High stakes - By Dick Francis Page 0,10

horse is favourite again and I have five hundred on. He wins all right, and although I have not this time won back all I lost, well, it’s the second time the horse has brought home a decent prize, and taking all in all I am not out of pocket and I have had a great deal of pleasure and excitement. And I am well content.’

‘And so it goes on?’

‘And so, indeed, it goes on. I find I get more and more delight from watching horses. I get particular delight if the horses are my own, and although in time of course my hobby costs me a good deal of money, because owners on the whole don’t make a profit, I am totally happy and consider it well spent.’

‘And then what happens?’

‘Nothing really,’ I said. ‘I just begin to get these niggling suspicions and I thrust them out of my head and think how horribly disloyal I am being to you, after all the winners you have trained for me. But the suspicions won’t lie down. I’ve noticed, you see, that when I have my biggest bets, my horses don’t win.’

‘A lot of owners could say the same,’ Charlie said.

‘Oh sure. But I tot up all the big bets which didn’t come up, and they come to nearly forty thousand pounds.’

‘Good God.’

‘I am really ashamed of myself, but I begin to wonder. I say to myself, suppose… just suppose… that every time I stake anything over a thousand, my trainer and my bookmaker conspire together and simply keep the money and make sure my horse doesn’t win. Just suppose… that if I stake three thousand, they split it fifty fifty, and the horse runs badly, or is left, or the buckle on the girth breaks. Just suppose that next time out my horse is trained to the utmost and the race is carefully chosen and he duly wins, and I am delighted… just suppose that this time my bookmaker and my trainer are betting on the horse themselves… with the money they stole from me last time.’

Charlie looked riveted.

‘If my horse wins, they win. If my horse loses, they haven’t lost their own money, but only mine.’

‘Neat.’

‘Yes. So the weeks pass and now the Flat season is finished, and we are back again with the jumpers. And you, my trainer, have found and bought for me a beautiful young hurdler, a really top class horse. I back him a little in his first race and he wins it easily. I am thrilled. I am also worried, because you tell me there is a race absolutely made for him at Sandown Park which he is certain to win, and you encourage me to have a very big bet on him. I am by now filled with horrid doubts and fears, and as I particularly admire this horse I do not want his heart broken by trying to win when he isn’t allowed to… which I am sure happened to one or two of the others… so I say I will not back him.’

‘Unpopular?’

‘Very. You press me harder than ever before to lay out a large stake. I refuse. You are obviously annoyed and warn me that the horse will win and I will be sorry. I say I’ll wait till next time. You say I am making a big mistake.’

‘When do I say all this?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘And today?’ Charlie asked.

‘Today I am suffering from suspicion worse than ever. Today I think that maybe you will let the horse win if he can, just to prove I was wrong not to back him, so that next time you will have no difficulty at all in persuading me to have a bigger bet than ever.’

‘Tut tut.’

‘Yes. So today I don’t tell you that a little while ago… because of my awful doubts… I opened a credit account with the Tote, and today I also don’t tell you that I have backed my horse for a thousand pounds on my credit account.’

‘Deceitful of you.’

‘Certainly.’

‘And your horse wins,’ Charlie said, nodding.

‘He looked superb…’ I smiled wryly. ‘You tell me after the race that it is my own fault I didn’t back him. You say you did try to get me to. You say I’d do better to take your advice next time.’

‘And then?’

‘Then,’ I sighed, ‘all the weeks of suspicion just jelled into certainty. I knew he’d been cheating me in other ways too. Little ways. Little betrayals of friendship. Nothing enormous. I told him there wasn’t