“We don’t want to miss out on the fun,” Zou Zou said. “Of course we’re not staying put. Come on, Georgie.” And she set off bravely slithering through the mud. I followed. There was plenty of activity in this stable area. Horse boxes were arriving and their passengers led carefully down ramps to waiting stalls. Other horses were standing outside, while stable hands brushed them or attended to their hooves. Nobody stopped us or even asked us what we wanted as we walked down the lines of stalls. Perhaps they were used to owners paying a surprise visit. We were almost at the end when Darcy exclaimed, “There he is. That’s Harry.” And he hurried forward as an old man came out of the end stall, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He was small and wiry and I wondered if he had started life as a jockey. He was scowling, but his face broke into a grin as he saw Darcy and took the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it down into the mud.

“Well, well. This is a surprise. What are you doing here, Mr. Darcy?”

“Come to see you, Harry.” Darcy shook the man’s hand. “I’m glad to see you’re working.”

“No thanks to that devil Roach,” he said. “Dismissed me just like that, for no reason at all. Me, who had given the best years of my life to that stable. And in my place I hear he’s brought in a nobody with no experience at all. A flat racing man. Never trained for the jumps.”

Darcy nodded with understanding. Harry pushed his cap back on his head.

“Look, I’m awfully sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man. Knew his horses. Treated them like his children.”

“Better than his children,” Darcy said and they laughed.

“That may be true. I won’t say he was always an easy man but he was fair, and he knew his stuff. And I can’t say I blame him for killing that man. Such rudeness and ignorance. You’ve never seen the likes of it.”

“That’s what I heard,” Darcy said. “Apparently his loves were horses and books but this new man, Ted Benson, told me he actually knew precious little about horses.”

“Didn’t know a thing,” Harry said, “except how to bet on them.” He moved closer to Darcy, looking around before he spoke. “It’s my belief that’s why he was so angry when Gladiator died. Not that he’d lost his best horse, but that he’d bet heavily on it and he lost a lot of money.”

“He bet on the horse?”

Harry nodded. “Oh, he didn’t put the money on himself but he got someone to do it for him. At least that’s what I heard from a bookmaker pal of mine.”