by Dick Francis
‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘Later would be best for me too, as it happens. After the third, then.’
I watched the first three races with the hunger of an exile returned. Tony’s horse, my sometime mount, finished a fast fourth, which augured well for next time out, and Byler’s horse won the third. As I hurried round to see how Jack Roxford would make out in the winner’s enclosure I almost crashed into Kessel. He looked me over, took in the plaster and crutches, and said nothing at all. I watched his cold expressionless face with one to match. After ramming home the point that he had no intention of apologising he turned brusquely on his heel and walked away.
‘Get that,’ Tony said in my ear. ‘You could sue him for defamation.’
‘He’s not worth the effort.’
From Charlie West, too, I’d had much the same reaction. Defiance, slightly sullen variety. I shrugged resignedly. That was my own fault, and only time would tell.
Tony walked with me to the winner’s enclosure. Byler was there, beaming. Jack Roxford still looked lost. We watched Byler suggest a celebration drink, and Jack shake his head vaguely as if he hadn’t understood.
‘Go and fish Jack out,’ I said to Tony. ‘Tell him you’re still looking after him.’
‘If you say so, pal.’ He obligingly edged through the crowd, took Jack by the elbow, said a few explanatory words to Byler, and steered Jack out.
I joined them and said neutrally, ‘This way,’ and led them along towards the Stewards’ dining-room. They both went through the door taking off their hats and hanging them on the pegs inside.
The long tables in the Stewards’ dining-room had been cleared from lunch and laid for tea, but there was no one in there except Lord Ferth. He shook hands with Tony and Jack and invited them to sit down around one end of a table.
‘Kelly…?’ he suggested.
‘I’ll stand,’ I said. ‘Easier.’
‘Well now,’ Ferth said, glancing curiously at Tony and Jack, ‘You told me, Kelly, that you knew who had framed you and Dexter Cranfield.’
I nodded.
Tony said regretfully, ‘Grace Roxford. Jack’s wife.’
Jack looked vaguely down at the table cloth and said nothing at all.
Tony explained to Lord Ferth just what had happened at Cranfield’s and he looked more and more upset.
‘My dear Roxford,’ he said uncomfortably, ‘I’m so sorry. So very sorry.’ He looked up at me. ‘One could never have imagined that she… that Grace Roxford of all people… could have framed you.’
‘That’s right,’ I said mildly. ‘She didn’t’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Both Tony and Jack sat up as if electrified.
Lord Ferth said, ‘But you said…’ And Tony answered, ‘I thought there was no doubt… She tried to kill Kelly… she was going to kill Cranfield too.’
‘She tried to kill me this time,’ I agreed. ‘But not the time before. It wasn’t she who fiddled with my car.’
‘Then who?’ Lord Ferth demanded.
‘Her husband.’
Jack stood up. He looked a lot less lost.
I poked Tony on the shoulder with my crutch, and he took the hint and stood up too. He was sitting between Jack and the door.
‘Sit down, Mr Roxford,’ Ferth said authoritatively, and after a pause, slowly, he obeyed.
‘That’s nonsense,’ he said protestingly. ‘I didn’t touch Kelly’s car. No one could have arranged that accident.’
‘You couldn’t have imagined I would be hit by a train,’ I agreed. ‘But some sort of smash, yes, definitely.’
‘But Grace…’ began Tony, still bewildered.
‘Grace,’ I said prosaically, ‘Has in most respects displayed exactly opposite qualities to the person who engineered Cranfield’s and my suspension. Grace has been wild, accusing, uncontrolled and emotional. The planning which went into getting us warned off was cool, careful, efficient and brutal.’
‘Mad people are very cunning,’ Tony said doubtfully.
‘It wasn’t Grace,’ I said positively. ‘It was Jack.’
There was a pause. Then Jack said in a rising wail, ‘Why ever did she have to go to Cranfield’s this morning? Why ever couldn’t she leave things alone?’
‘It wouldn’t have done any good,’ I said. ‘I already knew it was you.’
‘That’s impossible.’
Ferth cleared his throat. ‘I think… er… you’d better tell us, Kelly, what your grounds are for making this very serious accusation.’
