easily visible from the towering, three-tiered grandstand. That was the best place from which to watch the race and Colbeck conducted Madeleine there. While he was very interested in the outcome of the Derby, part of his mind was still concentrated firmly on the murder investigation. Leeming had told him that Kitty Lavender had agreed to meet him soon after the race. Colbeck looked forward to the encounter with her.
They were all there. Lord Hendry was seated among his cronies, hiding his deep fears beneath friendly badinage. Brian Dowd sat nearer the front, dressed in his finery and using a telescope to get a better view. Hamilton Fido had vacated the betting room and stood at the rear of the grandstand, framed in a doorway and watching it all with wry amusement. He had taken an immense amount of money in bets. Whatever the result, he stood to reap a huge profit. He was already considering what he would buy Kitty Lavender by way of celebration.
With the vast crowd baying for the race to start, there was a delay as three of the jockeys were unable to bring their horses in line. In spite of repeated warnings from the starter, it was minutes before the mettlesome thoroughbreds were brought under enough control. Twenty runners were eventually strung out in something resembling a line. The flag came down and the horses plunged forward on their dash into racing history. They were off.
Royal Realm and Princess of Fire were the early leaders with the rest of the field fanned out behind them. They made the running all the way to Tattenham Corner, with over half the race behind them. As soon as they entered the straight, however, they fell back and it was a quartet of horses who surged to the front. Below the distance, with just over a furlong to go, they split into two groups. Limerick Lad and Aleppo were involved in a ferocious battle on the rails while Odysseus and Merry Legs fought for supremacy on the stand side. There was little to choose between any of them.
The Irish horse seemed to be pulling slowly away, then it was the favourite who put in a finishing spurt. Aleppo stayed in touch with both of them but Merry Legs began to falter and lose ground. The race was only between three horses now. Using their whips and yelling their commands, the jockeys sought to pull every last ounce of speed out of their mounts. As they thundered towards the post, Odysseus made a supreme effort and Limerick Lad strained to match it.
The noise reached the level of hysteria and the whole of the stand was on its feet to cheer the horses home. With Limerick Lad and Odysseus riding neck and neck, it looked as if it might be a dead heat. Then Aleppo showed perfect racing temperament by saving his spurt until the critical moment, edging past the others over the last twenty yards to win by a half a length. Another Derby had delivered a shock. In the massive explosion of sound that followed, it was minutes before most people were aware of the full result.
Aleppo was the winner, Limerick Lad was second and the favourite was pushed into third place. Gladiator had stolen up to take fourth place from Merry Legs but that did not appease those who had backed him. The Derby was over for another year and the murder investigation could be resumed.
When the hordes descended on the bookmakers, it was difficult for the detectives to reach Hamilton Fido. They had to force a way through the crowd. Madeleine Andrews had been left with the superintendent so that Colbeck and Leeming could go about their work. In the sustained clamour, they could hardly make themselves heard. When they finally got to the betting room, they caught a glimpse of Hamilton Fido over the heads of the people in front of them. Beside the bookmaker was a beautiful young woman. Certain that it was Kitty Lavender, Colbeck redoubled his efforts to move through the crowd.
But he was not the only person eager to get close to the woman. Lord Hendry had an even more urgent appointment with her. Crazed by the failure of Odysseus, knowing that he faced financial ruin and enraged by the sight of Kitty Lavender and Fido together, he rushed towards them, using his cane indiscriminately to beat a way through. Panting for breath, he confronted them.
‘You’re a harlot, Kitty Lavender!’ he shouted. ‘I won’t fight a duel over you because you have no honour to defend.’
‘That’s enough!’ yelled Fido, stepping between the two of them. ‘I’ve told you before, Hendry. If you dare to insult Kitty, you answer to me.’
‘This is all I have to say to you!’
Pulling out a pistol from beneath his coat, he fired at point-blank range and sent a bullet burrowing into Fido’s forehead. There was a moment of abrupt silence and everyone instinctively drew back. The whole atmosphere in the room had changed in a flash. Then the bookmaker fell backwards into Kitty’s arms and she let out a scream of absolute terror. The detectives were the first to recover. All decorum was abandoned now as they shoved people aside to get to the killer.
Lord Hendry did not wait for them. Flinging his pistol aside, he twisted the handle of his cane, drew out the sword that was concealed inside it and used it to create a space for his escape. He went swiftly through the door at the rear of the room and slammed it behind him. Colbeck and Leeming were the only men brave enough to follow him. When they finally reached the door and opened it, a horrifying scene greeted them. Having lost his money, his property and his reputation, Lord Hendry had decided that he had nothing left to keep him alive with any dignity. Falling forward onto the point of the weapon, he had pierced his heart and was writhing in a pool of blood.
Colbeck thought of all the classical texts in the man’s library.
‘It was a Roman death,’ he said. ‘He fell on his sword.’
It took a long time to calm everyone down and to have the two dead bodies removed by policemen. A pall of sadness now hung over the room. Devastated at the death of her lover, Kitty Lavender was also tortured by the realisation that she was indirectly responsible for it. In becoming, in turn, the mistress of two men, she had ensured a violent end for both of them. She was anguished.
