Cut Throat

by Lyndon Stacey

  And where would anyone get that much blood? A slaughterhouse, perhaps?

  He wondered, also, if his encounter with the prowler the night before had provoked the attack. The person he had attempted to waylay then had certainly not been carrying anything that could have contained blood, so it hadn’t been a first attempt, foiled. Unless . . .

  What if there had been two prowlers?

  Guiltily, he remembered accusing the dog of stupidity in running the wrong way.

  What if he hadn’t? What if the man Ross had challenged had merely been a lookout?

  He gave up then, his thoughts leading nowhere.

  Maggie Scott was full of the morning’s events. As kind-hearted as they came, she nevertheless thrived on any kind of gossip and the more shocking the better.

  ‘What kind of sick mind can have dreamt up a thing like that?’ she asked of nobody in particular. ‘They ought to be locked away. Poor Mr Richmond, he’s so unlucky! Somebody must have it in for him. Still, it’s not as bad as last time, thank the Lord. God forbid that that should ever happen again! But why Mr Richmond’s horses, do you suppose? Do you think it’s just a coincidence?’

  Bill grunted something unintelligible through his eggs and bacon and shook his head. Sarah sniffed loudly, prompting Maggie to hurry to her side, and when Ross glanced up he noticed that Leo had a very thoughtful expression on his face.

  He became aware of the American’s scrutiny. ‘How are the bruises, Yank?’ he asked with a smile that was anything but concerned.

  ‘Oh, you’ll find I don’t bruise easily.’ Ross returned the smile. ‘But it’s kind of you to ask. By the way, the school wants raking, it’s very uneven. Perhaps you’d do that this morning?’

  He knew he shouldn’t antagonise the man, but seeing a sulky scowl replace Leo’s sly grin more than made up for any guilt he might have felt. Raking the school was an arduous and tedious job even on a cool day.

  Today was not going to be a cool day.

  Ross and the stable manager walked up to the house with the German Shepherd at their heels. The dog co-existed quite happily with the Colonel’s spaniels, each party affecting not to notice the other. As the two men approached the door, Bill looked at his watch.

  ‘It’s about ten, isn’t it?’ he asked Ross. ‘This old watch is slow and I’ve lost my other one.’

  ‘What, your gold one?’ the American exclaimed. ‘I thought that was on a chain.’

  ‘It was. Bloody thing broke,’ Bill said disgustedly. ‘Had it fifteen years, never looked like breaking. My first anniversary present, that was.’

  ‘That’s a shame! Well, you might find it yet, I suppose, though I never found mine. Yours is bigger, of course. Have you any idea where you might have lost it?’

  Bill shook his head. ‘Could be anywhere,’ he said hopelessly. ‘In one of the boxes. In the school . . . out in the fields, even.’

  ‘Maybe Leo will turn it up while he’s raking,’ Ross suggested with an optimism he didn’t feel. He secretly thought it more likely that the groom already knew where the watch was, but he could hardly say so.

  ‘Yeah, and maybe he won’t.’

  Bill sounded sour and Ross glanced at him speculatively as the door opened to his knock.

  The Colonel and Richmond were awaiting them in the Colonel’s study, as usual. Ross wondered idly if the rest of the house had been consigned to dust sheets. On every occasion he had visited he had found his boss in his study, no matter what the time of day.

  ‘Thank you, Masters. We’ll have coffee now,’ the Colonel said as Ross and Scott were shown in. The four men rearranged chairs and other articles of furniture until they could all be seated comfortably, and as Ross sank into the depths of a worn leather armchair, his dog padded round behind it and lay down with a deep sigh.

  ‘You’ve got a faithful companion there,’ Franklin observed.

  ‘Yeah, and if I’d taken a little more notice of Fido here this morning, I might have caught our joker red-handed. Literally!’ he added.

  Bill looked sharply at him, obviously considering this to be in poor taste.

  The American ignored him. He knew the older man disapproved of his informal manner with their employer. Bill’s own demeanour was deferential to the point of servility. No matter what he might feel, or even say at a later date, he never queried an order or suggestion made by the Colonel or one of the owners. Ross had a fair idea that this unquestioning obedience sometimes exasperated Preston greatly.