‘It began,’ I said, ‘When Dexter Cranfield persuaded Edwin Byler to take his horses away from Roxford and send them to him. Cranfield did no doubt persuade Byler, as Grace maintained, that he was a more highly regarded trainer socially than Roxford. Social standing means a great deal to Mr Cranfield, and he is apt to expect that it does to everyone else. And in Edwin Byler’s case, he was very likely right. But Jack had trained Byler’s horses from the day he bought his first, and as Byler’s fortune and string grew, so did Jack’s prosperity and prestige. To lose Byler was to him a total disaster. A return to obscurity. The end of everything. Jack isn’t a bad trainer, but he hasn’t the personality to make the top ranks. Not without an accident… a gift from Heaven… like Byler. And you don’t find two Bylers in your yard in one lifetime. So almost from the start I wondered about Jack; from as soon as Cranfield told me, two days after the Enquiry, that Byler had been going to transfer his horses. Because I felt such a wrench of regret, you see, that I was not going to ride them… and I realised that that was nothing compared to what Jack would have felt if he’d lost them.’
‘I didn’t feel so bad as that,’ said Jack dully.
‘I had an open mind,’ I said, ‘Because Pat Nikita had much the same motive, only the other way round. He and Cranfield detest each other. He had been trying to coax Kessel away from Cranfield for years, and getting Cranfield warned off was one way of clinching things. Then there were various people with smaller motives, like Charlie West, who might have hoped to ride Squelch for Nikita if I were out of the way. And there was a big possibility that it was someone else altogether, someone I hadn’t come across, whose motive I couldn’t even suspect.’
‘So why must it be Mr Roxford?’ Ferth said.
I took the paper Teddy Dewar had sent me out of my pocket and handed it to him, explaining what it meant.
‘That shows a direct link between Oakley and the people in the circles. One of those people is Jack Roxford. He did, you see, know of Oakley’s existence. He knew Oakley would agree to provide faked evidence.’
‘But…’ Lord Ferth began.
‘Yes, I know,’ I said. ‘Circumstantial. Then there’s this list of people from George Newtonnards.’ I gave him the list, and pointed. ‘These are the people who definitely knew that Cranfield had backed Cherrry Pie with Newtonnards. Again this is not conclusive, because other people might have known, who are not on this list. But that man,’ I pointed to the name in Herbie Subbings’ list of contacts, ‘that man is Grace Roxford’s brother, Jack’s brother-in-law.’
Ferth looked at me levelly. ‘You’ve taken a lot of trouble.’
‘It was taken for me,’ I said, ‘By Teddy Dewar and his friend, and by George Newtonnards.’
‘They acted on your suggestions, though.’
‘Yes.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘There are those neatly typed sheets of accusations which were sent to Lord Gowery. So untypical, by the way, of Grace. We could compare the typewriter with Jack’s… Typewriters are about as distinctive as finger prints. I haven’t had an opportunity to do that yet.’
Jack looked up wildly. The typewriter made sense to him. He hadn’t followed the significance of the lists.
Ferth said slowly, ‘I obtained from the Stewards’ Secretaries the letter which pointed out to them that a disqualified person was living in a racing stable. As far as I remember, the typing is the same as in the original accusations.’<
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‘Very catty, that,’ I said. ‘More like Grace. Revengeful, and without much point.’
‘I never wrote to the Stewards’ Secretaries,’ Jack said.
‘Did Grace?’
He shook his head. I thought perhaps he didn’t know. It didn’t seem to be of any great importance. I said instead: ‘I looked inside the boot of Jack’s car this morning, while he was in Mr Cranfield’s house. He carries a great big tool kit, including a hand drill.’
‘No,’ Jack said.
‘Yes indeed. Also you have an old grey Volkswagen, the one Grace drove today. That car was seen by the mechanic from my garage when you went to pick over the remains of my car. I imagine you were hoping to remove any tell-tale drill holes which might have led the insurance company to suspect attempted murder, but Derek was there before you. And you either followed him or asked the garage whether he’d taken anything from the wreckage, because you sent David Oakley to my flat to get it back. Oakley didn’t know the significance of what he was looking for. A chunk of metal with a hole in it. That was all he knew. He was there to earn a fee.’
