Decider - By Dick Francis Page 0,48
turned his head and stared at me.
‘It’s a very old riddle,’ Edward said apologetically.
‘The pilgrim was allowed only one question,’ Toby said. ‘Only one. And to save his life he had to find out which road led to safety. So what did he ask?’
‘He asked which way was safe,’ Dart said reasonably.
Christopher said, ‘Which twin did he ask?’
‘The one who spoke the truth.’
‘But how did he know which one spoke the truth? They both looked the same. They were twins.’
‘Conrad and Keith aren’t identical,’ Dart said.
The children, not understanding, pressed on. Toby asked again, ‘What question did the pilgrim ask?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest.’
‘Think,’ Edward commanded.
Dart turned my way. ‘Save me!’ he said.
‘That’s not what the pilgrim said,’ Neil informed him with relish.
‘Do you all know?’
Five heads nodded. ‘Dad told us.’
‘Then Dad had better tell me.’
It was Christopher, however, who explained. ‘The pilgrim could only ask one question, so he went to one of the twins and he asked, “If I ask your brother which way leads to safety, which way will he tell me to go?” ’
Christopher stopped. Dart looked flummoxed, is that all?’ he asked.
‘That’s all. So what did the pilgrim do?’
‘Well… he… I give in. What did he do?’
They wouldn’t tell him the answer.
‘You’re devils,’ Dart said.
‘One of the twins was a devil,’ Edward said, ‘and the other was an angel.’
‘You just made that up,’ Toby accused him.
‘So what? It makes it more interesting.’
They all tired abruptly of the riddle and trooped off, as was their habit, back to their make-believe game.
‘For Christ’s sake!’ Dart exclaimed. ‘That’s not bloody fair.’
I laughed in my throat.
‘So what did the pilgrim do?’
‘Work it out.’
‘You’re as bad as your children.’
Dart and I got back into his car. He put the walking frame onto the back seat and observed, ‘Keith really hurt you, didn’t he?’
‘No, it was the explosion. Bits of roof fell in.’
‘Fell in on you. Yes, I heard.’
‘From the shoulder blades down,’ I agreed. ‘Could have been worse.’
‘Oh, sure.’ He started the engine and drove up the private inner road. ‘What did the pilgrim do, then?’
I smiled. ‘Whichever road either twin told him was safe, he went down the other one. Both twins would have pointed to the road leading to death.’
He thought very briefly. ‘How come?’
‘If the pilgrim asked the truthful twin which way his brother would send him to safety, the truthful twin, knowing his brother would lie, would point to the road to death.’
‘You’ve lost me.’
I explained over again. ‘And,’ I said, ‘if the pilgrim happened co ask the lying twin which way his brother would send someone to safety, the lying twin, though knowing his brother would speak the truth, lied about what he would say. So the lying twin also would point to the road to death.’
Dart relapsed into silence. When he spoke he said, ‘Do your boys understand it?’
‘Yes. They acted it out.’
‘Don’t they ever quarrel?’
‘Of course, they do. But they’ve been moved around so much that they’ve made few outside friendships. They rely on each other.’ I sighed. ‘They’ll grow out of it, shortly. Christopher’s already too old for half their games.’
‘A pity.’
‘Life goes on.’
Dart braked his rusty car gently to a halt in the impromptu car park outside Roger’s office.
I said diffidently, ‘Did you, in fact, drive here yesterday morning in this car, as Harold Quest said?’
‘No, I didn’t.’ Dart took no offence. ‘And what’s more, I was in my bathroom from eight to eight-thirty, and don’t bloody laugh, I’m not telling anyone else, but I’ve got a new scalp vibrator thing that’s supposed to stop hair falling out.’
‘Snake oil,’ I said.
‘Bugger you, I said don’t laugh.’
‘I’m not laughing.’
‘Your face muscles are twitching.’
‘I do believe, anyway,’ I said, ‘that because of your hair you didn’t arrive at the racecourse at eight-twenty yesterday morning with your old jalopy bulging with detonating cord and plastic explosive.’
‘Thanks a bunch.’
‘The thing is, could anyone have borrowed your car without you knowing? And would you mind very much if the bomb expert or the police tested this car for the presence of nitrates?’
He looked aghast. ‘You can’t mean it!’
‘Someone,’ I pointed out, ‘brought explosives to the stairs in the grandstands yesterday. It’s probably fair to say it was plugged into the walls after the night watchman went home at seven. It was fully light by then. There was no one else about because of its being Good Friday. There was only Harold Quest and his pals at the gate, and I don’t know how much one can trust him.’
‘The