  ‘Franklin and I have been discussing this deplorable business,’ the Colonel began. ‘And we feel that in view of last year’s tragedy, and without knowing if there is any connection, we should take steps towards better security, at night at least.’ He paused, smoothing his moustache in a manner that Ross had come to recognise as a sign of thoughtfulness. ‘Having said that, and for the same reasons as last time, we have decided that intensive and complicated security measures are both undesirable and impractical. We cannot and would not wish to turn Oakley Manor into a sort of Fort Knox for horseflesh.’

  The others variously nodded or voiced their agreement.

  ‘After all,’ Richmond added, ‘it’s been nine months since Bellboy was killed. At the time, I hired men with dogs and walkie-talkies but they were here for months and all they did was dent my bank balance and keep the horses awake. How long was I supposed to continue? It may never have happened again.’

  Ross cleared his throat. He already knew what Richmond would say but it would seem odd not to question him. ‘It seems to me somebody went to a great deal of trouble last night, but for what? Just to scare the hell out of us? Surely there must be some deeper motive behind these attacks? This sort of thing doesn’t happen to the same person twice by accident. Is there something you’re not telling us?’

  ‘Ross, I don’t think . . .’ The Colonel sounded uncomfortable but Franklin Richmond put up his hand and shook his head.

  ‘No, John. It’s all right,’ he said gently. ‘I understand his suspicion. It’s only natural. After all, he hasn’t known me as long as you have. No, I’ve no idea why I’m being targeted. I only wish I did.’

  A light tap at the door heralded the return of Masters bearing a tray laden with coffeepot and cups. He was followed closely by Roland, immaculately attired in the kind of expensive country casuals that might grace the models in Country Life, and by Lindsay, in jeans and jodhpur boots as usual. She was laughing up at her cousin in response to something he had said, and Ross’ spirits lifted instantly.

  ‘Oh, I say!’ Roland exclaimed. ‘Are we interrupting something?’ And he advanced unhesitatingly into the room in a manner that suggested he had no intention of letting the possibility deter him. He greeted Franklin with easy familiarity and nodded to Ross and Bill.

  ‘Franklin, I’m so sorry about Clown,’ Lindsay said with ready sympathy. ‘What a horrible thing to have happened! Horses absolutely hate the smell of blood, don’t they? I can’t imagine who could do such a thing.’

  Coffee was served and conversation became general.

  Roland, Ross discovered, had a positive genius for making sudden and complete changes of direction in his conversation, quite often in response to some remark which he appeared to have misheard. At one point, when Ross and the Colonel were discussing the way horses sleep on their feet and Ross was saying that he had never yet seen Flowergirl lying down, Roland broke in, quite uninvited, with a little-known fact concerning sheep.

  Ross watched him carefully, but try as he might could not decide whether the Colonel’s son was really as flakey as he appeared or whether he was privately amusing himself at their expense. If he was trying to annoy his father he was certainly doing a good job of it. The Colonel had very little patience with his recently returned offspring.

  ‘I hear you had a spot of bad luck with Woodsmoke last night,’ he remarked to Ross.

  ‘Er . . . yes,’ he agreed. ‘The girth snapped. One of those things, I guess.’

  Bill bristle
d. ‘It should never have happened. I’d swear that stitching was sound.’

  Franklin sent Ross a searching look from across the room, but the Colonel appeared unconcerned. ‘As Ross said, these things do happen. It’s not necessarily anyone’s fault.’

  ‘Dangerous sport, showjumping,’ Roland observed, apparently to his coffee cup. ‘Don’t fancy it, myself.’

  ‘You wouldn’t fancy anything that might soil your hands or spoil the look of your favourite suit,’ the Colonel said with undisguised contempt.

  His son appeared to consider this. ‘No, I shouldn’t think I would,’ he agreed, finally. ‘I’ll leave that sort of thing to our all-American action boy.’ He observed Ross from under his brows with a fleeting glint of amusement in his grey eyes.