‘Did he find it?’ Ferth asked.
‘No. I still have it. Can one prove that a certain drill made a certain hole?’
Ferth didn’t know. Jack didn’t speak.
‘When you heard, at the dance,’ I said, ‘That I was trying to find out who had framed Cranfield and me, you thought you would get rid of me, in case I managed it. Because if I managed it, you’d lose far more than Byler’s horses… so while I was talking to Lord Ferth and dancing with Roberta, you were out at the back of the car park rigging up your booby trap. Which,’ I added calmly, remembering the blazing hell of the dislocations, ‘I find hard to forgive.’
‘I’ll strangle him,’ Tony said forcefully.
‘What happens to him,’ I shook my head, ‘Depends on Lord Ferth.’
Ferth regarded me squarely. ‘You find him. I deal with him.’
‘That was the agreement.’
‘To your satisfaction.’
‘Yes.’
‘And what is your satisfaction?’
I didn’t know.
Tony moved restlessly, looking at his watch. ‘Lord Ferth, Kelly, look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got a horse to saddle for the last race… I’ll have to go now.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Lord Ferth. ‘But we’d all be obliged if you wouldn’t talk about what you’ve learned in here.’
Tony looked startled. ‘Sure. If you say so. Not a word.’ He stood up and went over to the door. ‘See you after,’ he said to me. ‘You secretive so-and-so.’
As he went out a bunch of Stewards and their wives came in chattering for their tea. Lord Ferth went over to them and exerted the flashing eyes, and they all went into reverse. A waiter who had materialised behind them was stationed outside the door with instructions to send all customers along to the members’ tea room.
While this was going on Jack looked steadfastly down at the tablecloth and said not a word. I didn’t feel like chatting to him idly either. He’d cost me too much.
Lord Ferth came briskly back and sat down.
‘Now then, Roxford,’ he said in his most businesslike way, ‘We’ve heard Kelly’s accusations. It’s your turn now to speak up in your defence.’
Jack slowly lifted his head. The deep habitual lines of worry were running with sweat.
‘It was someone else.’ His voice was dead.
‘It certainly wasn’t Grace,’ I said, ‘Because Lord Gowery was quite clear that the person who tried to blackmail him on the telephone was a man.’ So was the person who had got at Charlie West a man, or so he’d said.
Jack Roxford jerked.
‘Yes, Roxford, we know about Lord Gowery.’ Ferth said.
‘You can’t…’
‘You belong to the same club,’ I said assertively, as if I knew.
For Jack Roxford, too, the thought of that club was the lever which opened the floodgates. Like Gowery before him he broke into wretched pieces.
‘You don’t understand…’
‘Tell us then,’ Ferth said. ‘And we’ll try.’
‘Grace… we… I… Grace didn’t like…’ He petered out.
I gave him a shove. ‘Grace liked her sex natural and wouldn’t stand for what you wanted.’
He gulped. ‘Soon after we were married we were having rows all the time, and I hated that. I loved her, really I did. I’ve always loved her. And I felt… all tangled up… she didn’t understand that when I beat her it was because of love… she said she’d leave me and divorce me for cruelty… so I asked a girl I’d known… a street girl, who didn’t mind… I mean… she let you, if you paid well enough… if I could go on seeing her… but she said she’d given that up now… but there was a club in London… and I went there… and it was a terrific relief… and then I was all right with Grace… but of course we didn’t… well, hardly ever… but somehow… we could go on being married.’
Lord Ferth looked revolted.
‘I couldn’t believe it at first,’ Jack said more coherently, ‘When I saw Lord Gowery there. I saw him in the street, just outside. I thought it was just a coincidence. But then, one night, inside the club, I was sure it was him, and I saw him again in the street another time… but I didn’t say anything. I mean, how could I? And anyway, I knew how he felt… you don’t go there unless you must… and you can’t keep away.’
‘How long have you known that Lord Gowery went to the same club?’ I asked.
‘Oh… two or three years. A long time. I don’t know exactly.’
