Knock Down - By Dick Francis Page 0,60

that done?’

He blinked. Shifted uneasily on his chair. I shoved the cigarettes across and tried to look as if the whole question was quite impersonal.

‘Er…’ he said. ‘Vic said you were buying a horse for Mrs Sanders and he couldn’t have that, she was marrying Conslantine Brevett and he was Vic’s exclusive territory.’

‘When did he say that?’

‘At the sales the day you bought Hearse Puller.’

‘Had he already fixed up with Fred Smith?’

He hesitated. ‘He knew Fred Smith was going to take away whatever horse you bought. Yes.’

‘Did Vic himself fix it with Fred Smith?’

‘See, I don’t really know. Vic said he didn’t, but I don’t know, he’d say his grandmother was a pigmy if it suited him.’

‘Ronnie North,’ I said slowly. ‘Did he know Fred Smith?’

Fynedale’s face twisted into the sardonic sneer. ‘Old mates, weren’t they?’

‘Were they?’

‘Well…. Ronnie, he came from Stepney way, same as Fred Smith. Ronnie started in the horse coping business in the old days when they sold horses on market days in all the big towns. He started as a boy, helping his dad. Bloody lot of gypsies if you ask me. Up to every damn trick in the book, is Ronnie. But bright, see? Got brains, Ronnie has.’

‘Ronnie sold me the next horse I bought for Kerry Sanders.’

‘Ay. Him and Vic, laughing themselves sick about it, they were. Then Ronnie afterwards said you needed a bloody lesson, busting Fred Smith’s arm.’

‘Did you yourself ever meet Fred Smith?’

‘I saw him, like. Saw him at Ascot, with Ronnie. Ronnie pointed you out to him. We all did, see?’

‘I see.’

‘Then, well, with River God it was dead easy, wasn’t it? Ronnie found which transport firm you’d engaged and got them to tell him their instructions, and he just sent Fred Smith to pick you off on the lay-by.’

‘Ronnie sent him?’

‘Ronnie… or Vic’ He shrugged. ‘One of them.’

‘Not Vic’s unknown friend?’

‘Might have been, I suppose.’ He didn’t think it made much difference. ‘We weren’t going to steal River God, see? Fred Smith had the money for it. He was going to make you take it, like at Ascot.’

‘And River God was going back to Ronnie North?’

‘Ay.’

‘Then why did he agree to sell it to me in the first place?’

He said with exaggerated patience as if telling to a dim child, ‘See, he wasn’t going to, first off. Then he rings Vic and says you’re looking for another horse instead of Hearse Puller. Then Vic rings back and says sell you River God and it’ll be a good opportunity of bashing you up a bit mone.’

‘Did you actually hear either of these calls?’

‘Eh?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t live in Vic’s pocket, do I? No, Vic told me.’

I thought for a while. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘Which of you thought of burning my yard?’

He shifted his chair abruptly so that he… was no longer facing me, but spoke to the bare walls.

‘See… Vic said… a real smash, and you’d cave in. See… he saw you talking to that Transporter breeder… and that trainer whose owner he’d swiped… in the bar, see?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ay. Well then, Vic says this time no messing, you’ve got to be put right out of action, because this expert friend of his has thought up a fiddle to make the Transporter colt look like hayseeds, only he wouldn’t tell Vic what it was while you were still around at the sales. Vic said this expert was afraid you would make a public fuss which would mean everyone would be a lot more careful about buying horses in future and that was the last thing they wanted. So Vic said you either had to join in or be got rid of and you’d made it crystal clear you wouldn’t join in, so it was your own bloody fault you got your yard burned.’

I grunted: ‘And what happened afterwards?’

‘Well, there you bloody were at the sales as if nothing had happened. The whole thing had been a flop and Fred Smith was in jail and Vic was furious because he couldn’t start the new fiddle. He said he’d just have to go on with the kick-backs and anyway we’d been doing pretty well out of those for two years so it didn’t seem too bad.’

He swung round again, his face full of renewed anger.

‘And then you had to bugger the whole thing up by ratting to Wilton Young.’

‘Calm down,’ I said flatly. ‘Did you expect me to go on meekly taking whatever you cared to dish out?’

He looked indecisive.