  ‘Roland! Don’t be wicked!’ Lindsay exclaimed, laughing. Then, to Ross, ‘Don’t let him fool you. You are looking at the hardest rider to hounds Wiltshire has ever seen. Roland was tipped to become Master a few years ago.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ Ross enquired.

  ‘I saw sense,’ Roland told him.

  ‘He went to Sandhurst,’ Lindsay informed him.

  ‘Sandhurst?’ Ross was lost.

  ‘Army officer training,’ the Colonel supplied. ‘Like West Point. They were wasting their time, though.’

  ‘You didn’t stay?’

  Roland made a face. ‘Up at dawn, square-bashing, assault courses, mud, bossy sergeant-majors . . . and guns! I never could get used to those guns.’ He shuddered dramatically.

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ Lindsay said, exasperated. ‘He was in the army for eight years, Ross. He was very good at it.’

  The Colonel stood up, heading for his desk. ‘He threw away a promising career,’ he grunted. ‘Works in a bloody china shop now.’

  ‘Antiques,’ Roland said, mildly. ‘Import and export.’

  ‘Whatever,’ his father said dismissively. ‘Look, I didn’t ask Ross and Franklin here to discuss your failings. We have business to get on with.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Roland said obligingly, making no move to leave.

  The Colonel made a visible effort to keep his temper, turning his back on his son and handing a sheaf of colourful brochures to Ross and Bill. ‘Have a look at those.’

  ‘We’ve decided the time has come to think about getting a bigger horsebox,’ Franklin explained from his chair. ‘I’ve marked the two I favour. See what you think.’

  After the merits of the various vehicles had been discussed at length, the meeting broke up with Lindsay saying she wanted to take Gypsy out for exercise before lunch because she had to meet James at the station that afternoon. In the event, Sarah and Leo accompanied her on her ride and Bill went to the saddler’s with Woody’s saddle and a number of other items that needed repairing.

  Ross took advantage of the period of quiet this afforded to school Ginger again. She was due to jump at a fairly important show at the weekend and he knew that she needed at least one intensive session before then. He’d ridden the mare out the previous day, returning to the site of her previous panic attack, but she hadn’t put a foot wrong. He was finding her increasingly difficult to understand.

  On this occasion as he worked her in the newly raked school she was willing, if not exactly eager. Her flatwork was supple and obedient and she jumped with good style. Still Ross was not happy with her. She felt to him like an automaton, characterless and uninspiring.

  Towards the end of the hour he had allotted the mare he noticed Franklin Richmond leaning on the gate and rode over. As was his habit, he untacked the steaming mare and let her cool off and roll in the sand if she chose.

  ‘That mare’s coming on nicely,’ Richmond said, by way of greeting.

  ‘Mmm.’ The doubt sounded in Ross’ voice.

  ‘You don’t think so?’

  He shrugged, non-committally. ‘She’s a touch unpredictable.’

  ‘So is life,’ the businessman observed.

  ‘True.’ Ross squinted at him against the bright sunlight. ‘What did you make of this morning’s demonstration?’

  ‘He goes to a lot of trouble, doesn’t he? I’m awaiting the message that will undoubtedly follow.’

  ‘More money?’ Ross suggested.

  ‘I suppose so,’ Richmond said. ‘But somehow I don’t think that’s the reason for all this. As I said before, it’s as though he’s playing with us and I think he felt the game was becoming a little too tame.’

  Ross frowned. ‘A dangerous sort of game.’

  ‘Some people thrive on danger. It becomes an addiction. In your own way, you obviously do.’

  ‘That’s not the same,’ Ross protested. ‘I don’t do it just for kicks.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  Ross found he couldn’t answer. After all, why did he ride? For the elusive glory? For the money? Hardly! He rode because it was a continual challenge. Because it was difficult and testing, and because of the incredible high he felt when it all came right. Sure he did it for kicks.

  He and Richmond watched Ginger flirting and squealing with the horses in the field beyond the school.

  ‘I shan’t pay him any more, you know,’ Franklin said suddenly. ‘I’ve had enough. If he wants a confrontation he’ll have it sooner or later, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to give him even more money in the meantime. I’m having the yard watched again, secretly. Nobody else will be told. McKinnon will arrange it.’