‘Did he know you were a member?’
‘No. He hadn’t a clue. I spoke to him once or twice on the racecourse about official things… He didn’t have any idea.’
‘And then,’ Ferth said thoughtfully, ‘You read that he had been appointed in Colonel Midgley’s place to officiate at the Cranfield-Hughes Enquiry, and you saw what you thought was a good chance of getting Cranfield out of racing, and keeping Byler’s horses yourself.’
Jack sat huddled in his chair, not denying it.
‘And when Lord Gowery declined to be blackmailed, you couldn’t bear to give up the idea, and you set about faking evidence that would achieve your ends.’
A long silence. Then Jack said in a thick disjointed voice, ‘Grace minded so much… about Cranfield taking our horses. She went on and on about it… morning, noon and night. Couldn’t stop. Talk, talk, talk. All the time. Saying she’d like to kill Cranfield… and things like that. I mean… she’s always been a bit nervy… a bit strung up… but Cranfield was upsetting her… I got a bit frightened for her sometimes, she was that violent about him… Well, it was really because of that that I tried to get Cranfield warned off… I mean, he was better warned off than Grace trying to kill him.’
‘Did you truly believe she would?’ I asked.
‘She was ranting about it all the time… I didn’t know if she really would… but I was so afraid… I didn’t want her to get into trouble… dear dear Grace… I wanted to help her… and make things right again… so I set about it… and it wasn’t too difficult really, not once I’d set my mind to it.’
Ferth gave me a twisted smile. I gave him a similar one back and reflected that marriage could be a deadly institution. Grace’s strung up state would have been aggravated by the strain of living with a sexually odd man, and Jack would have felt guilty about it and wanted to make it up to her. Neither of them had been rationally inclined, and the whole situation had boiled up claustrophobically inside their agonised private world. Having dear Grace harping on endlessly would have driven many a stronger man to explosive action: but Jack couldn’t desert her, because he had to stay with his horses, and he couldn’t drive her away because he loved her. The only way he’d seen of silencing his wife had been to ruin Cranfield.
‘Why me?’ I said, trying to keep out the bitterness. ‘Why me too?’
‘Eh?’ He squinted at me, half focussing. ‘You… well…
I haven’t anything against you personally… But I thought it was the only way to make it a certainty… Cranfield couldn’t have swindled that race without Squelch’s jockey being in the know.’
‘That race was no swindle,’ I said.
‘Oh… I know that. Those stupid Oxford Stewards… still, they gave me such an opportunity… when I heard about Lord Gowery being in charge. And then, when I’d fixed up with Charlie West and Oakley… Grace’s brother told me, just told me casually, mind you, that his bookmaker had told him that Cranfield had backed Cherry Pie, and do you know what, I couldn’t stop laughing. Just like Grace, I felt… dead funny, it was, that he really had backed Cherry Pie…’
‘What was that about Charlie West?’ Ferth said sharply.
‘I paid him… to say Kelly pulled Squelch back. I telephoned and asked him… if Kelly ever did anything like that… and he said once, in a novice ’chase, Kelly had said, “O.K. Brakes on, chaps,” and I told him to say Kelly had said that in the Lemonfizz Cup, because it sounded so convincing, didn’t it, saying something Kelly really had said…’
Ferth looked at me accusingly. ‘You shielded West.’
I shrugged ruefully. Jack paid no attention: didn’t hear.
He went on miserably: ‘Grace was all right before the dance. She was wonderfully calm again, after Cranfield was warned off. And then Edwin Byler said that we would be keeping his horses for always… and we were happy… in our way… and then we heard… that Kelly was at the dance… saying he’d been framed… and was just on the point of finding out who… and Grace saw Cranfield’s daughter and just boiled over all over again, nearly as bad as before… and I thought… if Kelly was dead… it would be all right again…’
Ferth slowly shook his head. The reasoning which had led Jack Roxford step by step from misfortune to crime defeated him.
‘I thought he wouldn’t feel anything,’ Jack said. ‘I thought that you just blacked out suddenly from carbon monoxide. I thought it would be like going to sleep… he wouldn’t know about it. Just wouldn’t wake up.’