‘Fido as a victim – impossible!’
‘The inspector thinks otherwise,’ said Leeming. ‘Since there’s bad blood between you and Mr Fido, he wonders if someone is trying to heat it up even more. A third party might have set out to stoke up the mutual antagonism in order to have you snarling insults at each other. That would distract the pair of you from the important job of preparing your horses for the Derby.’
Dowd was adamant. ‘The man you want is Hamilton Fido,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Over the last couple of years, my horses have consistently beaten his. He’s not the kind of man to take that lying down. He had to hit back and he used John Feeny to do it. There’s something you ought to know, Sergeant,’ he continued. ‘The reason that Limerick Lad will win the Derby is not simply because he’s the finest horse in the field. He has the best jockey on his back – Tim Maguire. I’ve lost count of the number of times that Mr Fido has tried to poach Tim so that he’ll ride in his colours.’
‘There’s nothing illegal in that, sir. Every owner would like to have the best jockey riding for him.’
‘Only one would offer a huge bribe to make sure that my colt lost the race. That’s what was dangled in front of Tim Maguire – five hundred pounds to pull Limerick Lad out of the reckoning.’
‘Five hundred!’ Leeming whistled in amazement. ‘Do you know who made the offer?’
‘Hamilton Fido.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘The letter was unsigned,’ said Dowd, reaching inside his coat, ‘but I’m sure it had Mr Fido’s name on it in invisible ink. Since he couldn’t have Tim in the saddle on Merry Legs, he wanted to make use of him another way.’
‘That’s a very serious allegation, Mr Dowd.’
‘Read the letter for yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ said Leeming, taking it from him and unfolding the paper. The letter was short but explicit. He read it in seconds. ‘This is evidence, sir – may I keep it?’
‘Please do, Sergeant.’
‘I take it that Maguire was not tempted.’
‘Tim rides for me and nobody else,’ boasted Dowd. ‘When he sent that letter, there was something about my jockey that Hamilton Fido obviously didn’t know.’
‘And what was that, sir?’
‘He has the same problem as John Feeny.’
‘Problem?’
‘He’s illiterate. You don’t need to be able to read in order to ride a horse. All you have to do is to recognise a winning post when you see one. The joke is on Mr Fido,’ said Dowd with a grim chuckle. ‘When he received that letter, Tim Maguire didn’t have a clue that he was being offered a bribe.’
When he saw Hamilton Fido for the second time that day, Robert Colbeck was not given as cordial a welcome. The bookmaker was at his stables, talking to his trainer, Alfred Stenton, a bear-like man in his forties with a grizzled beard and tiny deep-set eyes. They looked up as the detective approached them across the yard. Stenton showed curiosity but Fido’s face registered annoyance until he concealed it behind his practised smile.
‘We meet again, Inspector,’ he said.
‘I remembered your saying that you’d be coming here this afternoon,’ said Colbeck. ‘Have you established yet how John Feeny got a job here when he’d been in the employ of your fiercest rival?’
‘Alfred explained that to me.’
He introduced the trainer and Stenton took over. He had a deep voice, a slow delivery and a bluff manner. Hands on hips, he stood with his legs planted wide apart.
‘Don’t blame me,’ he said stoutly. ‘I’d no idea that the lad had worked for Brian Dowd. He told me he came from Cork where he’d been a groom for three years. One of my boys had a nasty accident so I needed a replacement. John Feeny came along at the right time.’
Colbeck wanted to hear more. ‘A nasty accident?’
‘He was kicked by a horse, Inspector – broke his leg.’
‘Was there anything suspicious about it?’
The trainer shook his head. ‘If you want to know the truth, the lad deserved what he got. He’d been drinking heavily and he knew I didn’t allow beer at the stables. You need a clear head when you’re dealing with racehorses,’ said Stenton. ‘They can be a real handful if you get on the wrong side of them. He was grooming Bold Buccaneer and slapped him on the rump. That was asking for trouble.’
‘How did John Feeny know there was a vacancy here?’
‘A friend recommended him.’
‘Someone from the stables?’ said Colbeck.
‘Yes, Inspector,’ replied Stenton. ‘Ned Kyle, one of my jockeys, spoke up for him. They grew up together in Cork.’
‘Why didn’t Kyle warn you?’ asked Fido angrily. ‘He must have known about Feeny’s link with Dowd.’
‘He swears that he didn’t,’ said the trainer, ‘and I took him at his word. Ned is as honest as the day is long. He’d not deceive me. In any case, he and John Feeny hadn’t seen each other for years. How could Ned possibly know where he’d been working?’
‘Feeny was unlikely to tell him,’ observed Colbeck. ‘He knew he’d never get a job here if Brian Dowd’s name was mentioned.’
Stenton snorted. ‘I’d have thrown him out on his ear.’
‘He winkled his way in here to spy,’ said Fido.
‘It doesn’t look that way,’ said Colbeck. ‘It seems that he only got the job by default. If another groom hadn’t been kicked by a horse, John Feeny would still be looking for work.’
‘That’s my view as well,’ said Stenton.
‘On the other hand, someone knew about Feeny’s past.’
‘What do you mean, Inspector?’
‘A couple of letters were sent to Jerry Doyle, a lad at Mr Dowd’s stables. Since Feeny couldn’t write, he must have got a friend to pen the letters for him.’
‘Someone from here,’ said Fido vengefully. ‘Ned Kyle, perhaps.’
‘He’d never do such a thing,’ argued Stenton.
‘Maybe we have another spy in the camp.’
‘I’d like a word with Kyle, if I may,’ said Colbeck.
‘I’ll see if I can find him for you, Inspector,’ said Stenton, moving off. ‘But I’ll tell you right now – Ned is as clean as a whistle.’
The trainer walked away and left the two men alone.
‘It looks as if someone let you down, Mr Fido,’ began Colbeck. ‘When I arrived here, you were patently surprised to see me. Nobody warned you of my visit this time.’
‘After this morning’s meeting,’ said Fido, ‘I didn’t think that we had anything more to say to each other.’
‘There have been developments, sir.’
‘Oh?’
‘Your informant at Scotland Yard is obviously unaware of them so I felt it my duty to pass on the information myself. Lord Hendry reported an incident related to the Derby.’
‘In what way?’
‘Someone did his best to cause Odysseus serious injury.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Fido blandly.
‘Luckily, the attempt was thwarted.’
‘Why are you telling me, Inspector? You surely can’t believe that I’m in any way culpable.’
‘I make no assumptions, sir.’
‘Lord Hendry pointed the finger at me – is that it?’
‘Your name was mentioned to the superintendent.’
‘I’m astounded that he didn’t have posters printed with a picture of me as the wanted man,’ said Fido with a laugh. ‘Every time there’s a crime or a misdemeanour on a racecourse, Lord Hendry accuses me.’
‘Brian Dowd was also named as a suspect.’
‘Then he’s nearer the mark there.’
‘There doesn’t appear to be any mutual respect in the world of horseracing,’ said Colbeck with disapproval. ‘Does the concept of friendly rivalry mean nothing to you?’