  ‘Do you think that’ll work?’

  ‘I don’t know. I hope so. I’ve got to do something. McKinnon is convinced we must make a stand if we’re going to bring this bastard out into the open. I’m prepared to trust his judgement. It’s what I pay him for, after all.’ He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at Ross. ‘You attacked me very convincingly this morning.’

  Ross grinned. ‘Thought I’d better act in character. The Colonel would have expected it.’ He paused. ‘What do you know about Roland?’

  Franklin laughed. ‘Got your detective’s hat on again? No, seriously, I’ve known Roland as long as I’ve known John. Not intimately, I admit, he hasn’t spent much time here lately, but he went to school with my nephew Darcy. His relationship with his father is somewhat strained, but he’s harmless. I’d describe him as a determined eccentric.’

  Ross nodded. ‘Lindsay seems very fond of him, anyway, and she’s usually a fairly good judge of character.’

  ‘Though you say it yourself,’ Richmond observed, amused.

  Ross grinned and shook his head. ‘Hell, no. That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘I know,’ Richmond acknowledged, smiling. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Work to do. Look out for yourself, okay?’

  ‘Sure,’ Ross said, liking the big, easy-going businessman more with each encounter. ‘You too.’

  The riders returned as Ross finished hosing Ginger down and led her to her stable. Sarah looked unhappy and Lindsay harassed. Leo was whistling cheerfully.

  ‘Trouble?’ Ross enquired, following Lindsay into Gypsy’s box.

  She sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. No, not really. It’s just that Leo will keep teasing Sarah and she can’t defend herself. She’s like a mouse. Honestly, I don’t know how you stay sane working with those two. Leo’s so insolent to you. I’ve heard some of the things he says and I wonder you don’t clobber him.’

  ‘I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.’

  ‘Yes, but think of the satisfaction it would give you!’ Lindsay countered, laughing.

  ‘There is that,’ he agreed. ‘I guess I’d better have a word with him. We don’t want to lose Sarah, do we?’

  Lindsay departed soon afterwards, saying that she didn’t expect to have time to exercise Gypsy the next day, Friday, but that she had begged a space in the horsebox for the second day of the Gloucester show on Sunday.

  Ross watched her go with regret, supposing that with her boyfriend on the scene she would be a less frequent visitor to Oakley Manor. She had already confided that her mother wasn’t
happy with the amount of time she had been spending with the horses.

  8

  The show at Gloucester ran over the weekend. Although stabling was provided for competitors who were travelling a long way, Ross and Bill had decided to travel up on both days so that they could enter the maximum number of horses and, at the same time, cut down on stabling fees.

  The Oakley Manor contingent set out in thick fog at six-thirty in the morning. The journey was about eighty miles and, what with the fog and an unscheduled stop just before Swindon, they needed every minute of the time they had estimated it would take.

  The hold-up was due to Fly getting an attack of claustrophobia in the crowded lorry, and Ross asked Danny if he’d mind travelling with the horses to keep an eye on them. Although he would far rather have had the boy’s company in the cab, Danny had a quiet, sympathetic way with the horses and, additionally, could be absolutely relied upon not to doctor the equipment.

  Once on the showground, Leo and Danny unloaded the four horses and let them stretch their legs and graze while Ross went in search of the secretary’s tent and a timetable. He saw several familiar faces on his way, including Danielle, who greeted him with obvious pleasure, and Stephen Douglas, who didn’t.

  The last of the fog was thinning fast now, beaten back by the growing strength of the sun. As Ross strolled back to the lorry he felt that overall, life was pretty good.

  The day started well, improved steadily and ended with triumph.

  Franklin Richmond arrived at ten o’clock with Peter and a fair-haired, smartly dressed young man of about Ross’ age whom he introduced as his nephew, Darcy. They were just in time to see Barfly jump to an unexpected fourth place in Ross’ first class of the day. Ross was as surprised as anyone and could only surmise that the flighty creature had fretted his fidgets away on the journey up and was now prepared to concentrate.